His property

0.18

"Do you think they'll be happy to see me?"

"I don't know."

"Do I look different?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe I shouldn't go."

Declan turned to me and gripped my shoulders. "We are 30,000 feet in the air and you want to turn back now?"

We were sat in Declan's private plane. Something I had no idea he owned but as he told me when we arrived at the hangar 'I'm a mafia king.' as if that was enough reason to own three of your own planes and a helicopter. Despite the fact that Declan had four air vehicles flying made him tense. Everytime we would hit a bit of turbulence he would grab my hand. Although this was my first time flying I loved it, the idea of being high above the ground was exhilarating.

"You've flown before." Declan said

"When?" I asked

"When you were abducted." He joked. Me being forcibly taken from my home has become a bit of a joke between me and Declan. "But you were knocked out. So this is your first conscious flight."

When the plane landed I changed into a pair of blue denim three-quarters and a black tank top. It felt so good to wear something other than white for a change. Declan was also dressed casually in a white button down and a pair of black trousers.

The car ride was almost the same as the plane ride.

"Declan let's go back."

"No."

"Declan I'm feeling sick."

"You're just nervous."

"OK."

My palms sweated and my stomach felt like it was being throw around. The car stopped infront of a large house, not as big as Declan's but it could still fall under mansion.

"Where are we?" I asked as the car drove into the large gate as it opened.

"Your house." Declan deadpanned.

"How the hell did this happen?" I got out of the car and walked towards the front door. There were two Mercedes Benz parked in an open garage. The grass was green and freshly cut. The house was three stories high and there infront of it all were my parents dressed in traditional Swaziland dress. I froze still not knowing what to do. Were these strangers really my parents? Maybe Declan was tricking me so that I wouldn't go home to my real parents.

I almost turned around and walked back into the car when Declan put a firm hand on my back and walked me to my parents.

"Kifo Nzuri!" My mother cried as both of them embraced me. They shook hands with Declan.

"Mom, dad this is Declan." I introduced. "Declan these are my parents?" I knew it sounded like a question because I wasn't sure they were my parents.

"We know who he is," my father cheered. "The man who has been looking after my daughter."

"Come in come in please." My mother insisted. We walked into the house and a man, one of the workers, took our bags to our rooms. I followed him up as Declan and my parents talked. It was rude of me to leave like that but I needed some breathing space.

The man left our bags in the room and I looked around. It looked so fancy, there were African style paintings on the wall but everything looked like something out of a hotel. I felt so out of place in my own home and country.

I needed my sisters anyone of them to just explain this to me. There was a knock on the door and someone entered I hoped it was Namakau but it was my father.

"So how have you been?" He asked

"Fine." I answered. It's just that I was raped and once almost beaten to death oh and my parents sold me to a stranger, I thought.

"That's good."

"Where did you get the money for all this?" I hadn't meant to sound rude the words just came out.

"Declan," My father sighed. "He's been funding all of this."

"Oh." I tightened my fists against my sides. So it was a trade was it? Sell your daughter for some kind of income.

"Your sister will be coming with her husband." My father chuckled. "Also a white man."

"Which one?" I tried to steady my breath.

"Anike." He said. "We sold her after we sold you."

My heart dropped. Anike was second oldest she was 21, I prayed to god she was bought by someone who loved her.

"Where's Namakau and Biola?" I asked.

His face dropped and he looked around like the answer would jump off the walls. "Biola's husband refused to let her visit us this year, he says it's too soon."

"And Namakau?" I could feel the pain forming at the back of my throat at what the answer might be.

"She wasn't good to her husband." he said emotionlessly.

"What is that suppossed to mean?" but instead of answering my father walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

I paced around the room and tried not to let my thoughts get the best of me. Namakau was strong and brave and everything in between, there was no way anything bad could have happened to her. Not at all. My stomach felt queasy as I let the bad thoughts into my head and I soon found myself throwing up over the toilet bowl.

When I finished I sat up and looked at myself in the mirror.

"Look at what they've done to you."