Chapter 2

─❈─ AURELIA ─❈─

“Lot Number 306. Female. Estimated age: nineteen. Virgin. No prior ownership.”

A few murmurs of interest flutter across the room as the handler announces my “specs” behind me like I’m a bag of flour.

I squint, trying to see past the light… as I finally adjust to the scene in front of me.

And OH MY GOD…

A gasp nearly escapes as I take in the rows of seats filled with men in tuxedos sipping champagne.

Some, lazily filming me on their phones with a smirk on their smug arrogant faces.

“We’ll start the bidding at one hundred thousand. Do I hear one-fifty?”

“Hundred!” someone barks from the left.

The handler scoffs. “Do I hear one-fifty?” he insists.

“One-fifty,” a slick voice calls out.

Bile rises in my throat as the bidding rises fast from left to right. Voices barking over each other like dogs at a bone.

One-fifty, two hundred, three hundred…

A woman in pink heels giggles and shouts,

“Three-fifty. She’ll be perfect for my top-floor girls. Her face’ll clean up nice for the men.”

The bile in my throat threatens to spill almost instantly…

This has always been my fear.

Being bidden on by these greedy people who don’t see us as humans but as tools for their advantage.

“One million dollars,” a cold voice calmly interrupts the chaos from the back, and suddenly, the room falls silent.

Even I can’t stop my head from turning, straining to find the owner of that voice.

“One million, I have one million. Do I hear one point two?” Even the handler’s voice sounds careful.

That’s when it hits me.

It’s him…the shadowed man. I don’t know how I know—but I… I just know.

That explains why he’d been prowling around me.

I was a product and he was shopping.

That same weird feeling, like cold fingers caressing the back of my neck, assaults me again and I break into a cold sweat, chest tightening just as a strange image flashes into my brain like a whip—

A man. Naked from the chest up. Slick with sweat.

I wince as it shifts again and I’m suddenly staring into eyes—golden unnatural-looking eyes.

What the hell is happening to me?

Blinking hard, I brace my hands on the glass wall to steady my breath and wobbly knees but the faces in the crowd keeps warping in my vision.

“Going once…”

“Going twice…”

I barely hear the words over the pounding in my ears.

“Sold!” The gavel slams, sealing my fate.

Next thing I know, the same guard from before yanks me off the stage, throwing a heavy blanket over my shoulders.

“Lucky girl. Such a shame,” he mutters near my ear, breath hot and sour. “Would’ve loved to be the first to fuck your pretty little cunt. But oh well..”

Hot anger snaps inside me at his perverted statement.

“Fuck you,” I breathe, barely audible over the pounding in my skull. I’ve always wanted to do that and I feel better for saying it.

But he just laughs, unaffected.

Another girl gets shoved into the spotlight box almost immediately as I’m being led away.

“Rumor has it,” the bastard sneers, grip tightened, making me bite back a whimper “your new owner’s the King of Sicilian Flesh.”

I blink. “What?”

“Oh yeah.” He grins, flashing yellow teeth. “Runs the biggest fucking whorehouse on the Mediterranean. Everyone knows him.”

My blood runs cold almost immediately and the fucker leans in until his lips brush the shell of my ear.

“They say his girls don’t walk anymore,

“Because they spend all their time getting fucked.”

I swallow hard, trying my best to mask my fear but his voice softens, like he’s savoring my reaction.

“He breaks them in slowly. Loves the moment the fight dies in their eyes.”

My throat tightens but I force my bare feet along.

“And you?” He undresses me with his eyes. “Three days, tops, before you’re on your back begging for cock. You’ll moan like a trained bitch before week’s end.”

A door buzzes open ahead of us with a low mechanical groan, and a gust of night air slams into my face.

“You’re lying. You just want to scare me,” I mutter pathetically which earns me a loud laugh from the guards.

“Don’t worry,” he sneers. “You’ll learn to love it. They all do.”

He continues dragging me outside, till we stop by the side of a sleek black car with its headlights spilling gold across the pavement.

