Chapter 3

Jax

“The auction is about to start,” I heard someone say. 

I wasn't sure who said the words but it sounded nothing like the Devil’s voice. 

I swallowed hard, my hands and feet weak from fighting air. Not one punch or kick in the last thirty minutes has touched anyone. 

My head continued throbbing painfully.

I took a deep breath, hoping it would soothe the ache but it did nothing to my predicament. 

“Do you think he'll kill us?” a feminine voice asked. I knew I was in here with someone but I had no idea who it was. 

I haven't seen where I am since I got blindfolded but my senses and instincts tell me I've been abducted and kept in a warehouse. 

“Can you hear me?” She asked again. 

“Yes.” 

“Do you think he'll kill us?”

The certainty of my predicament should make me afraid..but somehow, it was filling me with more morale than it should. 

“I’ll kill him before he dares to touch me,” I whined and suddenly hoarse laughter filled the air. 

“This bitch here got some nerves.” 

There was someone else in here and it still wasn't the Devil. 

The men exchanged more muffled words and suddenly, one was on a call. 

He was reporting me. 

“Add that to her description. These men may want something feisty,” his voice finally came on but it was through a call. 

I wriggled, trying to get the rope off my hands. “Get this thing off me!” I yelled. “Get your fucking men to get me out of this damn place.”

I heard movements and soon, someone squatted beside me until I could hear the Devil’s voice clearly. 

“He’ll do no such thing.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Because I have debts to collect. Now, Harren, get them ready. The auction starts at fifteen.”

“He doesn't want us,” the other woman said in a sob. “He's going to auction us to the highest bidder and if no one wants us, he’ll kill us. We're of no use to him.”

The realization hit me.

He never wanted marriage. Is this what Nora would have been put through?

“I’m going to recite your auction lines to you and you have to memorize them. When your name is mentioned and the mic is handed to you, you say the words.”

“To you, Roshinika,” he said lifting my chin. “You'll say— I'm your slut, daddy. Use me.”

His firm grip on my chin was even harder, forcing me to whine. 

“Repeat after me!”

I nodded, saying the words in disgust. 

“Good.”

“You,” he said turning to the other woman. “You’ll say, how about I push you on that couch and ride the fuck out of you.” he paused. “There should be assertiveness. This one is for the pussies who like the women to be in charge.”

He continued talking but I could barely hear anything else. I was slowly dozing and I knew it wasn't normal. 

I've been given something. 

By the time I woke up, I was seated and in front of a mirror. 

I could barely recognize myself. My blonde hair had been dyed black, and my face highlighted with contour and concealer to give me a sharp look.

My hair was in rollers— the type you have when you want to achieve bouncy curls. 

This is not me. 

I have natural straight hair and my skin doesn't look this tanned. 

I found my voice, and suddenly turned to the woman who was using all those brushes on my face. 

“Please help me… help me get out of here.”

She ignored me.

“Are you working for him? He's a beast! You shouldn't do this…”

“What if I were your sister?” I asked her. “Would you let me go out there?”

“Yes.”

That was the last thing I remember before being taken out in a dress that was made for sluts. 

Don't get me wrong; I'm not a saint but I have also never been in a dress like this.

I have never looked like this in all my twenty-two years of living. 

My lines echoed in my head as we approached the velvet curtains that framed the stage like a secret waiting to be told.

Two spotlights carved a path through the darkness and suddenly a man appeared.

“You're all welcome to The Seal Night and the first person on the list is Emilia Rochester!” 

The applause came on and she was dragged to the stage. 

“Get your hands off me,” she said in a whisper and I recognised the voice. She was the one with me before I suddenly dozed off.

She took the mic, her eyes pleading but gradually accepting her fate. “What if I… what if I push you and ride the fuck out of you?” she stammered. 

She missed her line but the thirsty men in the crowd didn't mind. 

“Ten thousand dollars!”

“Twelve thousand dollars!” another man echoed. 

The MC nodded. “Twelve thousand dollars… going? Go—”

“Fifteen thousand dollars!” 

“Is there anyone else?” the MC asked and then laughed. “There it is! The highest bidder.”

Another round of applause followed but I stood right there, trying to understand what was going to happen after now. 

“Next, we have Jaxen DeLuca!!”

At the sound of my name, a lump formed in my throat and heat coursed through me. 

I was given the mic and I took it, looking at the old men all seated with cigars in their mouths. “Go to hell.”

The room heightened with murmurs but he quickly managed it. ”She's feisty!” he hollered. “Who wants her?”

“The bitch is pretty,” an old Asian man said. “Twenty thousand dollars.”

My throat twisted. 

“Twenty thousand dollars!” The MC whined. “Is anyone going to beat that?”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars!” another Asian man waved. “I want her sucking my cock tonight.”

Disgusted at the words being thrown about, I remained where I was. If I were given a chance to say another word, I'd tell him to suck his cock himself. 

“Twenty-five thousand dollars!” he repeated. “That should be—”

“One hundred thousand dollars.”

The voice wasn't high pitched like the rest of the men. It was low, but laced with power. 

“One hundred thousand dollars?” The MC hollered. Even he was shocked. 

Who the hell is that?

Just as I turned, my eyes met his. The Devil.