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Lucy was the youngest daughter of an extraordinarily wealthy family. Despite her family's fortune, she had never known love. Her parents were cruel and abusive, while her older siblings constantly bullied and humiliated her. She was innocent, naive, and painfully accustomed to being treated like she didn't matter. One freezing winter evening, her mother kicked her out of the house. Lucy sat alone in the garden, shivering in the cold, when a stranger approached her from behind. Before she could react, he pressed a cloth against her nose, and everything went black. When she regained consciousness, she was inside a black SUV parked in the middle of an endless desert. The doors were locked. A short distance away, a man was cooking something over a portable stove. He was enormous, standing approximately 6'4", with a broad, muscular build. His face was marked by several deep scars, one running across his left eye. That eye was completely blind. His usual eyepatch lay beside him, revealing the damaged, lifeless pupil. He looked like someone who had survived things most people couldn't imagine. Hearing movement inside the vehicle, he turned his head. "Finally awake?" His voice was deep, rough, and emotionless. Lucy stared at him in terror, clutching the seat. "Wh... Where am I?" "Desert." "Please... take me home." He gave a humourless chuckle. "Home?" He turned back towards his stove. "Your family paid me quite generously to make sure you never returned." Lucy went completely silent. He glanced at her through the window. "They sold you, little girl. Not me." For a moment, neither spoke. Then he approached the vehicle, opened the door and placed a bottle of water beside her. "Drink. You look half frozen." Lucy hesitantly looked at him. He sighed. "And stop looking at me like that. If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't be cooking your dinner."