29. The Offer
The next day Melissa was brought to the visitation room again. As the previous day she was made to kneel where the ring was set in the ground and her leash was locked to it, preventing her from rising up. Then, the officer padlocked her handcuffs to her ankle chain and left.
Melissa waited alone in silence. A few minutes later she heard footsteps coming closer. The door opened and she saw Markus enter.
“Hey, Mel, how are you doing?” Markus asked.
“I’m being held here Markus. The bank has repossessed me and there is a real risk that I will be sold as an actual slave. Can you believe that? I could be an actual slave!” she said, louder than she had planned. She tugged at her handcuffs, “I couldn’t be worse, Markus. And how is your life in the free world?”
Markus pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen with a thoughtful look. "I’ve checked your file, Mel. There's new information in there. What's this about me?"
Melissa's eyes widened with panic, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper. "Please, Markus, don't read that. They... they got that information from me under duress. It wasn't willingly given."
“Duress? In the file it says it is from an interview with you. I thought they just asked you some questions.”
—
Melissa took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to explain. "Markus, that interview... it wasn't just questions. They... they used methods to make me talk. I didn't have a choice."
Markus's expression shifted from curiosity to concern, his brows furrowing as he processed what she was implying. "What kind of methods, Mel?"
She hesitated, the memory of the ordeal fresh and painful. "They threatened me, Markus. With... with pain if I didn't cooperate. They wanted to know everything, including about us. I couldn't just refuse."
Markus's expression shifted to one of understanding mixed with a hint of sympathy. "No wonder you told them personal things like that," he said, his voice softening as he put his phone away. "I was just surprised because you told me we weren't compatible, that you rejected me for that reason. But in your interview, you said you thought I was a good match, just not at the right time. Why the difference?"
"You weren’t supposed to know that," Melissa said, her voice strained. "They forced this out of me. Please, Markus, let it go." Her mind raced with the reality of her situation; in normal life, she'd avoid him entirely, but here, in this prison of sorts, without rights or legal representation, she needed all the allies she could muster.
She shifted the conversation, her tone becoming more urgent. "How's my case going? Is the payment issue settled?"
Markus shook his head, his expression serious. "The payment was late because Grabesh's connection to the international financial system is poor. Low trading volumes cause the currency to fluctuate a lot, and sometimes there are more transfers, and then the system gets overwhelmed. But it should have gone through by now."
"Does that mean I'll be released soon?" Melissa asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
Markus looked surprised. "You don't know what's going on?"
"Nobody tells me anything," Melissa retorted, frustration seeping into her voice. "I'm completely in the dark."
"You had an assessment yesterday," Markus explained, his voice low. "It was to generate a report for potential buyers... for you to be sold as part of the loan default."
Melissa recoiled at his words. "I know that much. But this can't happen! I can't be sold as a slave here! Has the bank not said anything?"
"Tariq explained to the bank that the payment was late because Arbek was making a foreign transfer from England," Markus continued, ignoring her distress. “But then the bank got suspicious when they learned Arbek left the country right after taking out the loan.”
Markus laughed, “It probably also didn’t help that Tariq couldn’t tell them what Arbek did with the money. Now they're afraid he's making a run for it!”
“Markus, this isn’t funny!” Melissa said, helplessly tugging on her chains. “They are holding me here because of this. I’m ‘repossessed’! If they go through with this, I will be sold like a real slave! Do you not understand that? They could actually sell me as a real slave here! This is not funny. This is not a joke!”
“Yes, you’re right, Melissa, sorry. But what were you thinking, putting your life into the hands of Mr Bicep Brain?”
Melissa's frustration morphed into anger, her voice sharp with indignation. "I didn't 'put my life' into anyone's hands, Markus! I trusted Arbek because I had no other choice. I never imagined... this!" She yanked at her chains again, the metal clinking with a hollow sound.
“Of course you had another choice, Mel. You just chose to go with Mr Flex-A-Lot.”
Melissa knew that Markus wasn’t talking about her choice to become Arbek’s slave. He was referring to her choice of Arbek over him.
Melissa felt a surge of anger and humiliation, her cheeks burning. “I chose Arbek because I was looking for something different, Markus. Not because I thought he was better than you in every way. Can we stop talking about that? I need to get out of here!”
Markus's expression softened slightly, his amusement fading into something closer to concern. "Yeah you’re right. It's just, seeing you like this... it's hard to wrap my head around how you thought he’d be a good idea."
