Half-Million Dollar Bait： Campus Belle’s Hell - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading Half-Million Dollar Bait： Campus Belle’s Hell, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of Half-Million Dollar Bait： Campus Belle’s Hell.
My stomach churned as I fought back bile, forcing my eyes open against the pounding in my skull.
The air was thick with a rancid stench—sweat, fear, and something rotting. Dim light seeped through cracks in the walls, barely enough to see the horror around me.
Where the hell am I?
Fragments of memory clawed their way back—Gregory Hill's smug face, the rough towel smothering my mouth, the world going black.
They'd played me. After everything I'd done to help them, they'd betrayed me.
Who were these people?
Why me?
White-hot rage burned through my veins. I wanted to hunt them down, string them up, and make them scream for what they'd done.
"She's awake." A young girl's voice, smooth and fluent in Burmese, sliced through the darkness.
I turned my head—slowly, painfully—toward the sound.
The shack was damp, the wooden walls slick with mildew. And I wasn't alone.
Three girls crouched in the corner, their clothes torn, their skin caked in grime. One of them—Chinese, like me—met my gaze with hollow, sunken eyes.
"Who are you?" I rasped in Mandarin, pushing myself up on shaky arms. The other two girls—Burmese—just stared blankly, but the familiar face understood.
"Sophia Evans," she whispered. Her voice was raw, her arms littered with bruises. "I was… on vacation."
"Where are we?" I demanded.
She shook her head, her lips trembling. "I don't know."
The sight of her wounds sent a cold spike of dread through me.
I didn't need a map to figure it out—I'd been thrown into the lion's den.
Before coming to Mandalay, I'd done my homework. Myanmar's jungles were a lawless playground for warlords and drug cartels. I'd only dared to come alone because Ethan—my boyfriend—had sworn the area near his company was safe.
But the second I stepped off that plane, I'd been marked.
From the other girls, I pieced together the truth: Gregory Hill and Margaret Lowell weren't just shady—they were monsters. They lured girls from back home and across Southeast Asia, then sold them to Myanmar's underworld like livestock.
If I didn't get out, within a week, I'd be some drug lord's personal toy.
The thought hit me like a punch to the gut.
I was fresh out of college. My life had barely started. And now? I'd been sold.
If my parents ever found out, it would kill them.
My only hope was Ethan. Maybe he and the cops could track the clues I'd left behind.
But here, locked in this stinking hellhole with two armed brutes outside, escape seemed like a sick joke.
Just as I was running through half-baked plans, heavy footsteps thudded outside.
The girls in the corner flinched, their bodies shaking like leaves in a storm.
Their terror was contagious. I scrambled back, my pulse roaring in my ears as the door creaked open.
A mountain of a man stepped in, shirtless, his chest branded with a scorpion tattoo. His eyes locked onto me, dark and hungry.
My blood turned to ice.
The air was thick with a rancid stench—sweat, fear, and something rotting. Dim light seeped through cracks in the walls, barely enough to see the horror around me.
Where the hell am I?
Fragments of memory clawed their way back—Gregory Hill's smug face, the rough towel smothering my mouth, the world going black.
They'd played me. After everything I'd done to help them, they'd betrayed me.
Who were these people?
Why me?
White-hot rage burned through my veins. I wanted to hunt them down, string them up, and make them scream for what they'd done.
"She's awake." A young girl's voice, smooth and fluent in Burmese, sliced through the darkness.
I turned my head—slowly, painfully—toward the sound.
The shack was damp, the wooden walls slick with mildew. And I wasn't alone.
Three girls crouched in the corner, their clothes torn, their skin caked in grime. One of them—Chinese, like me—met my gaze with hollow, sunken eyes.
"Who are you?" I rasped in Mandarin, pushing myself up on shaky arms. The other two girls—Burmese—just stared blankly, but the familiar face understood.
"Sophia Evans," she whispered. Her voice was raw, her arms littered with bruises. "I was… on vacation."
"Where are we?" I demanded.
She shook her head, her lips trembling. "I don't know."
The sight of her wounds sent a cold spike of dread through me.
I didn't need a map to figure it out—I'd been thrown into the lion's den.
Before coming to Mandalay, I'd done my homework. Myanmar's jungles were a lawless playground for warlords and drug cartels. I'd only dared to come alone because Ethan—my boyfriend—had sworn the area near his company was safe.
But the second I stepped off that plane, I'd been marked.
From the other girls, I pieced together the truth: Gregory Hill and Margaret Lowell weren't just shady—they were monsters. They lured girls from back home and across Southeast Asia, then sold them to Myanmar's underworld like livestock.
If I didn't get out, within a week, I'd be some drug lord's personal toy.
The thought hit me like a punch to the gut.
I was fresh out of college. My life had barely started. And now? I'd been sold.
If my parents ever found out, it would kill them.
My only hope was Ethan. Maybe he and the cops could track the clues I'd left behind.
But here, locked in this stinking hellhole with two armed brutes outside, escape seemed like a sick joke.
Just as I was running through half-baked plans, heavy footsteps thudded outside.
The girls in the corner flinched, their bodies shaking like leaves in a storm.
Their terror was contagious. I scrambled back, my pulse roaring in my ears as the door creaked open.
A mountain of a man stepped in, shirtless, his chest branded with a scorpion tattoo. His eyes locked onto me, dark and hungry.
My blood turned to ice.
End of Half-Million Dollar Bait： Campus Belle’s Hell Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Half-Million Dollar Bait： Campus Belle’s Hell book page.