Chapter 3

Sarah’s POV

The pang in my chest resurfaces and this time, it’s even harder and intense. My heart throbs erratically, my chest constricting. The feeling is overwhelming and foreign. And it took just those words ripping out of Mr Grim’s lips to get these emotions swiveling through my body.

Mr Grim’s rival is still holding me in a firm grasp. His arm becomes even tighter around my waist and I can feel his nails piercing through my dress. I flinch and wriggle my body against his, trying to break free of his grip.

“Let her go,” Mr Grim says again, the spite in his voice getting louder and more noticeable. He’s shooting daggers at the guy, looking at him like he wants to have his head on a silver platter.

What the hell is going on? Who are these men and why are they dragging me into whatever conflict they’re having?

“And why should I?” He spits, his expression and attitude very sour. He clenches his teeth and digs his nails into my waist.

I yelp and Mr Grim takes note of it. I’ve been too quiet and it’s enough now. I’m about to give this asswipe a piece of my mind and maybe kick him just where Mother Nature splits him. In one swift motion, he grabs my arm and tears me away from his opponent’s grasp, pulling me close to his own chest.

I land on his chest and place my hand on his torso for support. I would’ve lost my balance had he not wrapped his arm around my back and steadied me.

“Like I said, she’s mine,” he says in a gruff as if counting each word and talking to a 5-year-old. His arm slithers down my back, caressing me softly and I stiffen. “And you don’t look like you can go higher than $1,000,000,” he sniggers.

Mr Maguire chuckles and peers at the dude, awaiting his response. But he doesn’t say a word, he stares at Mr Grim in anger and it’s obvious he can’t beat the $1,000,000 bid.

“Going for $1,000,000! And we have our highest bidder for tonight!” Mr Maguire announces, now the happiest person in the room. “Congratulations, Mr John Stones!” He beams at my date.

So that’s his name...

Mr Stones doesn’t respond to that. He gestures at his bodyguard who hands him his checkbook. Right in front of us, he writes Mr Maguire a $1,000,000 dollar check. I see the greedy man’s eyes widening while he salivates. I don’t know why I find everything about him irritating.

By this time tomorrow, I’ll be walking away with so much money than I have ever worked forin my whole life. Maybe this auction isn’t such a bad thing.

“This isn’t over,” Mr Stones’ rival threatens in a malicious tone.

Mr Stones grabs me by the hand and I stare at him but he doesn’t return the gaze. He leads me out of the place, ignoring his opponent’s existence. I follow quietly, examining his amazing facial features. Even when he’s angry and cold and always wearing a grim expression, he’s still handsome, devilishly good-looking.

“You can stop staring now,” he tells me the minute we get to his car.

“What?” I stutter awkwardly and clear my throat. “I wasn’t staring. I swear I wasn’t.”

He frees my hand and his bodyguard opens up the back door for him. “Get in the car,” he orders, no hint of friendliness or whatsoever in his tone.

“Where are we going?” I ask, glancing at my watch. There are things I need to take care of tonight at home and I have to not stay out too late.

“Don’t ask questions. Just get in,” he says again, now harsher than before.

“Excuse me?” My own countenance changes. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me where we’re going, Mr Stones,” I tell him sternly. If he thinks he can do whatever he pleases with me and treats me like those other women without scruples, then he’s terribly mistaken.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

“And neither am I.” I stand firm, crossing my arms and scowling at him. He glares at me with an unreadable expression. I wonder what’s going on in that head of his.

We engage in a staring contest for what feels like a minute before he speaks. “Listen here, I just splurged a million dollars on you.”

“And so?” The words evade my mouth before I even realize.

“By implication, I own you. You’re not even worth half the money yet I...” He pauses, sucks in a deep breath and exhales sharply.

I’m thinking of a million things to say to him, vile things to say to him when he signals at his bodyguard who instantly picks me up from the ground and drops me in the backseat.

“Hey! This is kidnapping!” I scream as Mr Stones joins me in the backseat. “Let me go! I demand you let me go right this instant!”

He nestles besides me and his bodyguard shuts the door. He turns to me and I increase the tone of voice. I scream at him to let me go and swing at him. He blocks it and I swing at him again. He merely evades this time, a scratch appears on the side of his face. Seeing him injured, I keep my mouth shut, scared for my life. Who knows what this man might do to me?

Mr Stones hisses. “Did that make you feel better?”

“What?” I furrow my brows.

“Did hitting me make you feel better?”

“Yes!” I reply cheekily, fighting my fear. I can’t be afraid of him. I’m no weakling. “I’m not scared of you.”

“I can see that.”

“Let me go or else...”

“Or else?”

“I’ll hit you again,” I warn him, tightening my fists and raising them at him.

He looks at me wryly and chuckles sinisterly. “If it makes you feel better, do it.”

He’s daring me! Alright!

I swing at him, he grabs my hands and pushes me to lay on the backseat. He hovers above me and presses his body on mine.

And in a husky voice, he says, “I’m going to make a feast out of you.”