In a warehouse basement, the fighter girl with dark hair waited for the guards to move to a far corner, distracted by their chat. Then, with her hands cuffed, she carefully worked at the edge of her blindfold.

It took ten long minutes of slow, painful movements. The metal cuffs dug into her wrists, and the chains rattled a bit with each motion. But eventually, she loosened it just enough to see.

She blinked in the dim light, letting her eyes adjust before checking out her surroundings.

There were fifteen girls in total, including her. All were chained and blindfolded except for her. Most of them were crying, while some were just in shock.

Two guards stood at the door, both armed. One was busy with his phone while the other smoked a cigarette he wasn’t supposed to be smoking down there. The heavy metal door had three visible locks from her angle, but there were probably more on the other side. No windows, concrete walls, just one way out.

The girl’s mind raced, taking in everything her boss had told her to observe: escape routes, guard routines, and any weak spots in security.

She wasn’t there for her own escape; she was there to help the others get out.

Her boss had made it very clear: "Watch everything. Learn the patterns. When the time comes, you’ll know what to do. Help them escape. All of them."

She memorized the layout, counted how often the guards checked in, and noted which chains looked like they could give way. She figured out which girls were still alert enough to move fast when the moment arrived.

Three days.

The auction was happening in three days.

So, she had three days to get these girls ready for what was coming, three days to make sure that when her boss gave the signal, they would all be set to go.

Carefully, she worked the blindfold back into place. The guards couldn’t find out that she could see. Not yet.

She leaned back against the cold wall, the chains clinking softly, and waited, planning, watching, getting ready.

Because in three days, everything was going to change. And she was determined to ensure that every single one of these girls made it out alive.

*****

Morning sunlight poured into the mansion as Azalea’s phone buzzed on her nightstand.

Still a bit groggy, she grabbed it and opened the encrypted message.

Her eyes went wide as she read.

The message was short, coded, but clear enough for Azalea to get it.

"Cargo is secured. 15 total. Warehouse basement, Pier 12. Auction in 3 days. Boss checked it out last night. Ready for the next step."

Azalea didn’t respond. That was how they did things: her contact would send info, and Azalea would just take it, no replies, no trace.

She shot up, adrenaline kicking in and shaking off the sleep.

Fifteen girls. Three days until the auction.

They needed to move fast.

Azalea jumped in the shower and got dressed in record time, then headed downstairs to the dining room.

*****

Everyone was already at the table when she walked in.

Zayden was at the head of the table, Aylin to his right, and an empty chair waiting for Azalea on his left. Liam was next to Aylin, Leo across from him, and Reyes at the end.

Ayla was already gone for her grad classes. Charles and William were at the tower handling other stuff.

"Morning," Azalea said, sliding into her seat.

The replies came back — "Morning." "Hey." "Good morning."

Breakfast was all set, eggs, toast, fruit, and coffee. Mr. Moore really outdid himself this time.

They ate in silence for a bit, the kind of chill vibe that came from people who’ve been through a lot together and didn’t need to chat endlessly.

Then Leo put his fork down.

"We should talk about Selina," he said.

Everyone looked up.

Leo kept going, his tone steady but tense. "We need to wrap this up soon. Get her out. She’s been undercover way too long. The longer she stays, the more risky it gets."

Azalea had just taken a sip of orange juice and choked on it.

"What?" she coughed.

Zayden looked over at Leo and then at Azalea. "So, Selina’s been working with us. She’s been in it for a while now. She checked out mentally from Alpha and Maksim months back. Physically, she’s still there, acting like a double agent."

Azalea stared at him in disbelief. "Wait. Are you saying Selina, the Alpha’s personal assistant, the one who’s been by his side for years, is actually on our side?"

"Yep," Zayden confirmed.

"And you really think she’s innocent?" Azalea’s voice was rising.

"We’re not saying she’s innocent," Liam jumped in carefully. "We’re just saying she’s helping us now."

Azalea let out a bitter laugh. "Helping us? Do you have any idea what she did? What was she involved in?"

Leo’s jaw tightened. "She was manipulated—"

"Manipulated?" Azalea’s voice sharpened. "She wasn’t a kid, Leo. She knew exactly what trafficking meant and what selling girls was all about. She trained them. She got them ready for auction. She—" Azalea stopped, her voice trembling with anger. "She ripped their clothes off in front of the guards. She let men touch them. She ruined lives."

Leo’s breathing turned uneven, but he didn’t interrupt.

The table went quiet.

Azalea slammed her fork down on her plate with a loud bang. "So don’t sit there and act like she’s innocent just because she switched sides. Just because she’s on the right path now doesn’t wipe out what she did. She’s guilty. And she’ll pay for it."

Aylin had gone completely still.

Azalea noticed and turned to her. "Aylin?"

Aylin had her head down, and her shoulders were shaking a bit.

"Aylin," Azalea said gently this time, standing and moving closer to her. "What’s wrong?"

A tear dropped onto the table.

Then another.

Zayden shot up from his chair, kneeling beside Aylin, his hands on her arms. "Hey, what happened? Talk to me."

Aylin shook her head, trying to pull herself together but not managing it.

Azalea squeezed her hand. "It’s okay. Let it out."

For a long minute, Aylin just cried, silent, shaky sobs that she clearly held in for way too long.

Finally, she managed to say something. "The video."

Zayden tensed up. "What video are you talking about?"