I flinch.Is she really okay with this?
My lower lip protrudes while I reach for the straps of my bra. I try to plead with her using my eyes, but her expression is dead. She doesn’t care about me. She only cares about the auction.
I frown.Does she get a cut of the sales?
She holds up her clipboard and says, “Two and a half, going once.”
Someone barks, “Three million!”
My face flushes as I drop the bra. The woman stares sternly at me while pointing lower—she wants me to drop the thong, too.
She’s got to be fucking kidding me.
More voices cut through the room. The woman keeps up with each bid, responding calmly and kindly while directing me to turn around. I drop the thong. I stand as tall as I can, trying not to hide anything.
Showing fear always makes it worse. I learned that with Lorenzo. I have to stay confident if I want to survive.
But Jesus, it’s hard to do that when I can’t evenseethe bidders. What kind of man is about to purchase me? Will he be old and demanding? Or will he be young and ruthless?
“Sold,” the woman announces cheerfully. “To the bidder in room four for ten million dollars.”
Oh God, I should have been paying attention.
Before I can collect my clothes, the woman grabs my upper arm and drags me to one of the doors. She knocks twice and steps back. The door opens, and a man wearing a bored expression waves for me to walk into the room.
It’s dimly lit. Champagne sits inside a gold bucket full of ice. Two champagne flutes sit next to an array of food—slices of meat, cheese, fruit, the works. Cushioned seats are everywhere. It smells lovely in here, like lilac and vanilla.
Such a weird contrast to the dungeon where I came from.
The man who opened the door pushes me toward the corner of the room. The lavender cushions look so inviting. I want desperately to sit down.
I gulp.
When the security guard leaves, I stand shakily near the door to the auction room. There’s no way out. I have no choice but to stand my ground and hope that I’ve been bought by some rich jerk who just wants me to lie in bed and look pretty.
I nearly snort.
What kind of fantasy world do I think I’ve stepped into? It’s nothing but cages and chains from here on out.
My resolve cracks a little more.
What if he’s a sadist?My eyes widen.What if it’s like those horror movies where they torture you until you die?
Tears flood my eyes as my throat closes up.
Just let it be an old pervert, I beg quietly as I turn around.Let it be some weird kinky dude who just wants to bang until he passes out. I can do that. I can survive that.
I shake my head.
Who am I kidding? I can’t handle this. I can’t survive. I have no idea what’s about to happen.
The door opens. I snap back to reality and cross my arms over my chest, trying to hide. Shadows shroud the figure who steps into the room. I squint to study his features—I want to know what he looks like so I can burn it into my memory forever.
When he steps into the light, I gasp.
He’s pale white with rich chestnut hair and bright green eyes. Light stubble decorates his face. He’s wearing a neatly pressed Armani suit with a gold watch.
He closes the door and nods.