The world had rotted.
After decades of conflict, natural disasters, and plagues, the human population had dwindled to dangerous lows. Cities once teeming with life were now hollowed shells of their former selves, with skyscrapers left to decay and entire towns abandoned, overgrown by nature. The streets were mostly empty save for the occasional elite, their luxury vehicles rolling silently through what remained of civilization. The collapse had brought an opportunity for those at the top to seize control, making the weak even weaker, and establishing new rules for survival in this hostile environment.
In this world, women had become commodities. With so few remaining, they were traded, sold, and auctioned off like prized livestock—breeding cattle, essential for the survival of the human race. Families of the elite had grown powerful by controlling these "resources," breeding and training women to be docile, obedient, and above all, fertile. Marriage was a transaction, heirs were the currency of survival, and love had long since been stamped out of existence. Now, securing a partner wasn't about affection or companionship—it was about securing the future.
For men like Rody Lamoree, the pressure to marry and produce heirs was relentless. His family, one of the wealthiest and most powerful in this world, had been on him for years. His father’s voice echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his duty: “*Find a partner, secure the bloodline, have an heir.*” This was all that mattered now.
Rody had delayed, resisted the notion of buying a woman like a piece of property, but the reality of the world kept crashing down on him. His reluctance had been dismissed by his family as foolish idealism, and he was growing weary of the constant arguments. They had already scouted women for him, lined them up like cattle at an auction. Each time, he had found himself disgusted—not by the women themselves, but by the system that had turned them into products.
But then, there was Vanessa.
Vanessa had been born in a breeding facility—one of the countless factories that produced women for the elite. She had never known a life beyond her gilded cage, trained from birth to be submissive, docile, and perfect. Every smile, every bat of her eyelashes had been carefully curated to please the men who bought her. She had been taught that her body was a tool, a weapon, and her mind was to be hidden away, buried beneath layers of sweetness and obedience.
In public, she was a masterpiece of submission, a well-crafted doll that made every man salivate and every woman seethe with envy. She was everything society demanded of her: beautiful, silent, and utterly compliant.
But behind closed doors, Vanessa was a different creature entirely.
Rody first noticed it during their initial meeting. His family had arranged the purchase, and he had reluctantly gone through the motions, expecting her to be just another blank-faced product. She had sat before him, all honeyed smiles and fluttering lashes, her head bowed in the perfect picture of submission. But there was something about the way her eyes lingered on his, something that made his skin prickle.
That night, when they were alone in his expansive, cold estate, Vanessa’s demeanor shifted like the flick of a switch. She no longer smiled. Her eyes, previously docile, were sharp, cold, and calculating. Her voice, so soft and sweet in front of others, took on a tone of biting sarcasm.
“Well, aren’t you lucky,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall with a smirk. “You’ve got yourself a nice little toy. How does it feel?”
Rody stared at her, shocked by the sudden change. He wasn’t sure what to say—wasn’t sure if he even could. This world was one of control and domination. The elite owned their partners—every breath, every action, every thought.
