The bidding

IRIS

I woke up with a sharp pain twisting through my side. I had slept off while cleaning a suite. My chest felt heavy, my legs weak, and for a moment, I couldn’t remember why I was still fighting through this illness that had already taken so much from me. The world spun slightly as I got up from the floor, forcing myself to stand. One wrong step, and I would’ve collapsed.

I clutched the wall, taking a shaky breath. “Not today,” I muttered to myself. “Not now.”

This was my life. Waking up, pushing through the pain, working long hours at one of New York’s most expensive hotels just to keep food on the table for my dad. I’d barely recovered from yesterday’s shift, but there was no choice. There never was.

I had to finish my shift. The gala had begun already and there was still so much left to do. I couldn't afford to get fired. I walked out of the room with my cart, ready to take more supplies to finish up when a hand clamped hard around my arm.

Before I could react, I was yanked forward. My feet stumbled, and my body hit the wall as I tried to regain balance. I barely had time to scream before I was dragged into the nearby elevator. The doors slid shut with a soft ding.

My heart pounded in my chest. “Let go of me!” I snapped, my voice sharper than I expected. My fingers dug into his wrist, trying to pull free, but he didn’t budge.

“Relax” he said casually, like dragging a stranger into an elevator was completely normal.

I looked up at him properly. He was older, probably mid-thirties, dressed in a suit that looked far too expensive for someone like me to even glance at twice. This man either had power or he was dangerous.

“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded. “And why are you doing this?”

Unbothered by my yelling, he said

“I need you to be my plus one for the gala.”

I blinked. For a second, I thought he was joking. Then I realized he wasn’t.“You dragged me in here for that?” I asked, disbelief sharp in my voice. “You couldn’t just… ask?”

“I did ask,” he said. His gaze didn’t waver.

“No, you didn’t,” I replied, my chest tightening..

“I’m asking now,” he said simply.

“If you refuse,” he said quietly, “one call, and you lose your job.” My stomach flipped. I wanted to scream that he was bluffing, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t.

“This is insane,” I muttered.

“Maybe,” he said. “But it’s happening.”

The elevator stopped with a soft ding. The doors slid open. He let go of my arm and stepped aside. I hesitated, my sickness making it hard to even think straight. But I knew one thing: I needed this job. I needed the money. And whatever game he was playing, I couldn’t afford to lose.

“Fine,” I whispered. “I’ll do it.”

 “Good.”

“This is just for tonight,” I added quickly, my voice firmer. “After that, I’m done.”

“Of course,” he replied.

We stepped into the gala together. The noise hit me like a wave: music, laughter, glasses clinking. My weak legs nearly buckled as I tried my best to stay calm.

His hand brushed lightly against my back as we walked in. I stiffened. I felt exposed, my sickness making every step feel heavier.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, walking away. I stayed in one place for a few minutes, taking it all in.

Then I moved slowly, trying to keep out of the spotlight. That’s when I saw him.

An old man, leaning slightly, with a creepy smile and the unmistakable smell of alcohol surrounding him.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he slurred, stepping closer.

My chest tightened. I tried to back away, but he grabbed my arm.

“I’ll pay you,” he said, his grin wide and unsettling.

My chest tightened as I tried to back away but then he grabbed my hand. “I'm not for sale,” I snapped, pulling free. I started walking away. I didn't stop till I was out of the gala and out I. The hallway. My breathing was uneven, my heart pounding.

“What is wrong with people?” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. I kept walking down the hall when I heard voices coming from a room up ahead. That wasn't normal for a night like this.

I stepped closer. Then a scream cut through the air, a man’s scream, sharp and loud.

Instinctively, I reached for the door. I opened it, and my world tilted.

Three men were standing over another man lying in a pool of blood. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing. He was dead.

“Oh shit,” I whispered, my legs threatening to give out.

Panic surged. I ran, heart hammering, until I found a dark room. I slipped inside, shutting the door behind me and pressing myself against the wall. I tried to be quiet, to make myself small, but my hands shook uncontrollably.

Then I hit something.

It wobbled and fell to the floor with a deafening crash.

“No, no, no” I muttered, panic taking over.

Footsteps approached, faster this time. The door burst open.

Two men appeared, their eyes scanning the room. They saw the fallen object. They saw me.

Before I could react, one of them grabbed me, pressing a chemical-soaked cloth over my nose.

My vision blurred. My legs gave way beneath me.

And then I blacked out.

I didn’t know how much time had passed. Minutes or hours, it all felt the same. When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing I felt was cold metal pressed against my skin. My head throbbed badly and my mouth tasted strange, like chemicals and iron mixed together. I blinked slowly, trying to focus, but everything around me was blurry.

Voices filled the air. At first they were just noise, then they became clearer.

“Fifty thousand.”

“Seventy thousand.”

“One hundred thousand.”

My brows scrunched as I tried to sit up. Pain shot through my body and I winced, gripping the bars in front of me.

Bars.

My heart skipped.

I forced my eyes open wider until my vision cleared just enough to understand what I was seeing. A cage… I was in a cage.

And I wasn’t alone.

People stood around me. Men and women dressed perfectly, like they had just stepped out of a magazine. Their eyes were fixed on me, watching like I was something on display.

Not one of them looked confused. Not one of them looked concerned.

They were just watching.

My chest tightened as the realization slowly settled in.

“No…” I whispered.

“Two hundred thousand.”

“Three hundred thousand.”

My fingers tightened around the bars.

They weren’t bidding on something.

They were bidding on me.

Panic hit me all at once.

“No! Stop!” I shouted, shaking the bars. “Let me out! Please!”

No one moved. No one said anything. If anything, some of them leaned forward with more interest, like this was entertainment.

Tears burned my eyes as my breathing became uneven. My mind scrambled, trying to make sense of everything.

This wasn’t a nightmare.

This was real.

“One million.”

The number hit me hard. My stomach twisted.

“How can people be like this…” I whispered.

I looked around desperately, hoping someone would stop this. Anyone at all.

Then I saw him. The same old man. His hand slowly lifted.

My chest tightened in fear.

“One million, five hundred thousand,” he said casually.

“No” I breathed, shaking my head. “No, no, no…”

I took a step back from the bars like that could save me.

Not him. Anyone but him please.

Silence fell over the room for a moment.

Then “Three million.”

The voice cut through everything.

Whispers spread immediately as p

eople turned to look. My heart pounded as I searched for the source of the voice.

And then I saw him.

Tristan Ross.