Not For Sale

‎Ethan’s face stayed strong, cold, and straight. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t say anything. Then suddenly, he smiled. It was faint, almost careless, like none of it mattered to him.

‎“I’m not interested,” he said calmly, his voice steady. “Whatever happened to my mother is in the past. I have no reason to search for her killer.”

‎The words made my chest tighten. I stared at him, studying his face, and I knew he was hiding something. No one hears a truth like that and dismisses it so easily. Darius looked furious at first, his eyes dark with anger, but as Ethan spoke, I saw his tension ease. His jaw relaxed, and the storm in his expression slowly faded.

‎Darius walked closer to the old slave and leaned down to her ear. He whispered something I couldn’t hear. Ethan’s eyes never left them. Neither did mine. Whatever Darius said seemed to drain her completely. She went quiet, her body sagging as if the strength had been pulled from her.

‎Darius straightened and signaled to the guards. They pushed her into the boot and shut it firmly. Then he turned away like nothing had happened.

‎“Shall we?” he asked casually, already walking toward the car.

‎I followed behind them, my mind restless, my curiosity burning, knowing that something important had just been buried alive along with her.

‎As we approached the car, I glanced at Ethan. He walked ahead, calm and unreadable. When our eyes met briefly, I searched for some pity, guilt, even just recognition of what I’d lost. But there was nothing. I don’t know why, but I’d thought he might be different.

‎“Put on your seatbelts,” Darius said flatly, settling into the front passenger seat.

‎I slid into the back, unsure where to place myself. Ethan joined me. He leaned over suddenly, and my breath hitched. His body was close , too close. His chest brushed mine, his thigh pressing firmly against me as he reached for my seatbelt.

‎The chill of his skin seeped through my dress, trailing goosebumps down my arms. 

‎It was strange.

‎He was cold, yet something about his nearness felt warm. Intimate.

‎As a slave, I never expected tenderness. But his fingers didn’t rush. They lingered, slow and deliberate, as he buckled the seatbelt for me. 

‎His breath was cool, minty. It touched my neck like a secret.  

‎"There," He whispered low, too soft to catch but his voice curled around my spine.  

‎Our eyes locked. His gaze didn’t waver. There was something there intensity, heat. It made my nipple tighten beneath the thin fabric of my dress.

‎Desire was the last thing I wanted to feel. 

‎The driver started the engine and began moving slowly out of the estate.  

‎Ethan leaned quietly into his seat, his movement calm and composed melting something soft in my chest.

‎"Selene," Darius called with a smile. His voice had the familiar tone people use just before an introduction. You could tell from his look.

‎"This is Ethan, my first son. He’s twenty-three," Darius said proudly, shooting a quick glance at me as if to see how I’d react to the information.

‎"Ooh. Ethan." I stretched out my hand politely for a handshake.  

‎“It’s nice to know you,” I added with a small smile.

‎Ethan chuckled softly. He took a brief glance at my hand... then ignored it. On purpose.  

‎But he smiled, and I knew he did it in that cold, deliberate way of his.  

‎“You already know me, Selene,” he replied, his voice even and unreadable.

‎I inhaled deeply, clutching the sting to my heart. Slowly, I pulled my hand back to its place on my lap.

‎Not long after, we passed a lonely route shrouded in thick bushes. Mountains surrounded the path, winding like something out of an old tale.

‎We arrived at the sacred hall, a forgotten temple.

‎A breeze swept through, brushing my hair lightly as we got down. My eyes roamed around the place.

‎Exotic cars lined both sides of the building. It was quiet. Still.  

‎Everywhere felt… strange.

‎“Creepy indeed,” I muttered, the air raising the hair on my arms as old memories surfaced. I remembered how a lot of our kind has been buried for a safer hunt. Including my family.

‎Three guards in black fully armed approached us, bowing their heads.

‎“ Mr Light welcome,” one of them said.

‎They smiled at Ethan. It was clear they knew each other.  

‎But Ethan didn’t smile back. He looked away, jaw clenched, and walked inside without a word.

‎“Check the boot,” Darius ordered, striding into the hall.

‎I followed quickly behind them, trying to steady my breath.

‎My hands began to tremble. Then my legs.  

‎My heart pounded wildly as I stepped into the Sacred Hall.

‎I looked around gazing at the towering walls.  

‎They were covered in eerie paintings.  

‎Images of demons, angels, and unknown creatures danced across the surfaces in strange, dark patterns.

‎Each wall told a story... and none of them were peaceful.

‎Then my eyes locked on the altar.

‎A statue stood tall, its figure frozen in motion.  

‎It held a gleaming sword raised high mid-swing as though striking a wolf.

‎My stomach twisted.

‎Immediately, I shifted my gaze and spotted others in the hall. They looked like hunters.

‎Realization dawned. My breath hitched.  

‎I grew more nervous, trying to regulate my breathing.

‎Suddenly, Ethan’s cold hand wrapped around mine.  

‎Our eyes met instantly, his icy blue gaze piercing straight through me.

‎He pulled me closer, his cool palm enveloping my trembling fingers, the chill of his touch sweeping over my skin.

‎“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.

‎My heart pounded, nipples tightening beneath my shirt.  

‎I was caught completely lost in the unexpected tenderness of his touch.

‎I sat beside him, placing my hands gently on my lap, trying to calm the storm inside me.

‎Then came a sharp voice.

‎“Darius,” a man said. The head of the Brooklyn family.

‎He stared at me directly, eyes sharp with arrogance.  

‎“Why don’t you let me have a little night with your slave? You can have 15% of the treasures I’ve acquired,” he added, licking his upper lip.

‎My grip tightened on my seat.  

‎Anger rose inside me like fire licking up my chest.

‎'How dare he?' I thought, keeping my rage buried behind a cold stare.

‎The head of the Brooklyn family suddenly burst into laughter, as if his insult had been a joke.

‎It wasn’t funny. Not at all.  

‎His laughter was so vile, so condescending, that it made me roll my eyes in silent rage.

‎

‎“Fifteen percent?” he scoffed.  

‎“You shouldn’t be haggling over a ring. Fifteen percent for a beautiful damsel like her?”  

‎He added mockingly, clearly trying to make jest of the head of the Brooklyn family.

‎“Is fifteen percent too big?” the Brooklyn head asked, already sounding irritated.

‎“Thirty percent,” the head of the Lester family scoffed again. “Thirty percent for you, my queen,” he added with a smirk, raising his shoulder arrogantly.

‎Darius chuckled, his eyes locked on me.  

‎I already knew what that look meant.

‎“As you all know the rules,” Darius said sharply, “the highest bidder takes her… for just a night.”

‎His eyes briefly darted away from mine.

‎“She cannot be priced!”  

‎Ethan’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension, filled with rage.

‎He stood up quickly, fists clenched.

‎I was stunned.

‎“Why would he stand for me?” I wondered, staring up at him in confusion.

‎My heart began to race, not knowing what was about to happen next.

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