Sara had been prepared to be sent to her new owners—the Archers. She wore an elegant, fine black dress with a white pashmina. Her jet-black hair was perfectly styled, cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her high heels were black as well.
Perfumed and clean, Sara was being transported to the Archer mansion, as payment had already been completed. She couldn't imagine any other kind of life. Outside, it was cold—bitterly cold—but Sara had been dressed to look flawless, with no warm clothing. It didn't matter if she was cold or had needs. Those no longer mattered.
When they arrived, Mr. Archer was waiting for them. They were taken to the sitting room, where the final paperwork was handled. Once everything was signed, her captors left, leaving Sara behind.
"Welcome, Sara," said Mr. Archer. "I am Mr. Archer, and you will belong to my son, who is your age. Please, follow me."
Sara was led through the luxurious mansion to the library, where Mr. Archer's son was waiting.
"Nick, happy birthday, my son."
"Dad!" the young man, with golden hair and sky-blue eyes like a summer afternoon, ran into his father's arms, beaming. "Thank you!"
"I bought you a gift, son."
"Dad, you know the best gift you could ever give me is simply being here."
But then the blond fell silent upon seeing Sara standing there. Almost instantly, his face flushed red down to the roots of his hair. Sara looked more beautiful than ever—scarlet lips, dark violet eyes, porcelain skin, all framed by her black hair.
"Sara? What are you doing here?"
"She's your birthday gift, son," said his father.
"…What did you just say?"
"Sara, the maiden, is your present. I bought her from The Perfect Girls agency."
"…You did what?"
Nick began to step back, unable to believe what he was hearing—or seeing.
"Since when was Sara for sale?" Upon hearing those words, the dark-haired girl closed her eyes in sorrow. She had just remembered that boy.
Back in the early years of secondary school, they went to the same school. He wasn't rich, and his last name wasn't Archer—it was Acosta.
He had simply followed her around wherever she went. He was a good friend, but back then, Sara had been a different person—someone who wasn't interested in matters of the heart.
How things had changed. Now that same blond boy had a new last name, great wealth… and owned her.
Nick was a millionaire, and Sara had become the perfect girl—belonging to him, a boy who now had the power to do whatever he wanted with her. When their eyes met again, Nick saw the emptiness in Sara's beautiful gaze. She was no longer the girl he had known in school.
But little by little, he began to realize what must have happened to her.
He looked at his father in pain.
"Nick? Son? What's wrong?"
"Sara was the girl I always liked, Dad. But they killed her."
Mr. Archer stared at them, surprised. Something needed to be done.
"Nick, I had no idea about any of this."
"I never told anyone, Dad."
"In that case… doesn't this give you a chance to bring her back?"
Nick looked at Sara, feeling how his feelings for her had never truly faded. He still liked her—deeply. And despite himself, she really was perfect. His father's words made sense.
"Yes… it's true, Dad."
"You're sensitive, son. You'll know how to handle this. Good luck, Nick. I'll leave you two alone."
His father left them in the room and returned to his duties. Nick then gently embraced Sara and noticed how cold her body was.
"Sara… are you cold?"
"Yes."
"You should've told me."
"No."
"…No?"
"A perfect girl… never says anything. Right?"
"No. That's not true. My God, Sara… what did they do to you?"
But Sara didn't respond.
Nick led her to his room and gave her clothes to wear. Then he took her out shopping to get her new clothes. Yet Sara showed no emotion. She let him pick everything. She even wore what he told her to wear.
They ended up at a café, sharing a table. Nick laughed and talked non-stop, but Sara remained quiet, answering only when asked. Much to his sorrow, she behaved exactly as she had been taught.
Quiet. Obedient. Loyal. Speak only when your master allows it.
Those words echoed endlessly in her mind, tormenting her. She couldn't bear what she had become. And now she belonged to that blond boy she once knew… from a time when she had been a person, and not the hollow shell she was now.
Nick gently took Sara's hands in his, speaking softly.
"Sara, I swear I'll help you. The last thing I want… is for them to have won. Please, trust me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
With a cold gaze and not a single muscle moved, Sara looked at her owner. Moments later, she replied in a lifeless voice:
"Yes, my lord."