Chapter 2

THE AUCTION

The room went quiet when the four men walked in.

I noticed it immediately the way the other women stopped talking, the way their heads turned. These weren't ordinary rich guys. There was something different about them. Something that made the air feel charged.

I was standing in a small alcove backstage, away from the main floor. A woman with a clipboard had positioned me there, told me to wait.

Through the curtain, I could see the main auction floor. Expensive lighting, sleek modern furniture, the beautiful women scattered around like pieces on a chessboard.

The four men stood together, and I couldn't look away.

The first one was in a business suit. Tailored, expensive, perfect. He had ice-blue eyes and sharp features like he was carved from stone. 

Something about him made me think of danger dressed up as money. He looked cold. Untouchable.

The second one was older, maybe in his forties. Rugged in a way the first man wasn't. He wore a dark button-up shirt and jeans, like he didn't care about fitting into this world. His eyes were kind, but there was something sad about them. Like he was carrying something heavy.

The third one was tall and lean, with dark hair and an intensity that made my chest tight when I looked at him. He wasn't smiling, but he didn't look cold either. He looked like he was watching everything, analyzing, taking mental notes.

The fourth one was the most striking. He had this ease about him, this confidence that made every other man in the room look small. He wore dark clothing that somehow made him look more expensive than the suited guy. He was smiling, but it was a dangerous smile. 

"They're early," the woman with the clipboard said, and I jumped. She was standing right next to me, her eyes on the men. "That's unusual. Clients are never early."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

She didn't answer. She just checked her clipboard and walked away, muttering something under her breath.

I watched the four men through the curtain. They weren't looking at the women on the display floor. They were looking at each other, having a conversation I couldn't hear. The oldest one said something, and the suited one grind his teeth. The tall one shook his head. The dangerous one just smiled that dangerous smile.

Something felt off about this.

I thought about my mother in the hospital. I thought about the fifty thousand dollars. I thought about how I had no other choice.

The woman with the clipboard came back and gestured for me to follow her.

"You're first," she said.

My heart started racing.

They'd put me in a room with mirrors on one wall. The woman explained that the mirrors were one-way. The clients could see me, but I couldn't see them. It was supposed to make me feel safe, I think. 

I was wearing a black dress they'd given me. Simple, elegant, expensive-looking. It fit like it was made for me. I'd asked how she got my size, and the woman had just smiled and said they were good at their jobs.

"When you go out there, stand in the center of the room," the woman instructed. "The men will bid. You'll hear their bids through the speakers. When someone bids on you, you'll have thirty seconds to decide if you accept. If you accept, you'll be taken to a private room with that client for the night. Do you understand?"

I nodded, even though my hands were shaking so badly I had to clasp them together to keep them still.

"The minimum bid is five thousand dollars. The maximum is whatever they want to offer. These men are wealthy. They bid high." She paused, looking at me.

"Don't be surprised by the numbers."

She left me alone in the room.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The girl looking back at me was someone I didn't recognize. She looked scared. She looked desperate. She looked like someone who was about to do something that couldn't be undone.

I thought about my mother again. That helped. It made the fear smaller somehow. Made it manageable.

A voice came through the speaker. Calm, professional, like this was an auction for furniture instead of a person.

"Candidate twenty-three, you're up."

My legs felt weak, but I walked through the door anyway.

The main floor was darker than I expected. The lighting was dim, moody, designed to make everything feel intimate. The women were displayed on a raised platform in the center of the room. I was directed to stand there, and suddenly all the eyes in the room were on me.

I could feel them. I couldn't see them clearly because of the lighting, but I could feel them looking at me like I was a piece of meat in a butcher shop.

The auctioneer stood at a podium. He was an older man with gray hair and a sharp suit.

"Candidate twenty-three," he announced. "Twenty-five years old, art student, available for the evening. Starting bid, five thousand dollars."

Five thousand dollars. That's what they were starting at. For one night.

"Ten thousand," someone called out.

My stomach twisted.

"Fifteen thousand," another voice.

I could see movement in the shadows. Men leaning back in their chairs, watching me like I was the most interesting thing they'd seen in a long time.

"Twenty thousand," a third voice said. This one sounded different. Deeper. It made something in my chest tighten.

There was silence for a moment. Then the dangerous-looking one stepped forward, into the light.

It was the fourth man. The one with the dangerous smile.

"Thirty thousand," he said, and his voice was smooth like silk wrapped around broken glass.

The room went very quiet.

The auctioneer looked surprised. "Thirty thousand from the gentleman in the back. Do I hear thirty-five?"

Silence.

"Thirty thousand, going once. Thirty thousand, going twice—"

"Thirty thousand five hundred," the oldest one said. He'd stepped forward too, into the light. His eyes were on me. 

"Forty thousand," the dangerous one said.

Everyone gasped. Forty thousand dollars for one night with me.

"Gentlemen, I'm going to stop the bidding here," the auctioneer said, looking flustered. "We have four candidates still to show. Standard auction rules apply. Shall we move to the next candidate?"

But the dangerous one shook his head.

"I'm not interested in the others," he said, looking directly at me. "I want her. Forty thousand. That's my final offer."

The auctioneer looked at the other three men. The suited one looked angry. The sad one looked conflicted. The tall one looked like he was calculating something.

None of them bid higher.

"Sold," the auctioneer said. "Forty thousand to the gentleman in the back."

I stood there on the platform, trying to process what had just happened. I'd just been sold. Like an object. For forty thousand dollars.

And the man who bought me was still looking at me with that dangerous smile.

They took me to a private room to prepare.

A woman helped me freshen up. She gave me perfume, touched up my makeup, straightened my dress. She was kind, professional, like she'd done this a thousand times.

"What's your name?" she asked, applying lipstick to my mouth.

"Sienna," I said.

"Well, Sienna, your client is waiting in the suite. He's paid forty thousand dollars for your time tonight, which means you're going to be very well compensated. The house keeps twenty percent, you keep eighty. That's thirty-two thousand dollars in your pocket." She paused. "For one night."

Thirty-two thousand dollars.

That was more than two-thirds of what I needed.

"Is he... is he safe?" I asked.

The woman smiled. "They all are. We wouldn't allow them here if they weren't. And there are security measures in place. You have a panic button in the room, a phone, everything you need. If you feel unsafe at any point, you can leave. No questions asked."

But I wouldn't leave. Because thirty-two thousand dollars was too much to walk away from.

She finished my makeup and led me to a door.

"Good luck," she said, and then she left me there.

I took a breath. I opened the door.

The suite was beautiful. Expensive furniture, mood lighting, a king-size bed with silk sheets and sitting on the couch, still wearing that dangerous smile.

He stood when I came in.

"Hello, Sienna, " he said, and his voice made my skin prickle.

"I've been waiting for you for so long." And then he walked toward me.