Chapter 2 - Cillian

Chapter 2

Cillian

I don’t believe in fate. I believe in control. In power. In making decisions before anyone else even realizes there’s a choice to be made. That’s how you stay alive in my world. That’s how you stay on top.

Which is exactly why I’m here. Not for the spectacle. Not for the fucking entertainment. And definitely not for the pathetic excuses of men sitting in this room pretending this is just another night.

I’m here to buy a wife. Not a real one. Not one I have to trust. Not one who’ll smile at me while planning how to ruin me behind my back. I’ve seen too much of that shit. Lived through it. Buried people for it.

No. I need something simple. Controlled. Clean.  An heir. That’s it. Someone to carry my name. My blood. And I need a woman who won’t be used against me to get it. No family. No power. No connections. No leverage.

A stranger. Bought. Owned. Temporary. Safe. That was the plan.

Then she walked onto that stage. Christ. She doesn’t belong here. Not in the way the others do. They shrink. They submit. They look like they’ve already given up. She hasn’t.

Even now, standing under those lights with every bastard in the room watching her… She’s fighting it. You can see it in the way her shoulders stay tense. In the way her chin lifts just slightly. In the way her eyes scan the room like she’s looking for a way out.

And fuck me… that defiance hits harder than anything else.

The diamonds around her neck gleam under the lights. A perfect fucking collar. Like she was made for this. But it’s her eyes that lock me in. Not soft. Not broken. Fire.

And that’s when I decide. “Two million.”

The room stills instantly. Like someone just cut the air out of it. No one moves. No one speaks. Because they all know. When I bid… It’s over. Or at least, it should be.

“Do we have higher?” the auctioneer asks, voice tighter now.

And for a second, it’s done. Then… “Three million.”

Of course. I don’t even need to look to know who it is. But I do anyway.

Marco De Santis. Italian. Arrogant bastard with too much money and not enough sense. Head of one of the biggest Italian syndicates pushing into my territory. And for the last year… a fucking problem.

He stands like he owns the place. Like, he’s not one wrong move away from being put in the ground. His eyes meet mine across the room. And he smiles.

That’s not about the girl. That’s about me. A challenge. My jaw tightens. Just slightly. Barely noticeable. But I feel it. He’s been testing me. Pushing at the edges. Trying to find a crack.

And now he thinks he’s found one. Wrong. I don’t react. Don’t give him the satisfaction. Don’t play into it. Instead, I nudge Liam.

It’s small. Barely a movement. But he understands instantly. He always does.

Liam moves before anyone even registers it. One second, he’s behind me. The next, he’s beside De Santis. Gun pressed to his temple. Clean. Silent. Final.

The entire room freezes. “Sit the fuck down,” Liam says quietly.

No emotion. No hesitation. Just a statement. De Santis doesn’t move. Not at first. His eyes stay locked on mine. Calculating. Weighing his options. There aren’t many. Not here. Not tonight.

Slowly… he sits. Smart man. For now. The tension breaks just slightly. Enough.

“Two million,” the auctioneer says quickly, clearly eager to move the fuck on. “Sold.”

And just like that, she’s mine. I stand. The shift in the room is immediate. Always is.

“She’s yours,” Declan says, already handling the payment.

“Make sure it’s clean.”

“It is.”

I step forward, eyes never leaving her. She’s still trying to process it. Still shaking. Still refusing to accept it. Christ.

The diamonds sit tight around her neck, her pulse racing beneath them. I can see it. Feel it. Her eyes snap to mine. Anger. Fear. Defiance. Yeah. That’s going to be a fucking problem.

I grab her wrist. Firm. Final and, she reacts instantly.

“Let go of me,” she snaps, trying to yank free.

I don’t move. Not even a fraction.

“Careful,” I say low, just for her. “Don’t make a scene.”

Her chin lifts. Stubborn as hell. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Christ. She pulls again. Harder. Like she thinks she has a choice. She doesn’t understand. Not yet. And I can’t let her learn the hard way in front of a room full of men waiting for weakness.

My grip tightens. Warning. Clear and she ignores it. Fine. I pull her forward and throw her over my shoulder. Effortless. Controlled. Done.

She gasps. Then fights like hell. “Put me down! What the fuck is wrong with you…”

I ignore it. Every word. Because this isn’t about her anymore. It’s about them. A message. Clear as fucking day. She’s mine.

Ronan laughs behind me. “Jesus Christ, she’s got a mouth on her.”

“No one asked you,” I snap.

He grins anyway. “Ah, I like her. She’s got bite.” Of course he does.

Declan steps beside us. “Payment’s done.”

“Good.”

Liam falls back into place as if nothing happened. Gun gone. Face blank. Like he didn’t just shut down a war with a single move. She doesn’t stop fighting. Not once. All the way out. All the way to the car. I drop her just enough to open the door.

She tries to run. Of course she fucking does. I shove her into the back seat and slide in after her.

Ronan follows. Door shuts. Locked. Done. She turns on me instantly.

Eyes blazing. Breathing hard. “This is insane,” she snaps. “You can’t just buy someone. I’m calling the police.” Fuck.

“She’s pretty,” Ronan says, leaning forward. “Bit loud though.”

“Fuck you,” she fires back.

Ronan laughs. “Yeah, I definitely like her.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ronan.”

Silence. Immediate. Except for her.

“I want to go home,” she says, voice shaking now. “You’ve made a mistake.”

I look at her slowly. Taking everything in.

“No mistake.”

Her brows pull together. “Yes, there is. I was hired…”

“You were bought.” I correct her. The words land heavily. Final.

Her face goes pale. “No.”

I lean forward. Close enough that she feels it. “You’re mine now.”

She shakes her head fast. “No, I’m not. That’s not how this works…”

“That’s exactly how this fucking works.”

The car stops in the garage. We step out. I don’t touch her. I want to see. The second she’s free, she runs. Fast. Desperate. Stupid.

She doesn’t make it far. Liam’s already there. Gun raised. Pressed to her head. She freezes instantly. Fight gone. Fear left.

“Christ,” Ronan mutters. “That would’ve been messy. Two million and we’re scraping her off the pavement.”

“Ronan.” He shrugs.

I step forward. Lift her again. Over my shoulder. She fights harder. Kicking. Hitting. “Put me down! I swear to God…”

I smack her ass once. Sharp. Controlled. “Quiet.”

She stills. Then furious again. Good. I carry her inside. Ignoring everything else. Because this was supposed to be simple. A transaction. A solution. A woman I wouldn’t give a single fuck about.

But the way she fights me… The way she looks at me like she’d burn the world down before she bends…  Oh my Fucking Christ. This is going to be a fucking problem.