🎵Somebody free me from these chains.
Somebody hold me; I'm losing my patience.
Somebody free me from these chains...
Free me, free me, I plead🎵
Her voice was soothing, haunting, and seductive. The kind of voice that made a man stop breathing just to hear better. It wasn't just music. It was pure magic. She sang like an angel and no one could resist the impact of her voice.
She was the priceless jewel of Goshen town, a walking treasure, modeled by the gods themselves. Her very presence made men lose their reason, and I was no exception.
Every evening, I found myself at the bar—drawn not just by the music, but by her. The way she moved to the rhythm was sinful. Her hips swayed like silk caught in a breeze, and her waist kept staring at me, even the belly dancers could plead for her to give them a tutorial on how to shake that body.
She was gold, a unique goddess. And I, Widen Sawyer, son of Baron Ziek, the Cotton Lord, wanted her. Not just her body, but her power, her mystery, and everything about her.
She wore her wealth like perfume—subtle but intoxicating. That smooth, fair and well poised skin spoke of privilege. She wasn't like the other girls I've met. This girl was luxury, and everything about her kept on pulling and calling me.
But that night at the bar wasn't like the others. It was different, a bloody one, and the scar still followed.
It was 1997, also known as the year of harvest and joy.
The people of Goshen town lived happily, and they depended on their cotton field for a source of living. My father, the great Baron Ziek, ruled over an independent town that wasn't under the control of the Overlord. He controlled the cotton trade like a king and he was very proud of it.
The cotton field was the only means of survival for the town, and other neighboring towns would come to trade with us. They paid huge amounts of money and traded expensive materials to get cotton and take it to their own towns.
The town was the most popular, vibrant, peaceful, and joyful, filled with the laughter of people, both young, old, women and men.
Their happiness made the town live longer, but who knew one day would be enough to destroy a once peaceful and vibrant town?
Just a day could ruin everything they have worked so hard for.
A day is enough for destruction and total condemnation.
I was in my room with my best friend Zack Willer. We planned on going to the bar at night to have fun and flirt with girls; you know what's up. Smiles.
Before the night the disaster happened and before I even went to the bar or saw the beautiful damsel on the platform.
I remember that day so clearly. I was in the cotton field helping my mother when I saw her, an angel from afar.
Her shiny black hair swung down her back. Her figure? A carved temptation. Every step she took whispered wealth and perfection. I stood frozen and drooling. When our eyes locked, she gave me a welcoming smile, a challenge, and a tease, and believe me, I was gone in a second.
I left my mother without a second thought.
I followed her carefully as she walked into the cornfield. But when I reached the field, she had vanished. My pulse raced. Was it a game? A trap? Either way, I was all in.
Then I heard her speak.
"Hide or seek?" she asked, her voice was seductive and intoxicating.
I grinned. "Don't play games with me, baby. We're too old for that."
"Oh, cotton boy," she whispered, "hide or seek?"
My head spun.
"I'm not here for games, angel. But if you want to play…" I bit my lip, my heart kept on hammering. "Sure. I'll play."
"Hide or seek?" She whispered.
"Seek," I said.
"Try to find me."
A twig snapped, and I turned.
Her veil danced in the wind. I followed, drunk and hypnotized by lust and curiosity. Twigs scraped my arms and legs, but I didn't care. I would bleed for this girl.
And then, there she was. I caught her right in my arms.
"You found me," she smiled.
"Of course. I've grown up in these fields—I know them like my own skin," my breath brushed against her ear. She shivered like a little child and I loved that.
"Hide-and-seek," she whispered back.
God, please, no more of that. I pleaded in my thoughts.
"No, please. Forgive my manners—I'm Widen, son of—"
"Baron Ziek. The Cotton Lord." She interrupted.
She knew me too well and not only her, everyone in the town knew me.
"Everyone knows the baron's son—the golden boy who chases skirts and breaks hearts, AKA the playboy." She scoffed.
I chuckled; she caught me. I was a wild predator, and my rod was my weapon.
I leaned in and spoke slowly.
"I've changed. I'm super rich, baby. Tell me what you want; I'll give it. Jewels? Horses? A villa with fountains? A land, name it."
She raised a brow, unimpressed. "Meet me at the bar tonight." She kissed my cheek and walked away, as she moved I couldn't take my eyes off her hips.
"Can I get a name?" I called after her.
"Sasha," she whispered.
Her name echoed in my head like a song I couldn't stop humming. What has she done to me?
Just as I was admiring her fading silhouette, I felt a sharp knock on my head.
"Mother!" I yelped.
She was the only one who had my button.
She glared. "Are you here to chase women or gather cotton? We have guests tonight."
"Sorry, Mother," I muttered, my cheeks burned red.
We finished harvesting and made our way to the mansion. The sun was merciless; my skin screamed and begged for shade. Just as we were dropping off the cotton, we halted and could hear a heated argument from inside the mansion.
"Stay here," Mother ordered, her tone was sharp.
I leaned toward the door and Father's voice echoed throughout the whole place.
"I will not hand over the blood, sweat and tears of my forefathers! My family depends on this land, not just them but the whole town. It is our legacy! and I will never give that away."
The man he argued with replied, his tone venomous.
"How dare you defy the Lord? The lord over other lords and the supreme ruler of the six towns."
"I don't care,this is an independent town and I do not take any orders from your damn Overlord." Father snapped.
"You've had your chance. Next time, we won't be so kind, so think wisely… if you love your family and this pretty little town." The man screamed.
"You can do nothing," Father growled.
Suddenly, the door swung open—slamming into my poor nose; I was scared it might have been broken. I gasped, holding my face as I saw a group of men walked past me like shadows of death.
The atmosphere changed when they passed by. I could feel there was trouble, but I stood there, silent, bleeding, and confused.
I ran inside and found Mother gripping my Father's arm.
"Father… what did they want?" I asked.
"They're just rebels; it's nothing to worry about," he said, his voice loud and firm.
"No, Father. That man… He threatened you, not just you but the whole town."
"It's nothing to worry about, Widen." He walked away.
"Mother?" I called in concern.
"You heard your father. "It's nothing," my mother replied.
But I knew better. I could sense and feel darkness; it was surrounding us like a shield, but since they assured me it was nothing to worry about, I felt relieved.
Still, my mind betrayed me, thinking about the beautiful damsel, Sasha. Her voice, her touch, everything about her and tonight, we'd meet again.
The night tragedy struck, the night that changed everything forever.
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