Chapter 2: Promised A Wife

Kain Wolf hated auctions.

He hated the fake laughs. The overpriced wine. The desperate sparkle in people’s eyes, dressed up as glamour.

But more than anything, he hated wasting time.

Yet here he was—cutting short a critical meeting about his late grandmother’s philanthropic rehab center—because his assistant claimed there was “another kind of opportunity.”

The center needed urgent repairs. Flooding had destroyed half the east wing. Patients in recovery were displaced—some sleeping under tarps.

Kain scanned the emergency budget. Steep. Immediate. Non-negotiable.

“Two weeks,” he said, voice clipped. “I’m already funding four major initiatives. It’s not just charity—it’s logistics.”

The woman across from him, a rehab coordinator, leaned forward, eyes pleading. “Mr. Wolf, they’re relapsing. We don’t have two weeks.”

Kain’s jaw flexed.The storm in his chest raged quietly.

Then his assistant cleared his throat. “There’s a charity auction tonight. If you agree to be auctioned—as a date package—it could raise the money. Fast.”

Kain looked up. Deadpan. “You want to sell me?”

“Technically, yes,” his assistant grinned. “You’re Kain Wolf. The world’s most elusive bachelor. Women will bid through the roof for a night with you.”

“I hate auctions.”

“And yet… it could rebuild the wing in a week.”

Kain muttered something under his breath.

Then nodded once.

Only for the center. Only for them.

—

The ballroom was a circus.

Flashbulbs. Plastic smiles. Champagne laughter over perfume so thick it tasted like sugar and smoke.

Kain stood at the edge of it all, nursing a drink he didn’t want, while Scarlett floated through the crowd in a sequined gown, campaigning like she was running for First Lady of the Rich and Famous.

She zeroed in on him at the bar.

“You’re going to be mine tonight,” she purred, a champagne in hand, brushing an invisible speck off his lapel. “I’m bidding hard. I want your secrets—When I win the date with you, just imagine the headlines.MY PRIZED POSSESSION”

“I’d rather imagine anything else,” Kain said flatly.

His assistant leaned in, nodding toward the entrance.

“What about her?”

Kain turned.

And everything stopped.

She stood alone—backlit by crystal chandeliers—wearing a black gown that clung like liquid ink. No shimmer. No jewelry. No smile.

Just quiet fire.

Her hair was twisted in a loose knot, tendrils brushing her collarbone. Her gaze swept the room like she wasn’t trying to be noticed—and somehow, stole it anyway.

A woman who wore silence like power.

Who is she?

He didn’t know her name.

But he knew he wanted to.

—

The emcee’s voice cracked through the buzz

“Ladies and gentlemen! A surprise last-minute addition. A rare vintage piece: The Heirloom Flame—a diamond bracelet, appraised at over seven hundred thousand dollars, donated anonymously just hours ago.”

Gasps rippled. Heads turned.

Scarlett forced a laugh. “Anonymous? Probably some bored heiress trying to seduce you.”

Kain didn’t blink.

He saw the girl in black.

Still. Poised. Unimpressed.

She’s the donor. And she didn’t even care who knew.

Before he knew it, his feet were moving. The crowd parted like instinct.

He stopped in front of her.

“You,” he said. “You donated the bracelet.”

She looked up—cool, steady, unapologetic. “Is that a problem?”

His lips curved. “On the contrary. It’s the first real thing I’ve seen all night.”

No blush. No small talk. Just a stormlight in her eyes—and something behind it.Strength. Defiance.

Then—

Scarlett’s voice.

“She’s nobody,” she snapped, inserting herself like a wedge. “That’s Jade Miller. Just a poor little hanger-on who doesn’t belong here but somehow got past security..”

Kain frowned, but before he could respond , another voice spoke.Sharp. Regal.

“I submitted the bracelet in her name,” Evelyn Hartley said, stepping forward. “Because when I was about to be scammed, Jade saved me. She has more integrity than half this room.”

Scarlett’s face drained. “This is a joke.”

Jade tilted her head. Calm. Lethal. “No. This is arrival.”

—

Kain hadn’t realized he was still holding Jade’s hand until his assistant murmured beside him.

“Sir. You’re next. For the date auction.”

Right.

The stage.

—

He sat under a spotlight on a black velvet chair, pretending not to feel like a show pony. Flashes snapped. Paddles lifted.

Scarlett sat smugly with a numbered paddle. But Kain?

He only looked at Jade. Still.Intrigued.

And when the bidding began—it was war.

Ten thousand.

Twenty.

Thirty-five.

Fifty.

Scarlett, front row, looked drunk on attention.

“Seventy-five thousand.”Jade’s voice was cool and precise, cutting through the noise like silk over steel.

Scarlett’s smile cracked.

But Jade?

She wasn’t even looking at him.

She set the paddle down.

“I’m done.”

Then stood. And walked out.

Right out of the ballroom.

The crowd gasped.

Scarlett, triumphant, raised her hand again. “Eighty thou—”

But Kain was already on his feet.

He stepped off the stage.

And followed her.

—

He found her just beyond the ballroom, beneath amber light spilling through arched windows.Alone. Glowing.

“You didn’t bid,” he said, breathless without knowing why.

She didn’t turn. “I don’t believe people should be sold.Not even for charity.”

“You expected better of me?”

She turned then—eyes soft, but sharp enough to cut.

“No. I expected less. And you delivered.”

His throat tightened.

“You think I care about the money?”

She stepped closer. “I think you care about the image. The control. Letting yourself be sold like a prize? About letting people chase you because that’s safer than letting someone see you. That’s not power, Mr. Wolf. It’s desperation in disguise.”

And that—that—was the moment.

She undid him with nothing but truth.

Inside, they were screaming his name.

Out here, she barely looked twice.

And yet, Kain’s chest ached like she’d seen through him—straight to the part no one ever touched.

—

His assistant found him ten minutes later.

“Sir… the press. The auction team—what do I tell them?”

Kain didn’t blink. “Donate double what they expected. From my personal account. Let the PR team spin it however they like.”

“And the official statement?”

“Tell them I was claimed by the highest bidder.”

Just then, his phone rang.

It was his godmother.

“Kain Evans Wolf,” her voice boomed. “You had one job: be auctioned. You walked out?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know I hate performative charity. Auctions don’t end in real love, Aunt Sylvia.”

“Neither does silence.You promised a wife this year,” she shot back. “Which is why I paid an exclusive matchmaker a small fortune to set you up.”

“I don’t do blind dates.”

“You’ll do this one. Mazuka Hotel. Table sixteen. Tonight. Wear your good smile and something charming. Don’t make me hunt you down.”

“Aunt I— I don’t believe in any of that”

“Well, I believe in you. And I’m tired of you dying alone with a portfolio.”

**Fine. One drink**

“….Then I write you a cheque and leave.” Kain murmured to himself about his blind date .

“God help me,” she sighed. “You’d auction yourself but not commit to coffee?”

He ended the call.

But his mind wasn’t on table sixteen.

It was on her.

The woman in black.

The woman who didn’t need a spotlight to burn.

—

“You walked away from every woman in that room,” his assistant muttered beside him.

Kain’s gaze didn’t move.

“No,” he said quietly. “I walked toward the one who didn’t want me—for the first time.”

Then he slipped his hands into his pockets.

And vowed to find her again.

Jade Miller.