**Chapter 1: The Bargain**
The sun was setting over the dusty village, casting long shadows over the cracked earth. Amina sat under the baobab tree, her notebook open but untouched. Her thoughts were far from her studies. She was thinking about Kofi—his laugh, his promises, and the dreams they had built together.
Kofi was the boy she loved, the boy who had waited patiently while she pursued her education in the city. They had a pact: her virginity, her heart, her future—they all belonged to him. She had promised.
But everything changed when her father came home that evening, his face worn with desperation.
"Amina," he said, his voice heavy, "I have made a decision. It is for the good of the family."
Her heart sank as he explained. A wealthy businessman, Mr. Obinna, had offered a bride price that could lift her family out of poverty. It was an offer her father couldn't refuse.
Amina's world crumbled. "You sold me?" she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
Her father looked away, shame etched into his features. "You will live a good life. He is a powerful man. He will take care of you."
The next morning, a black SUV arrived at their modest home. Amina, clutching a small suitcase, was ushered into the car without ceremony. Her mother wept quietly as her father avoided her gaze.
The ride to Mr. Obinna's mansion was silent. Amina stared out the window, her mind racing. She thought of Kofi, of the life they had dreamed of, and of the promise she had made.
When they arrived, the gates to Obinna's estate loomed tall, the mansion beyond them gleaming with wealth. Amina was led inside, where Obinna waited. He was older, his presence commanding, his eyes cold as they assessed her.
"You'll learn your place here," he said bluntly. "You belong to me now."
Amina's stomach churned, but she held her head high. She refused to show weakness, even as fear gripped her.
That night, she sat alone in the lavish bedroom Obinna had assigned her. She stared at her phone, her fingers hovering over Kofi's number. She wanted to call him, to tell him everything, but what could she say?
Tears blurred her vision as she typed a message instead:
*"Kofi, I'm sorry. My father… he sold me. I don't know what to do. Please don't hate me."*
She pressed send and clutched the phone to her chest, waiting for a reply that didn't come.
Across the mansion, Obinna poured himself a glass of whiskey, his eyes fixed on the door to Amina's room. He was a man used to getting what he wanted, and he wasn't known for his patience.