“There you go”

Hot tears slide down my cheeks as he shoves me inside the car and slams the door shut on my face.

I don’t even get a minute of bearings before the driver pulls off, catching me off guard as my head slams into the seat in front of me.

Hey!” I croak, voice stinging with pain from the pain shooting through my skull “Slow down—plea—”

But my pleas get muffled as a hand shoots out of the front seat, and before I can finish, a piece of cloth slams against my face.

Another hand presses down on my neck as I thrash in the back seat, helpless and unable to breathe.

But then I feel it. The sudden tiredness creeping into my bones, urging me to just—sleep.

And that’s exactly what happens next.

~~

“She’s so skinny—” a voice rasps somewhere in the background, thick with a heavy Italian accent.

I try to move, but it feels like I’m buried under a mountain of clothes.

Not the scratchy rags I’m used to…these feel soft.

It almost feels like I’m lying on a—

“Shhh. Just drop the tray on the—shit.”

My eyes flutter open.

A pale redhead stands next to me, holding a tray stacked with food. His eyes lock with mine, and he tenses.

I blink down at myself, and the reason for the softness finally registers.

I’m wrapped tightly in the middle of a massive black bed… in an equally large beautiful black room draped in thick red curtains that bathe everything in dim light.

“Um… Hello, Bella,” another heavily accented voice stammers from the left. I turn my head slowly, to see another guy, blond this time leaning against the door, palming something in his hand.

Is that a gun?

“You think she knows how to speak?” The redhead coughs as he sets the tray down on the nightstand.

The blonde one snorts and takes a step forward.

“Antonio confirmed she can speak,” he waves it off. “She just… doesn’t have a name yet. Poor thing.”

Poor thing??

He crouches in front of me, face all gentle now. “Are. You. Hungry?” he asks slowly.

Am I hungry? God, yes. But can I trust food from the people who bought me like livestock?

“Where am I?” I ask instead, scanning the room.

“Told you she could talk,” Blondie grins. “Antonio wouldn’t lie.”

“Who the hell is Antonia?” I demand.

They pause, exchanging a silent look as if deciding whether or not to tell me.

“The driver,” Blondie says finally. “Boss’s driver. He’s the one who brought you in. You don’t remember cause you were… unconscious.”

My mind reels as I remember the sickly smell of that rag against my face.

Fury flares through my chest. “What does your boss want with me?” I hiss. “Why did he bring me here?“

Why did he… purchase me?

Redhead shrugs. “We’re both wondering the same thing.”

Cold air grazes across my belly and I freeze, staring down at the duvet now puddled at my feet.

Instead of the flimsy gown I was clad in at the auction house, I’m now clad in clean white shorts and a crop top.

“It wasn’t us,” one of them mutters.

I spare them a glance as they raise their hands in surrender.

“I want to speak to your boss,” I say, ignoring the strange tingling crawling through my body at the thought of some… unknown person undressing me.

“Boss doesn’t come out at this time,” Blondie says.

“Why not?”

“He’s a busy man”

“Does he have a name?” I cut in.

That earns me a glare from him. Good. That’s how I feel too.

“Of course he does,” Redhead says proudly. “He’s Don Rafaele Grimaldi. The wealthiest man in all of Italy. First son of Don Gaetano Grimaldi, leader of—ouff—”

Redhead elbows him in the belly with a scowl.

“Leader of what?” I press.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with Bella,” Blondie cuts in.

“I’m Matteo. My brother here, Marco, has been assigned to take care of you. You’re at the La Corona Estate. Everything you need will be provided, but you’re not allowed to leave the house. We’ll leave you now to finish your breakfast. Good morning.”

Blondie—Matteo—grabs Marco by the arm, and just like that, they stalk out of the room, leaving me speechless.

Feeling confused and slightly agitated, I glance at the nightstand and my stomach growls.

Okay, fine. Just one bite.

Just one—

I ended up clearing the entire plate, surprised at how hungry I was.

After locating the wide, spotless, dark-themed bathroom, I bathe quickly and the events of yesterday skip through my head making me shudder.

