Chapter 29: Was she trying to take her own life?

"Sometimes I wonder if he ever really sees me."

"I hate this life, but I love him."

"I sell girls. But I was the first girl he broke."

Feeling overwhelmed, Lunel took a deep breath to calm herself. The weight of all this information was really getting to her. She opened her digital softboard and quickly jotted down three crucial notes:

- ELI ROMANOV – DEAD (suspected V-17 overdose, found in a deserted warehouse)

- LUCENT TRADE CORP – A sophisticated drug front, involved in money laundering

- SELINA VARGAS – Once a victim, now a manipulative handler

She underlined a creepy motto in red:

"He doesn’t kill with knives. He kills with desire." It sent chills down her spine.

Next, she created a new folder on her secure system, labeling it:

"OP: BLACKLOTUS – Human, Heartless, Hunter."

It felt like she was stepping into something dark. She realized she was diving deeper into a world where desire hid cruelty and survival came with a hefty price.

She felt exhausted just thinking about everything she was discovering. What if they caught her? That thought terrified her; they would have no problem wiping her out. But she had to figure out more and get the info to GHOSTNET. They picked her for this project because they trusted her to stay under the radar.

This was just the start of her eye-opening journey; the really dangerous stuff was still out there waiting. She had no clue how high the stakes were or that what she was chasing could cost her everything.

Determined, she started mapping out what she needed to uncover. With renewed purpose, she created another folder on her system, labeling it: "FIND OUT ABOUT THE DEVIL!" She even started a Word file titled: "Fake Identities? Fake Deaths? And Why? Face Surgery?" She was serious about getting to the bottom of this.

As she continued her search, sifting through digital records and hidden files, things began to spiral out of control. This wasn’t just a network; it was a massive empire built on silence, manipulation, and unchecked power. In this murky world where loyalties shifted constantly, Lunel knew she had to be careful; one wrong move could be the end of her.

Inside her dim apartment, the only sounds were the soft buzz of her secure servers and the gentle tapping of her fingers on the keyboard. A half-eaten protein bar was left sitting next to her laptop, its crinkled wrapper tossed aside, while her coffee had gone cold, with any warmth now just a memory.

Lunel had two secure connections open: one linked to Michael’s intricate network of business accounts and the other to a secret darknet forum called "The Gilded Cage." This forum couldn’t be accessed through regular TOR networks; it dove deep into the hidden corners of the internet, locked down with advanced tech that would scare off most hackers. But Lunel, with her tenacity and skills, had managed to break through.

When she entered the forum, she came across a members-only section that claimed to host "auction-based adult fantasy events," but what she found was way more disturbing than it sounded.

These weren’t just fantasies; they were live streams of young girls being trafficked and shown off behind steep paywalls. Some wore masks to hide their faces, while others looked completely terrified, having lost all control over their situations.

Lunel dug into archived files, her heart racing as she watched horrific footage from months ago. There was Selina, projecting a chilling authority, dressed in fancy silk gloves and shining diamonds, her bright red lipstick striking against the darkness. She introduced the girls as if they were livestock at an auction, casually sharing their tragic backstories like they were just objects for sale. Some had been taken from their families, while others had been cruelly "bought" from desperate parents seeking a way out of poverty.

Right beside her was Michael Arthur, a menacing presence clutching a heavy glass of whiskey, surrounded by political donors, offshore bankers, and foreign diplomats. They shared laughs and nods of approval, their faces showing a predatory satisfaction, clearly enjoying their unchecked power. Among them was a girl who couldn’t have been more than fifteen, her innocence painfully stripped away.

Determined to uncover the ugly truth, Lunel hacked into Selina’s shell company, VARGAS NOIRE, pretending to be an art dealership. She carefully decoded a complicated ledger file and was shocked to find that every "painting" had GPS data attached. To her horror, none pointed to respectable galleries; instead, they led to deserted docks, rotting mansions, and crumbling warehouses in Turkey, Romania, and various parts of Asia.

Selina wasn’t just selling art; she was knee-deep in the horrific trade of human lives. Each "canvas sold" represented a girl, and every "auction code" came with a chilling price. Driven to untangle this web of lies, Lunel uncovered patterns in the buyers’ emails, some connected to major international foundations, revealing a network that extended far beyond what she initially imagined.

One name really stood out to her: Elias King, the CEO of Kinova Biomed, a pharma company that seemed to have a pretty solid reputation. Lunel couldn’t help but wonder what a big shot like him was doing tangled up in this mess. What could he possibly want in such a dark and twisted world? Just thinking about it sent chills down her spine as she realized how deep the depravity went. Then, she stumbled on something even more unsettling....

*********

After standing outside the cabin for what felt like forever, almost two hours, he finally went in and headed straight for the kitchen. What he saw shocked him: Zeynep was sprawled on the floor. There was a bit of blood coming from a cut on her forehead, and her hair was all over her face like she’d fallen hard. Clutched in her hand was a knife; it looked like she had tried to cut her wrist but had fainted before she could finish the job.

Without wasting a second, he rushed over to her, carefully lifting her head into his lap. He pushed her hair back to get a better look at her wound and felt for her pulse on her wrist. It was a little slow, but at least it was there. He gently took the knife from her hand and set it aside on the counter.

He laid her head back on the floor and picked her up in his arms, then headed to the bedroom, where he gently placed her on the bed. Then he dashed to the cupboard, pulled out the first aid kit, and hurried back to her. He opened it up, grabbed a clean cloth, and pressed it against her forehead to stop the bleeding, holding it there for about ten to fifteen minutes, his anxiety mounting the whole time.