Chapter 2 – The Devil's Bid

I couldn't breathe.

The spotlight burned against my skin as dozens of strangers stared at me.

My legs trembled so badly I thought they would give out beneath me.

"What is this?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Dad... what are you doing?"

He didn't answer. He wouldn't even look at me.

The man behind the microphone smiled as though this were nothing more than an ordinary business meeting.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "Miss Ava Carter, twenty-one years old. Healthy, educated, hardworking. Her father has offered her hand in marriage in exchange for the settlement of a substantial debt."

The room remained eerily calm. As if this happened every week. My heart slammed against my ribs.

"No..." I breathed.

I spun toward my father.

"You can't do this."

He finally looked at me, his face cold and unreadable.

"I already have."

Tears blurred my vision.

"I'm your daughter!"

"And I'm your father," he replied. "Which means I decide what's best for this family."

"This isn't what's best!"

"It's the only way."

His words hit me harder than any slap ever had.

"You owe money," I whispered.

He said nothing.

"You gambled it away?"

His jaw tightened.

"I did what I had to do."

"So I'm paying for your mistakes?"

"You'll live."

I stared at him, searching desperately for even a trace of the man I used to call Dad.

There was nothing. Only a stranger.

The host cleared his throat.

"The agreement includes the cancellation of every debt owed by Mr. Carter. The successful bidder will assume full legal responsibility for Miss Carter under the terms of the contract."

My stomach twisted.

I wasn't a daughter anymore.

I was a bargaining chip.

Suddenly, the massive doors at the back of the hall opened.

Every conversation stopped. Every head turned.

Heavy footsteps echoed across the marble floor.

Whoever had entered didn't need an introduction.

The room itself seemed to recognize him. Power followed him like a shadow. Men who had looked confident only moments ago straightened in their seats.

Some lowered their eyes. Others exchanged nervous glances. I couldn't see his face from where I stood. Only polished black shoes. A tailored black suit. Broad shoulders. An unmistakable air of authority.

Someone leaned toward another guest and whispered a name. The name sent a ripple through the room.

The Mafia King had arrived.

For the first time that night...

I felt something even worse than fear. I felt that my fate had just walked through the door. The room fell into a silence so complete that I could hear my own heartbeat.

Whoever had just entered commanded respect without saying a single word.

I lifted my gaze.

He was taller than anyone around him, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that fit his broad frame. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his sharp jaw was set in a permanent expression of indifference. His face was unreadable, almost carved from stone.

He didn't glance around the room. He didn't need to. The room revolved around him.

The man at the microphone straightened immediately.

"M..Mr. Ashford," he said with a respectful nod. "We're honored by your presence."

Ashford?

The name sounded familiar, but before I could place it, the whispers began.

"Lucian Ashford..."

"I didn't think he'd come."

"Who's brave enough to bid against him?"

A chill ran through me.

So this was Lucian Ashford.

The man people feared.

Lucian didn't acknowledge the whispers. He walked to the front row and took his seat with effortless confidence, crossing one leg over the other.

Then, for the first time...

His eyes met mine.

My breath caught. His gaze was steady, piercing, impossible to escape. It felt as though he could see every fear I'd ever hidden.

I quickly looked away. The host cleared his throat.

"Shall we begin?"

Several men nodded. My pulse quickened.

"No," I said, my voice shaking. "I won't do this."

No one responded.

I took a step backward, desperate to leave the stage. A security guard blocked my path.

"Please," I begged. "Just let me go."

"I'm sorry, miss."

His expression softened for only a second. "I can't."

I turned toward my father.

"Dad... please."

He remained seated, staring straight ahead. It was as if I no longer existed. Something inside me cracked.

The hope I'd been clinging to all evening finally slipped away.

The host unfolded a document.

"The agreement will now be presented to interested parties."

A thick folder was passed to several men seated near the front.

Lucian didn't even reach for it. Instead, he watched me. Not with amusement. Not pity.