One moment I was in a tight cage with smelly girls in their hormones, the next, I’m in a giant room with caretakers warning me against leaving the house.

There’s something weird about all of this and I’m not staying to find out.

I don’t care if their boss spent millions on me… there’s no way in hell I’m slaving away in a whorehouse because that’s the only reason why anyone would buy me.

I throw on a plain shirt, a black jumpsuit that I found on the bed after showering.

Slip into flats for the first time in my life, and grab the empty food tray just in case anyone sees me.

They’ll think I’m headed to the kitchen.

After checking that the door wasn’t locked, I made my way outside the room.

The first thing I noticed, was that every hallway I passed was draped in the same thick, blood-red curtains as the ones in the room, blocking out all sunlight.

Yep definitely creepy.

After getting lost at least ten times, I finally spotted sunlight peeking through the edge of a tall door near the staircase.

Please let that be the exit.

I make my way down, breath catching in my throat—

“Who the hell are you?”

A high-pitched voice startles me so badly I almost trip.

Shit.

Spinning around, I come face-to-face with a tall, gorgeous dark-haired woman in tight jeans standing by the banister, with a knife in her hand.

“—I’m—”

Shit.

“Why are you carrying that tray? Did you steal it from the kitchen?”

“No! I didn’t—”

Before I can react, she’s already storming toward me.

A startled yelp escapes as she drags me across the hallway.

“Let me go!”

“How the hell did you even get past the guards you filthy little—”

“Leave her alone, Petra,” a voice warns behind us.

But she doesn’t let go. If anything, her grip tightens, “She’s a thief, Marco. I caught her red-handed. Look at this!” She rips the tray from my hand.

“If I hadn’t caught her, she was already heading for the front door”

“She’s not a thief,” Marco sights. “She’s the Don’s pet.”

…I’m what?

The lady freezes. Then twists my arm behind my back, yanking hard enough to make me cry out.

“Her?” she shrieks. “He’s accepting stray dogs now?”

Ouch…

“Back off, Petra,” Marco warns. “She’s not what you think.”

He closes the distance between us in seconds, grabbing the knife and tray from her in one clean motion as she stumbles away from me.

“I can’t believe this. Rafaele wouldn’t choose… this… this skinny thing..”

The Petra lady all but yells, eyes blazing. But her insults don’t bother me. I’ve heard worse.

What bothers me though, is her wrist.

A deep cut, wide open, drips blood freely onto the carpet from the wound.

She doesn’t seem to notice as she drags that same bloody hand through her hair without flinching.

“I can’t accept this—“

“You hurt yourself again?” Marco asks her, voice rising with anger as he comes between us.

“He shouldn’t have kept me in the dark about this!” she screams.

“He doesn’t owe you an explanation and you know that.” He says softly, as if taming a lion.

But the cut on her wrist is what worries me.

If she’s a lunatic…

“He’ll regret throwing me away for this trash!” she screams. Then her eyes flick to me. “And you—you better watch your back.”

She lunges, but Marco grabs her before she can claw my eyes out.

“Enough! Let’s get your wrist checked.”

I watch as He hauls her onto his back, ignoring her thrashing as he strides up the stairs, leaving me behind to watch the bloody trail she left behind.

A strange flicker of pity curls in my chest instantly.

Did she hurt herself for attention? For a man who buys girls like pets?

If she thinks I’m here to take her Don then she’s mistaken.

My wrist hurts like hell as I glance toward the front door feeling thankful for the distraction and wondering if I can just bolt.

But then I remember… she mentioned guards.

“You were trying to leave, weren’t you?”

I freeze.

Blondie—Matteo is suddenly beside me, frowning.

“No, I wasn’t,” I lie quickly.

He gestures toward the dark staircase. “I saw you from up there.”

That’s impossible.

“Are you going to lock me up?” I whisper,

But he just… grabs my shoulders.

“Look… I don’t know what they did to you before. But no one here is going to hurt you.”

No one except Mrs lunatic who just threatened me… and your boss whom I’m dreading to see…But I don’t say that out loud.