He paused, then added with a more serious tone, "Anyway, normally, they'd accept a late fee and release the collateral, but now they don't trust your Mr Six-Pack anymore. The bank wants to sell you quickly to recoup their money. They're not willing to wait for pretty boy to sort out whatever mess he's in."
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his for any sign of an ulterior motive. "I see. And do you have a solution to this? Or did you just come to gloat?"
Markus looked away, his discomfort hidden beneath a veneer of concern. "I... I can offer you a way out of this, Mel. I can buy you. I've got the money. I can make sure you're not sold to some stranger who might not treat you well. You'd be with someone you know, someone who cares about you."
Melissa's voice cracked as she tugged at her chains, the sound echoing her turmoil. "What do you mean? Buy me to… keep as a slave, Markus? Your actual slave?"
Markus nodded and looked at her, “Yes.” There it was. He had proposed the unthinkable. The old Markus would never have even contemplated this. But the new Markus was ready to do what it takes to get her.
Her voice rose in pitch, a mix of disbelief and desperation. "Are you serious? You could rescue me from all of this, allow me to get my old life back, but instead you’d rather keep me as your slave? How can you even suggest that? How can you think that's okay?"
Markus inhaled deeply, meeting her gaze with a look of both resolve and sorrow. She was asking him to do the 'right thing'—to buy her and then release her. But what would that achieve? He'd deplete a significant chunk of his savings, only for her to return to Arbek, leaving him alone once more. Thanks to his generous help, Arbek would be back to fucking Melissa while he, Markus, would end up love- and sexless again. Sure, he might recover his money if either Arbek or Melissa repaid him over time, but the truth was, sticking to society's expectations brought him no personal gain here. Horst and Werner had made it clear: there was no reward for him in following those norms; he'd just be serving others' interests while his own went unnoticed.
And this would go on for the rest of his life: Some idiot would always be fucking the girl he wanted unless he finally learned to stand up for himself. It was like they had told him: If he didn’t pursue his interests, no one else would.
No, he decided, despite his affection for Melissa, he wouldn't be the one left holding the short end of the stick. If he was going to rescue her, there needed to be something in it for him. And that something was Melissa herself.
"Melissa, I know it sounds awful. But think about your options here. If I don't buy you, you'll end up at an auction. Who knows who would buy you then? A brothel? Some harsh master who doesn't care about you? Here, with me, you'd be with someone who knows you, who has always cared for you."
He paused, seeing the disbelief in her eyes, and continued, "I'm not saying it's ideal, but it's a way out of an even worse fate. I can promise you, I'll treat you better than anyone else here would. We could... we could make this work, somehow."
Melissa's voice trembled, "So, your solution is to own me? After everything, you'd reduce me to a slave?"
Markus's face was pained, but he kept his voice steady. "I’m not reducing you to anything, Mel. It was not me who talked you into becoming a slave. That was Arbek. I've seen how they treat slaves here, and I know I can offer you a life far better than what you'd get elsewhere."
“But… but why wouldn’t you free me, Markus?” Melissa asked.
Markus took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on Melissa's eyes, a mix of determination and longing reflected in them. Of course, she wanted her freedom, but that would come at a significant cost to him. Her plea to be freed would make him a mere tool for her benefit, when in fact he held all the power here. She was the one in chains, not him. This was exactly what Horst had warned him about: society making him feel like a pawn when he should be the one playing the game. Markus sought a balance; he wanted to help her, but he wouldn't let himself be used like this anymore. Melissa needed to understand that this was a give-and-take situation.
“Melissa, I'm not saying this is the perfect way to do it, but I want you to be with me. I know you don't see it now, but I truly believe that we belong together. I've thought about us a lot since you left, and despite everything, I feel like this... this is a second chance for us.
“If I free you, you'd go back to a life where we might never find each other again. Here, with me, I can give you time, show you what we could have together. You might not understand it now, but I'm convinced that eventually, you'll see that we're meant to be together. If it helps, don’t think about this as me buying you. I'm buying time for us to reconnect, to build a relationship together. I promise, I'll make this work, make it something beautiful for both of us. You'll see, in time, that you are meant to be with me.”
Melissa whispered, "Markus, I... I need a moment," she said, her voice quivering with the weight of her situation. She looked around the sterile room, the walls feeling like they were closing in.
Melissa's thoughts were racing. She knew Markus was offering a twisted form of rescue. She didn't want to be anyone's property, least of all Markus's, but the alternative was a life in a brothel. She knew the local people here had no compassion with their slaves. The memory of her experiences at the Health Office, the invasive procedures, the loss of dignity, the cattle prods and tasers and Safina’s torture methods were still fresh.