Just simply... watching.

His expression didn't change, but I had the unsettling feeling he was studying every detail—my trembling hands, the tears I was fighting back, the bruises peeking out beneath the sleeve of my dress.

His eyes paused on the fading mark near my wrist.

For the first time since he'd entered the room, something shifted in his expression. It lasted only a heartbeat. Then it was gone.

One of the men flipped through the contract and frowned.

"This girl doesn't know what she's agreeing to."

Another shrugged.

"That's not unusual."

A wave of nausea hit me.

I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I could disappear.

Lucian finally spoke.

His voice was calm and deep with a hint of curiosity, yet every word carried through the room. "Who gave her those bruises?"

The question wasn't loud.

But it silenced everyone.

Slowly...

Every eye turned toward my father. And for the first time that night...I saw fear in his face.

The silence stretched across the room until it became unbearable.

My father shifted uneasily in his chair, avoiding Lucian Ashford's gaze.

"I asked a question," Lucian repeated, his voice still calm. "Who gave her those bruises?"

My father's throat bobbed.

"She... she's clumsy."

The lie came out so easily.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

After years of covering for him, I couldn't do it anymore.

"No."

The single word left my mouth before I could stop it. Every head turned toward me. I swallowed hard, my hands trembling at my sides.

"I didn't fall."

My father shot to his feet.

"Ava?"

His warning echoed through the hall.

But something inside me had already broken.

"You hit me," I said, my voice shaking. "You always hit me."

Small gasps filled the room.

"You liar!" my father snapped.

"I'm not lying."

My eyes burned with unshed tears.

"You broke my ribs last winter."

His face drained of color.

"You slapped me this morning."

The room remained silent.

"I've spent years hiding the bruises because I thought maybe one day you'd change."

I laughed bitterly. "I was wrong."

My father took a step toward the stage, but two security guards moved in front of him.

"Sit down," one of them ordered.

"You don't tell me what to do!" he shouted.

Lucian rose from his seat. He wasn't angry. That somehow made him even more intimidating.

He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve before looking directly at my father.

"You brought your own daughter here to settle a debt."

His voice was quiet.

"Then you lied to everyone in this room."

My father opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Lucian glanced at the host.

"Is that contract based on false information?"

The host quickly scanned the papers.

"...Yes sir."

"And the rules?"

The host hesitated.

"If the information provided by the sponsor is proven false, the agreement is considered invalid until reviewed."

A murmur spread through the room.

My heart pounded.

Invalid?

Did that mean...

Was I free?

Before hope could take root, the host cleared his throat again.

"The agreement is suspended."

My knees nearly gave out in relief.

"But..."

The single word shattered it.

"...the debt remains unpaid."

My father's eyes widened.

He knew exactly what that meant. The people he owed money to wouldn't simply walk away.

Lucian stepped forward, stopping only a few feet from the stage.

For the first time, I saw his face clearly.

Cold. Sharp. Unreadable. Calm.

Yet there was something else in his eyes as they met mine.

Not sympathy. Recognition.

As if he had made a decision.

He looked back at my father.

"You owe a debt," he said evenly.

"Y..yes, sir I..I do," my father admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucian reached into his jacket and removed a single black card, placing it on the table in front of the host.

"I'll settle it."

A wave of shocked whispers swept through the hall.

Even my father stared in disbelief.

"But," Lucian continued, "not for the arrangement you proposed."

His gaze found mine once more.

"I have a different offer."

Every person in the room leaned forward.

My father's face lit with desperate hope.

"What offer could you have that I couldn't deliver?"

"Anything you want sir, I am willing to give."

Lucian didn't answer him instead he gave him a cold but disgusted look before looking at me.

I alert my gaze from his intense one.

"You'll hear it tomorrow." I heard him say.

With that, he turned and walked toward the exit. The doors closed behind him with a heavy thud.

And at the moment...

I knew my life had just changed forever.

I just hope for the better.