“It makes sense you’d want to run. You’ve spent your whole life caged. I get it.”

No, you don’t. But I keep that to myself too.

Tears break past my lashes before I can stop them and I’m left in shock as arms wrap around my stiff frame, holding me as I tremble like a fool.

Part of me wants to pull away, another part wants to stay… I don’t even know anymore.

“I’m sorry about Petra,” he murmurs into my hair. “We should’ve warned you. She’s not usually so… violent.

Well. Actually, maybe she is.”

A wet, confused laugh slips out of me.

I guess I’ll have to steer clear of her if I’m planning on escaping before their Don comes back.

That night, I stayed in bed, wrist throbbing, heart heavier than ever. Matteo said no one would hurt me, but Petra already had.

There’s no telling how much worse their Boss will hurt me if I stay here.

And since there are guards outside…

Sparing a glance at the curtained window, a thought comes to mind.

It’s risky—I know that—but my stomach still churns when I reach the window and see how high it is.

From here, I can see the tops of thick dense trees. Like a forest straight out of a horror movie.

Running from Drevane had never even been an option.

But this? This is different. I have a window.

And I have one chance which in God’s hell I’m not letting it slip past me.

“Move, you… ahh—”

Grunting, I tumble onto my ass, dragging the curtain down with me.

I didn’t expect them to be this heavy.

Sparing a glance at the door to confirm the knob is tightly in place, I wipe the sweat that’d formed on my brow as I take one last look at the room.

Moonlight spills silver across the floor.

It’s beautiful. Too bad I can’t stay.

After tying the second part of the makeshift rope and securing it to the window frame, the duffel bag nearly breaks my back as I haul it toward the window.

Swinging a leg over the windowsill, I hold my breath, peeking down.

Yep, it’s definitely one hell of a drop.

“Didn’t think I’d catch you mid-escape.”

I freeze.

That voice—

Whipping around, the duffel bag slips from my fingers, crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.

“I’m away for a few hours…” His voice is low… so low it’s almost… dangerous,

“…and you’re already crawling out of my window?”

He steps forward—just barely—but the air shifts.

There’s barely any light but somehow, I still see him.

High cheekbones. Sharp jaw. Clean buzz cut and earrings gleaming faintly with his movements.

He’s dressed in black pants and a half-buttoned silk shirt, open enough to show the carved planes of his chest down to his belly.

And gods… I don’t think I've ever seen someone as… breathtaking as him.

“—You’re—you’re Don Rafaele” My voice cracks lamely.

He lights a cigar, and I watch him take a slow drag with his eyes trained on me.

I swallow.

Hard.

“I’m not—” clearing my throat, I continue. “I’m not trying to do anything.”

Is that so, piccolo?” he murmurs, voice dipping low—lower than I thought a voice could go.

He comes closer and I freeze at the sight of him— his eyes. They’re golden.

How’s that even possible…

“You were just… redecorating?” He purrs, gaze dropping to the rope tied to the window.

“I—It’s not what it looks like—”

“My little nameless pet wants out of her cage is what it looks like to me.”

He breathes. And with every step he takes, the room shrinks.

My back hits the window frame and I feel the night air behind me, just as the moonlight crawls over him—up his legs, across his shirt, casting shadows along his stomach, highlighting the muscles underneath.

The scent of smoke, and something darkly masculine hits me as he braces both arms on the windowsill….caging me in.

“And they said you were tame,” There’s no smile on his lips, only a tick of his jaw.

I open my mouth to speak, but his hands move almost instantly and the next thing, they’re wrapped around my waist in an iron grip just as I feel my feet lifting off the ground.

“Wait—no! Don’t!”

“If you want out so badly… let’s test your chances, piccolo.”

What does he…

One second, I’m staring into golden eyes that glow like fire in the dark— And the next… I’m falling.

A scream of utter terror tears from my throat as cold air claws at my face. The world flips in my vision.

He fucking pushed me.

Instinct kicks in, and I lunge for the rope,

But the knot— I realized too late. Isn’t fucking tied.

Oh God—

I’m going to die.