She could not take pain well and as much as the thought of being enslaved to Markus repulsed her, the worst he would do to her would not even come close to what the natives did to their slaves. She knew Markus from when they dated. She could not even imagine him being violent. It was just not in his nature.
If she wanted to survive this, she had to try to stop seeing Markus as the man she had rejected. He was now her potential savior.
—
Melissa's eyes were wide with a mix of fear and incredulity, her voice trembling as she sought to understand Markus's proposal. "Markus, are you... are you seriously saying you want to buy me?"
Markus nodded, his gaze steady but his voice betraying a hint of unease. "Yes, Mel. I want to buy you, to keep you safe from... from all this."
She shook her head, trying to make sense of it, her chains clinking faintly as she moved. “And then keep me as your slave?”
Markus replied, "Look, Melissa, being here in Grabesh, seeing how things work, how slaves live... it's changed my perspective. I've seen how the pensioners manage their slaves, how their lives are structured. And I've thought about it. A lot."
"Changed your perspective, how?" she pressed.
"I've... grown to like the idea of people owning slaves. And you would not just be a slave to me, Melissa. I think we could have a good life here, together."
—
"How long do you plan to keep me enslaved?" her voice trembled with insecurity and fear, her eyes searching Markus's for any sign of compassion or a clue to her future.
Markus took a moment to gather his thoughts, aware of the gravity of what he was suggesting and the need to frame it in a way that would not seem entirely heartless. He leaned forward slightly, his voice measured but sincere.
"Melissa, I understand this is a lot to take in," Markus began, his tone softening. "I'm not talking about keeping you as a slave indefinitely. What I'm proposing is a chance for us to start anew, here, where we can control our circumstances. I want you to understand that this isn't about reducing you to something less; it's about giving us a chance to build something meaningful from this mess."
He paused, seeing the resistance in her eyes, and continued, "I know it sounds like I'm trapping you, but I see it as an opportunity for us to reconnect, to see if there's something we missed before. I'm not promising you freedom immediately because I believe in what we could have together. I want us to have the time to explore that, without the pressures of your old life pulling you away.
"I've learned here that life isn't about following the rules society sets for us; it's about finding happiness in our own way. I think we could find that happiness together, but we need time to do that. So, no, I'm not setting a specific time for your... for our situation to change. I want us to decide that together, when we both feel ready. In the meantime, I promise you'll have a life that's far better than what you'd face out there in the open market."
He looked at her earnestly, trying to convey his sincerity without admitting the darker side of his motivations. "I know this isn't what you imagined, but consider this: it's a controlled environment where you have someone who cares deeply about you, not just another number in a catalog of slaves to be bought and sold. We can make this work, Mel. I believe in us."
Melissa's expression was a mix of confusion and horror, but Markus knew he had to keep selling this as her best option, without making it sound like a permanent sentence. He was banking on her pragmatism in the face of immediate danger to accept what he was offering, even if it was cloaked in the language of love and second chances.
—
Her voice was laced with desperation as she continued, "How would you even afford this? How would you pay for me?"
Markus looked at her, his expression firm. "I have savings, Mel. I've been careful with my money. While Tariq was busy talking to the bank I found a finance institute in the capital that can do quick international transfers. I can transfer the money to Grabesh at short notice. And I'm willing to use it for you."
Melissa's heart sank further, the reality of her situation solidifying. "So, you've thought this through? You're ready to do this?"
"Yes," Markus replied, his voice now steady as if trying to convince both her and himself. "I'm ready to do whatever it takes to keep you out of the hands of someone who might not care for you like I do."
The weight of her chains felt heavier than ever, the gravity of her decision pressing down on her. Melissa knew she was out of options, trapped between a life she dreaded and one she feared. She nodded, her mind racing with the implications of what she was about to agree to, but for now, she was cornered into acceptance.
—
He leaned toward her, trying to project reassurance. “Listen, Mel, think about it. If I don’t buy you then you will go to an auction. Who could bid highest in an auction? A decent man? Or rather a ‘business’, if you know what I mean.”
Melissa shuddered at what his words implied. A business would likely be able to outbid private people because they would make a profit on her. And the types of businesses interested in her would be brothels who would work her hard to make their money back. Or one of these rent-a-slave businesses like “Mutual Mastery” that had rented Kaya and Liana to the pensioners. That could be her future.
“This way, you'll be safe,” Markus continued. “I care about you, more than anyone else here. We could be together.”
Melissa was exasperated. "'Be together'? But I'd be enslaved to you, Markus! I’d be your property. I would literally be your slave!"
