A man like me isn't capable of redemption.
I sell women. Abuse them. Demean them. The day I banged the gavel for the first time is the day I sold my soul, and there's no coming back from that. I've never wanted to. Until she shows up.
She should be just another commodity, but I'm drawn to her in a way I didn't think was possible. Against my better judgement, I take her for myself, convinced she's an itch I have to scratch. But she has me under her spell and wishing for redemption instead.
The problem is, when you try to crawl out of Hell, the demons drag you back down. And I'm afraid my demons will drag her down with me.
