4. The auction

Brielle Clarke


Everyone let out a scream at the unexpected shot, including me.

"Shut the fuck up." The man snapped, holding the gun pointed at us. "If I hear a sound from any of you, you're next."

The fear was palpable in the room, but we all tried to be as quiet as possible. I almost let out a whimper but I covered my mouth. No matter how bad my life was about to get, I was not looking forward to death.

Satisfied by our compliance, he breathed out. "Number six."

Number six was visibly shaking but she tried to keep a bold facade as she walked toward the guard.

As soon they left, there were whispers all over the room and my eyes drifted to the dead woman every few seconds, reminding myself that it could have been me.

I had to pull myself together. It was not the end of the world. I was only twenty-two. I wouldn't be in their shackles forever. I had a long way to go.

Besides, how bad could it be?

I cringed internally at the question. It could get very bad very quickly. I knew that.


The woman next to me strode confidently to the exit of the room. Just like me, she had accepted her fate. She was going to make the most of it.


Breathing in deeply, I willed myself to forget about the main reason I was here; my family had deemed me useless to them so my dad sold me off by pretending to want to meet with him.

It was very low of him but I wasn't too surprised. I would've preferred it if he just married me off to one of these other mafia families.

I shook off my thoughts and walked to him. He took hold of my arm and dragged me to the stage. I bit my lip, holding back a yelp at how tightly his fingers were clenching my arm.

I blinked when he left me there.

There were a lot of men in the crowd. It irritated me how many men were willing to buy a girl. This was human trafficking. This was slave trade. It was alarming how many people didn't have morals anymore.

"This is our twenty-seventh girl, Brielle Clarke." The announcer spoke up. So they knew my name after all. Murmurs broke out at my name and I dropped my head, knowing they were all surprised to find me there.

My father was well known so they would probably be wondering what the daughter of a don was doing in a place like this.

"Yes, yes. She is the youngest daughter of Edward Clarke. She is a virgin, never been touched." Red dusted my cheeks. Why were they putting that kind of information out there? "She's a rare one and we're starting at a hundred thousand."

I let out a quiet gasp. No way anyone was going to spend that much amount to buy a woman.

"One fifty thousand!" A deep voice proved me wrong. I didn't dare look up to see who was speaking.

"Two hundred thousand!"

They kept increasing the prices, trying to outbid each other while I could only pray I didn't end up with a horrible person. Then again, if they were at such an auction, they were already horrible.

"Going for seven hundred thousand?" The announcer asked when it seemed like they had stopped bidding. "Going?"

"One million!"

This time, my gasp was loud but nobody cared about me. I raised my gaze, settling on the man whose hand was still raised. I shivered visibly. He was older than my father. What could he possibly want with me?

"Going for one million?"

The men looked at themselves, unfortunately realizing that it was not worth it to go above that amount. I was hoping someone younger would outbid the old man.

"Sold for one million to Mr. Vasiliev!"

Tears formed in my eyes but I was tired of crying. I was tired of everything.

I was sent back into the dressing room and I stayed there with the other girls until they had successfully auctioned all fifty of us. Some men bought more than two women, making me wonder what they wanted.

Was it just sex? Or did they have another reason?

When the auction was finally over, we were distributed to our various owners.

"This is yours, Mr. Vasiliev." A random guard told him. The old man bit his lip lustfully as he looked at me. "Luckily for you, she doesn't cause much trouble."

"She's sexy."

"Yes. She has an appeal even without the endowments."

My tongue poked the inside of my cheek as I stood there quietly. "Can I have her delivered to my house next week?"

"Of course, sir. As soon as we confirm your deposit, we'll bring her to you."

Mr. Vasiliev nodded happily. "Good. It's always nice doing business with you Italians. You're not as bad as people say you are."

I almost snorted. I guess everyone had their own definitions of bad.

The old man squeezed my shoulder before he left the premises and I let out a breath of relief. I had a few more days before he would use me how he liked.

But that only meant staying with the Italians for those few more days.

They upgraded my prison to a bedroom with a bed and toilet because I now had an owner and my owner wanted the best for me. However, I was still not allowed to leave the room.

I was locked in with no way of going out — trust me, I tried. The only time the door was opened was when a man was bringing in my meal.

I preferred it to the cold ground I had been sleeping in prior to that.

I had hoped I would have more time to myself but before I knew it, the time for me to leave came. They dressed me in a tiny short dress that made me uncomfortable. Unfortunately, I could not voice out my discomfort.

"Be good." The Italian boss warned me. "If I hear one complaint from your master, I'll punish you myself. I promise you that."

I shivered, knowing what he meant by punishing me. I decided to be on my best behavior so I would never get to meet this man again.

Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
Juicy Miss 🥰
Either her father isn't her real father, or her mother isn't her mother. Because damn!!!

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