“I understand, Melissa. I love you. But if you don’t want my help, then tell me to go away and I will go away.”
Melissa's face was a study in incredulity, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly agape as Markus laid out his proposal. "You actually want to do this, Markus? You want to buy me and then keep me as your slave here?" Her voice was sharp, but she tried to control herself. She was aware that her situation was precarious and Markus might be her only hope to change her situation. She could not afford to alienate him.
Markus shifted uncomfortably, his voice soft, trying to convey sincerity. "It's not like that, Mel. I'm trying to protect you. I'm giving you a way out—"
"A way out?" Melissa's voice was laced with disbelief, but she kept her tone measured. "You know I'm in a corner here, and you're using that to... to what? Make me yours?" Her words were careful, the anger there but tempered by the reality of her situation.
He looked down, the weight of his decision clear in his expression. "I know how it seems, but I promise, my intentions are—"
"To keep me?" she finished for him, her voice softening, not with acceptance but with the necessity of diplomacy. "Markus, I understand you think you're saving me, but this isn't what I want. I don't want to be anyone's slave."
Markus's face was a mix of guilt and determination. "So, what would you prefer, Mel? Being with me, a man who loves you, or spending the rest of your life as just another slave in the Grabesian slave system?"
Melissa took a deep breath, her chains a constant reminder of her vulnerability. "You're asking me to choose between being your slave or being sold off to some kind of brothel."
He nodded, understanding the compromise she was making. "Yes, Mel. That's the reality. But I'll do everything in my power to make this life good for you. I'll treat you with respect. I want this to work between us."
She looked at him, her gaze piercing through his intentions. "Then do it, Markus. Buy me, but I'm not agreeing because I want to be your slave. I'm agreeing because the alternative is worse."
Markus's expression hardened, his resolve faltering at her words.
He wanted her, but not under duress. He didn't want her to be with him like Kaya and Liana from Mutual Mastery, serving whoever they were passed to. He wouldn't purchase her if she was unwilling. He wanted her, but there was a limit to how far he'd go. He wouldn't impose this on her. That would not be right. She needed to show some willingness, or he wouldn't proceed.
He shook his head, his voice firm but pained. "No, Mel. I won't buy you under these conditions. Either you want to be with me or you don’t. And if you don’t want to be with me then I won’t pay for you. I'm not that kind of man. You're either with me willingly, or not at all."
—
Melissa's mind was a whirlwind of panic and calculation. The metal of the cuffs around her wrists seemed to tighten. She was cornered, the proverbial rock and hard place closing in on her. Buying time was now her only strategy.
This reminded her of the bus drive from Zawadi to Ngalawa Bay all over again. But worse. She had been caged up, Arbek had been too occupied talking to Zahara in the bus and the only one remembering her and offering her a life-saving drink had been Markus. Now she was chained to this floor and would be auctioned off as a real slave for the rest of her life. And where was everyone? Arbek was in England this time, and again with Zahara, just like on the bus. Maybe they were even hiking again at this very moment of her greatest despair. She hadn’t heard from Tariq. He might be pursuing another futile lead, or maybe he had given up. She didn’t know. The only person offering her help was Markus. She didn’t like his offer. But there were no good options and sometimes the only one open for business was the devil.
—
The air seemed to leave the room as Melissa's heart sank and Markus rose from his chair.
Panic briefly crossed her face before she managed to school her features. "Markus, wait, please don't leave me like this," she pleaded, her voice softening, her words carefully chosen. "I... I didn’t mean it like that. I accept your offer. I want to be with you."
Markus looked at her, searching for truth in her eyes, the conflict within him clear. "Do you really mean that, Mel? Because I can't... I won't do this if you're just saying it now and then make trouble for me later."
Melissa knew she had to sell the lie, for her survival depended on it. She lowered her eyes, then looked up at him with what she hoped was sincerity. "Yes, Markus, I mean it. If I'm going to be a slave either way, I’d rather want it to be with you. Please, don't leave me to the mercy of the Grabesians."
Markus studied her face, wanting to believe her, needing to believe her. "I want you to be sure, Mel. Because once this happens, you will be mine."
"I'm sure," she lied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I choose you, Markus. I want you to be the one who buys me."
His expression softened, relief mingling with the hope that perhaps this could be a new beginning for them, even under such dark circumstances. "Alright, Mel. I'll buy you then. We'll make this work, I promise."
Melissa nodded, her heart racing with the complexity of her situation. She knew the path she was on wasn’t easy, but for now, she had secured her immediate safety. She would not be sold off into the Grabesian slave system never to be heard of again, she would still be with her friends.
