Mya paused the continuation of her story to take a deep breath. Just from her expression alone it felt very difficult to talk about her past. Assad saw the quiet silence that Mya was brewing into the atmosphere.
"Hey you know it's fine if you don't want to talk about it."
Mya slowly raised her head and looked directly at Assad's direction. Her eyes were red almost like she was crying but doing her absolute best to hold in the tears.
"I'm okay, sometimes it's best to let out the pain by letting someone with open ears like you to give their time and listen to our stories…even if they are full of tragedy." Mya said, her voice whimpered, still trying to hold back her tears.
Assad stared at Mya, seeing how she was desperate to release the weight of her shoulders and agreed to let her talk more.
"We were all adopted by a man we saw as a father. He took care of us, loved us… but he had one flaw. He was drunk. Every Saturday and Sunday night, after he'd had too much, he would beat us."
Her hands tightened into fists, knuckles turning white. "One day… he almost hurt Ano — our oldest. That's when we knew we couldn't stay. And then… we ran out of money."
She paused, tears shimmering in her eyes.
"I once overheard him on the phone. All I caught was… 'Good. Meet ya at four.' Eventually, he told us we were going on a trip somewhere. We were curious… even excited. He then gave us a social or polite smile and said, 'We're going to the Fōrokku-wan.'"
They were so happy and they jumped and laughed, thinking it was a real adventure. But when they arrived, black cars were waiting.
From one of them stepped a man, sharp as a black panther, dressed in a suit. His gaze swept over them. "
So… these are my products. You've kept them well all these years. Here's your money."
With a snap of his fingers, one of his guards handed him a briefcase. He thanked them coldly. Ano asked, trembling,
"What's… going on?"
The man flashed a cruel grin, reminiscing a rather malleable face.
"You useless beasts, making me waste my money… pretend to be drunk, living lies… but it was all worth it. Now I'm rich beyond measure. Sayōnara… you worthless bitches."
The sisters' screams shattered the air, jagged and raw, echoing off the walls of the empty street. Molly clawed at the side of the black car, her nails scraping against the cold metal.
"No! Please! Come back!" she cried, her voice breaking with fear and fury.
Nui's hands shook violently as she reached toward him, tears blurring her vision.
"Father! Don't leave us! Please! We… we need you!"
Ano, the eldest, her chest heaving, screamed through her sobs.
"I'll do anything! Take the money back! Just… just don't leave us here!"
The engines of the black cars roared to life, their tires screeching against the pavement. The sisters screamed louder, their voices overlapping in a chaotic mix of terror and heartbreak and even pounding on the doors, clawing at the windows, their cries sharp and ragged.
"Stop! Stop! Don't do this!We didn't mean to please! PLEASE!"Molly shrieked, tears streaming down her face like rivers.
But the cars didn't stop. The street swallowed their desperate cries. In just moments, the black vehicles disappeared, leaving behind only the fading echoes of their screams. The sisters were gone.
All that was left was a haunting emptiness. Their hands, reaching out toward nothing, trembled in the still air the world felt cruelly silent in the aftermath, as if it had consumed their sorrow whole.
Mya's voice quivered as she continued.
"After we were sold… the dealer—the black panther in a suit looked at all of us. He only saw Ano and Nui as… useful because of how… developed their bodies were for mermaids."
She glanced down at her trembling hands.
"Then he looked at Molly and me… and said we were still too young. But… he made us a deal. If we could get him a drug… called JABE… and 2 million Ciza, he promised he wouldn't auction… or worse, hurt our older sisters."
Assad's fists clenched, his silver eyes narrowing. He wanted to say something, anything, but Mya pressed on.
"We… We agreed. Molly and I… we agreed because saving Ano and Nui… that was all that mattered."
Her voice cracked, small sobs breaking through.
"That's why… why we stole the briefcases from you, Assad. That's why Molly… she said…"
Her words faltered, and she buried her face in her arms. Assad knelt beside her, unsure of what to say, his heart pounding as he instinctively reached out.
"Mya… hey, it's okay. You—"
A voice sliced through the air, smooth, cold, and dripping with amusement.
"How true… heartbreaking… of a fairytale."
Both Assad and Mya froze.
Micha's voice, calm yet laced with quiet mockery, shouldn't have been so close. Assad's gaze flicked to the reflection in the shop's cracked mirror and behind him she stood, perfectly poised, one hand resting over the other.
Her maid uniform was immaculate, as if she hadn't just emerged from a battlefield. Not a speck of blood, not a wrinkle in sight and her black hair shimmered softly in the dim light, her eyes reflecting an unsettling, sharp calm.
Noticing their tension, she tilted her head slightly… and bowed.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you."she said softly, her voice smooth like silk.
Assad's jaw tightened. "You have a strange way of showing that."
Mischa straightened, her smile polite, her eyes unblinking.
"Old habits die hard. I sometimes forget how easily humans can be startled."
Her gaze drifted to the small, cluttered table between them.
Two black briefcases sat there silent, heavy, and buzzing with unspoken tension.
Her smile widened just a fraction. "Ah… the young master's briefcases are here."
She waved a gloved hand dismissively. "But we'll get to that later."
Her sharp, icy eyes shifted to Mya.
"For now…let's focus on you." she said softly, taking a single step forward,
Mya flinched at her tone. Assad tensed, subtly positioning himself between them.
Mischa's expression remained unchanged. Her voice was sweet, but her words dripped with venom.
"I heard your story and it was truly, heartbreaking."she said
She clasped her hands together in front of her chest, tilting her head slightly as if in prayer.
"If the man holding your sisters hostage were here right now…he would've regretted ever crawling out of his mother's womb in the first place."her tone dropped, colder than winter steel.
Mischa's gaze lingered on Mya a moment longer before she shifted her attention, scanning the room.
Her voice came out calm, almost casual but it had that subtle authority that made both of them instinctively straighten up.