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Chapter 1 - Marked by Boris.

The train carriage was filled with the noise of chaos. Fifteen girls were cramped together in a small space. Their clothes were torn and dirty, and their faces showed clear signs of exhaustion and fear. At the door stood a man whose voice was harsh and filled with anger. He shouted, "Get in! Don't push!"

Amidst this, as the moving train jolted, one girl suddenly stepped forward and collided with a sharp metal edge inside the carriage. Her hand got injured on the sharp point, and blood began to flow. She cried out in pain, blood slowly streaming down.

But due to weakness, she couldn't get back up. She looked terribly frail and hadn't been properly fed for days. Despite her cries and efforts, she was too weak to stand."Get up! Get up! There's no place here for worthless girls like you!"

the man growled angrily and raised a whip, striking her back three or four times. Blood splattered across the girl's pained face. The other girls began to tremble in fear, their eyes slowly filling with tears at the sight of the blood."Hurry up! Stop crying and whining! Finish the work,"

the man threatened.Just as the cruel man was about to strike the injured girl with the whip, suddenly an eighteen-year-old girl jumped in between. Her name was Elira. Though her eyes showed fear, she masked it and spoke bravely, "Stop!"Seeing Elira step in between, the man's anger rose even more. He said, "What right do you have to stand in my way? Get out!"

At that very moment, another man stepped forward. A long, strong finger reached out and gripped the whip tightly. This man was different from the rest. His face was handsome—with soft lines, shining eyes, and a faint smile.Everyone present froze and grew fearful when they saw him. This was Boris.Boris's network was vast and complex. He wasn't limited to just one city or country; his trafficking operation spanned multiple nations.

He transported girls from place to place—selling them in grand palaces, private estates of the wealthy elite, and even illegal markets. His business crossed continents, where he forced these girls into various roles—some as servants, some as entertainment for the rich, and others into dark underground chains.

To Boris, these girls were mere commodities, priced according to demand and region.His main markets were large cities in Europe, wealthy Middle Eastern states, and the mysterious regions of South Asia—where his reach and influence were most powerful.

Under Boris's plan, these girls were often sent by deceit, temptation, or force to hidden locations, silencing their voices and cutting off their escape routes.Gripping the whip firmly, Boris looked directly at Elira—his gaze lingering carefully from head to toe for the first time.Elira's eyes were a deep golden hue—her beauty rare to find in this world. Long lashes cast shadows over her cheeks.

She was tired, weak, yet there was a unique glow about her—a light impossible to look away from.Boris froze completely. His face hardened as he simply stared at Elira. His silence grew so uncomfortable that even the men around him shifted uneasily.Slowly, Boris stepped closer to Elira—so close that the warmth of his breath cut sharply through the cold air.He raised his long, strong finger—and pressing gently on her lips, said, "Be careful… this world isn't safe for you."

His voice was low, yet it held an eerie threat. He was both warning her and showcasing his power.Elira looked into Boris's eyes and felt, for the first time, the coldness that dwelled within. This man was no good. His gaze carried darkness.Then, Boris withdrew his finger from her lips—but the touch seemed to linger, floating in the air.He smiled—a slow, dangerous smile. Then he said, "Move. Don't waste time."

The girls began to move again. Some wept silently, some glanced at Elira. The carriage was engulfed in darkness. The cold iron floor crept up to their feet.The train's floor was hard and rough. Fear hung heavy in the air.Elira entered deeper inside the carriage, with the other fourteen girls squeezing in behind her.Outside, Boris stood watching. His eyes sharp and unwavering, as though he'd seen the Elira for the very first time—and knew she wasn't someone to overlook.

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