JUST COLLATERAL

CHAPTER EIGHT

I step out of the bathroom on shaking legs, trying to pull myself together.

My makeup is fixed. My dress is smoothed down. On the outside, I look presentable again.

On the inside, I'm still trembling from what just happened. From his hands on my body. His words in my ear. The way he left me aching and unsatisfied.

Collateral. Nothing but collateral.

I push the thoughts away and walk back down the hallway toward the dining room.

But when I reach it, the room is empty.

The table is still set. Half-eaten meals sit on elegant china. Wine glasses stand abandoned, some still half-full.

But there's no one here.

"Hello?" My voice echoes in the empty space.

Nothing.

Anxiety starts creeping up my spine. Where did everyone go? They were just here ten minutes ago. Fifteen at most.

Did Dante leave without me? Is this another one of his games? Another way to punish me for daring to show weakness?

I walk back out into the hallway, looking both ways.

The corridor stretches in both directions, lined with ornate doors. Everything looks the same, expensive, elegant, completely unfamiliar.

I don't know this place. Don't know this house. Don't even know what city in Colombia I'm in, let alone how to find my way around this mansion.

My heart starts beating faster.

Stay calm. Just find someone and ask where everyone went.

I start walking, choosing a direction at random. The hallway seems to go on forever, doors on either side leading to rooms I know nothing about.

I'm not just in a strange country. I'm in a strange place, completely isolated, with no idea how to navigate it.

This is exactly what Dante wants, I realize with growing dread. He wants to break me. Make me so lost, so dependent, that I have no choice but to rely on him for everything.

I turn a corner and find myself facing another long hallway.

At the end, I spot a double door. Larger than the others. Different.

Maybe that's where everyone went? Maybe the auction is happening in there?

I walk toward it slowly, my heels clicking against the marble floor. Each step echoes too loudly in the silence.

My hand reaches for the ornate door handle.

What's the worst that can happen? They tell me I'm in the wrong place?

I turn the handle and push the door open.

I'm not prepared for what I see.

Girls. At least twenty of them. All roughly my age, maybe younger. They're dressed in elegant gowns, some in red, others in black, a few in white. Beautiful dresses that would look perfect on a runway.

But they're all chained.

Heavy metal cuffs around their wrists, connected by short chains. And their ankles, each girl has a chain attached to her left ankle, connecting her to the person in front of her in a long, horrible line.

Armed guards stand around them, holding rifles. Their faces are cold, bored, like this is routine.

One of the guards is barking orders in Spanish. The girls flinch with each word.

My stomach drops.

Oh god. This is the auction. The real auction.

I start backing away slowly, trying not to draw attention. Trying to slip back out before anyone notices.

"Hey!" One of the guards spots me. "Where do you think you're going?"

I freeze.

"I...I'm sorry. I entered the wrong room. I was just..."

"Wait." Another guard steps forward, squinting at me. His eyes widen with recognition. "I know you. You were in one of the cages from the American shipment."

My blood turns to ice.

"No, you don't understand. Mr. De León..."

"Do you think you can escape?" He laughs, a harsh sound. "Nice try, chica."

Two guards are suddenly in front of me, grabbing my arms before I can run.

"No! Please!" I struggle against their grip. "You don't understand! Mr. De León took me with him. I'm not supposed to be here!"

They drag me into the room. The door slams shut behind me with a finality that makes my heart stop.

"Please! I'm telling the truth! He brought me to dinner. I'm supposed to be his..."

"His what?" One of them sneers. "Mr. De León never shows interest in anyone. He hates women. You think a nobody like you would catch his attention?"

The other guards join in the laughter. Mocking. Cruel.

"Nice story," the first one says. "But we've heard better."

They drag me toward the line of girls. I fight them with everything I have, digging my heels in, twisting in their grip.

It doesn't matter. They're too strong.

One of them produces chains from somewhere. Heavy, cold metal that feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.

"No, please, just call him. Just ask Mr. De León. He'll tell you..."

"Shut up." A sharp slap across my face makes my ears ring.

I taste blood.

Tears stream down my face as they lock the cuffs around my wrists. The metal bites into my skin, too tight, cutting off circulation.

"Please," I sob. "Please, you're making a mistake..."

They attach a chain to my left ankle. The weight pulls at my leg as they connect it to the girl in front of me.

I realize with sickening clarity that I preferred being with Dante. Preferred his games, his cruelty, his control.

Because at least with him, I knew the rules. Knew what to expect.

This? This is being sold to a complete stranger. Someone who might be worse. Someone who might...

I can't finish the thought.

Would Dante even care once he finds out I'm being auctioned?

Would he count me worthy of saving?

Or would he decide I'm not worth the trouble? Just another piece of collateral, like he said. Disposable.

More tears flow as the reality sets in. I'm chained up like an animal, about to be sold to the highest bidder, and the only person who might possibly stop it thinks I'm worthless.

A guard emerges from another room, clipboard in hand.

"Prepare yourselves," he announces in heavily accented English. "The auction is about to start."

Another guard starts moving down the line, pressing something to each girl's shoulder. When he reaches me, I see it's a stamp. He presses the cold metal against my bare shoulder, and when he pulls it away, there's a number printed on my skin in black ink.

3

I'm number three.

"Listen carefully," the first guard says, pacing in front of us like a drill sergeant. "We're moving you to the auction hall now. If you're not purchased tonight, you're considered a liability to our boss."

He pauses, letting that sink in.

"And you know how we treat liabilities?" His smile is cold. "We eliminate them. So make sure you're chosen."

Several girls whimper. One starts crying openly.

My stomach churns. I think of the girl who was deemed too heavy. What happened to her?

We eliminate them.

Oh god.

"Move!" The guards start pushing us forward like cattle. The chains connecting us jangle with each step.

We shuffle forward in our line, connected by metal and fear. My ankle chain pulls every time the girl in front of me moves, forcing me to match her pace.

We're led through another inner hallway. Narrower than the others. Colder. The walls are bare concrete here, no expensive artwork or elegant decorations.

This is the part of the house the guests don't see.

At the end of the hallway, there's another set of double doors. These are even larger, more ornate. I can hear voices on the other side. Lots of them.

The guards position us in front of the doors.

"Remember," one of them says. "Smile. Look presentable. Make them want you. Your life depends on it."

Then they push the doors open.

The auction hall is enormous.

It's decorated like a theater, with rows of plush seats rising in tiers. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting glittering light across everything. The walls are covered in rich burgundy fabric with gold trim.

And the people.

Oh god, the people.

They're everywhere.

Men in expensive suits that probably cost more than a car. Women dripping in diamonds and designer gowns that could feed a family for a year. They sit in the plush seats holding champagne glasses, talking and laughing like this is a social event.

Like they're not here to buy human beings.

I scan the crowd desperately, looking for Dante's face. That silver-streaked dark hair. Those cold, amber-flecked eyes.

He's not here.

My heart sinks.

Of course he's not here. Why would he be? He probably went back to whatever he was doing. Forgot about me already.

Just collateral.

The guards drag us to the front of the room. There's a raised platform, a stage, with dramatic lighting focused on it.

I feel like I'm going to throw up.