My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna) novel Chapter 887

Her martial arts experience was apparent as she easily threw me to the ground with a few moves. She kicked me in the ribs with no mercy in sight.

As her patience wore thin, she stopped wasting time talking to me. She took my fingers and the pen, then forcibly signed my name on the document. She then grabbed my fingers and pressed them onto the wound on my forehead.

After a moment, my blood- stained finger was pressed on top of my signature on the document. She had done everything so smoothly, as if it were routine done a hundred times before.

The door closed behind her with a 'bang.¹

I laid on the ground, my body still shaking as the pain began to spread through every part of my body.

I couldn't imagine the mess I'd gotten into.

I laid on the ground, motionless.

Three days later, I was dragged into a car by two women. My eyes were blindfolded. The time I spent in that car felt like it stretched on for hours.

By the time the gauze strapped around my head was removed, I had alread been locked up in an unfamiliar, filthy place.

It was an old, wooden house with asbestos tiles that formed a triangular shape on its roof.

I heard a woman cry out. I pulled myself together and looked carefully around at my surroundings.

At the moment, I was lying on dirty straw, my hands and feet tied up. Needless to say, after days of use, my clothes were in torrid condition.

Several women were sitting next to me, shivering and crying quietly.

"Dry your tears. Let's find a way out first!" Someone said. I spared the speaker a look and found myself looking at a woman in her early twenties. Though her clothes were filthy, her features were sprightly. I could tell at a glance that she was from a rich family.

If they didn't do such an unspeakable thing for money, what was their purpose then?

Watching as I grew silent, the sprightly woman said, "Let's stop talking about it. Come closer and let's think of a way to untie our ropes."

With that said, some of the girls gathered together and began to make attempts at untying the ropes with their backs facing each other.

"It's impossible to get it loose. It's tied too well!" Some of the women started to complain, and some began to cry. They were too anxious to continue trying.

It was clear that these girls were from well-off families. How did they end up here?

As I mulled it over, I couldn't help but ask, "How were you all brought here?"