Eleanor's POV
I didn’t go down without a fight. I kicked and screamed, struggling against the chains restraining my wrists as Vincent’s dogs dragged me down the shadowy hallway. The iron cuffs bruised my skin, the chains twisting with each step.
But that didn’t matter. They had taken everything from me. They would not break my spirit. Whatever lay ahead, they would pay for their actions, they would surely pay.
******
The dark and shabby underground chamber was filled with the scent of cigars and pricey cologne. Heavily furnished, with expensive curtains and caged chandeliers casting sinister shadows over the faces of influential men gathered to bid.
I had heard rumors of such place before, a place where humans are being sold. Where women were treated as mere objects, like pieces of trash.
Where predators in tailored suits drink expensive whiskey while bargaining on human lives. At the heart of it all stood Vincent Moreau, that bastard, the man who destroyed me.
He remained beside me, calm and collected, as though he was not auctioning off a human being like he hadn’t allowed his men to disgrace me before putting me onto this platform.
"This one," Vincent declared, his tone smooth and steady. "A rare gem. Once the cherished wife of Damian Blackwood." A murmur spread through the crowd.
Some men leaned in, curiosity shown on their faces. Others smirked, casually sipping their drinks, waiting for a more enticing offer from him.
Vincent grinned. "She’s been… well-conditioned. But," he turned to me, holding my chin with his fingers, "she’s got fire in her. Unbroken. That makes her invaluable." I jerked my face away, glaring at him. "Burn in hell."
Laughter rippled through the audience. Vincent merely smiled. "Now, let the bidding commence."
And then I saw him. In the dim corner of the room, partially filled in darkness. He radiated power. I sensed it from the way others shifted uneasily when his piercing blue gaze swept over them. His face was unreadable, yet there was a strong aura about him.
Then our eyes locked into each other. Recognition flickered across his features. His gaze swept over the scars on my arms, the nearly healed wounds.
And at that moment, I understood. He had witnessed suffering like mine before. Because he had survived the same torment.
*****
"Five million," a voice called out. "Seven," another quickly replied.
Vincent leaned back, reveling in the spectacle. "Gentlemen, let's not dilly-dally. Who among you is eager to possess something truly priceless as this?"
"Ten million." The room fell silent and void of noise.
That voice belonged to the man in the shadows. All eyes turned toward him, and for the first time, Vincent’s confident smile showed.
I watched, my heart racing unsteadily.
"Mr. Kieran Lancaster," Vincent responded cautiously, "you’ve caught me off guard." That name rang a bell.
Kieran Lancaster the dangerous billionaire who had built a big empire from scratch. Ruthless, feared, untouchable.
A phantom in the world of business. And now, the man who had just bought me. Vincent’s smirk faded, tension creeping into his demeanor. "Going once, going twice"
"No one will challenge me?" Kieran's tone was steady, yet an undercurrent of authority flowed through, he was indeed powerful and really feared.
Silence.
The air was filled with anticipation. "Sold," Vincent finally announced, but his amusement had vanished. Something had changed. And Vincent was clearly not pleased.
The instant they unshackled me, I lashed out. I moved and kicked one of Vincent’s guards, sending him staggering backward. Another seized me, but I elbowed him hard in the ribs and in the mouth, forcing him to gasp for breath.
I bolted and twisted. Or at least I tried to fight those bastards, those people who don't have human feelings.
Before I could reach the exit, a powerful arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me back.
I screamed, kicking and thrashing, my nails digging into flesh.
"Let me go!"
"You belong to me now." The voice was deep and scary.
Not Vincent. The buyer. Kieran Lancaster. I fought fiercely. "I am not yours! I am not an object!"
"Then behave like it," he said, tightening his grip. "And I may allow you to live." Before I could reply, he carried me on his shoulder as if I weighed nothing.
I shouted curses, kicking wildly as he carried me past Vincent and the grinning vultures who had observed the auction.
I refused to stop fighting. Not now. Not ever.
****
The car ride was filled with tension. I sat in the backseat, my wrists tied again, my body paining from the struggle. Kieran Lancaster faced me across the seat, just observing me like it was an experiment to be tested. I wanted to break the silence and demand explanations, but I wouldn’t show weakness.
So I glared instead. He smirked. "You have quite a temper." I chose silence. "You’ll need to calm down if you want to survive."
A sharp laugh escaped me. "Why would I care about survival, huh?" His expression stayed unreadable, unmoved. "You should."
"Why?" I shot back. "You paid ten million for me. What are you after? A slave? A plaything? Go ahead and try. I dare you, bastard."
His eyes darkened. "You think I need to purchase women?"
I clenched my jaw. Then, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his calm voice concealed a dangerous edge.
"I don't desire your body, Eleanor Sinclair." My stomach twisted. He knew my real name.
Not the broken woman Vincent had attempted to market. I masked my surprise with indifference. "Then what do you want?"
He shook his head slightly. "I want a wife." Silence fell. I stared at him, expecting a punch line.
When none materialized, I laughed deliberately. "You’re delusional, dreaming." His lips curled into a faint smile. "Maybe." I narrowed my eyes. "Why me?"
His gaze pierced mine, unfazed. "Because I understand your desires." He replied slightly. "Revenge."
Chills ran down my body and soul. Kieran’s voice was smooth yet firm and strong. "You want to destroy Damian Blackwood. You yearn to destroy Vincent Moreau." His fingers drummed on the armrest. "And I can provide you with the means to do it."
I fought to maintain my blank expression, but my heart raced. He knew. Somehow, he knew.
Kieran assessed me before delivering the final blow.
"Play the role of my wife for one year, and I’ll help you take them both down." Air caught in my throat. My fists clenched so hard.
Many days of clawing my way back from hell. Days driven solely by revenge. And now, a man I hardly knew was offering me the one thing I had yearned for.
An opportunity to end them. But at what price? I met Kieran Lancaster’s cold, calculating gaze.
And for the first time since being thrust into this nightmare, I wasn't sure if I had escaped one monster…Only to walk directly into the arms of another….
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I took a few seconds to regain my composure, and breathe. No doubt, I was terrified to my bones about facing her. I did not know what to say or how to admit that I now knew the truth about five years ago. I did not know how to apologise, or the words to use, or how best to say that I regretted having her leave. Thinking of what to say felt too much, and I had somehow hoped that she would put off trying to talk to me so that the ugly moment would be postponed, until a better time. I didn't expect that it would be now! "You should have gone with the rest," I said, staring at my feet and turning with my back to her again. "Yes. I should." She replied. Still, there was no sound to show that she had walked away, no departing footsteps, so I turned again and found her there, still waiting. She, too, was not looking at me, but staring at something on the ground, something invisible, something away from me and my profile. Seeing her still there did something to me.
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I had lived the last five years in misery. Hearing this woman's confession made me even more miserable. I had lost the woman who loved me, and who I had unknowingly loved. I had become as crushed as my father when he did not end up with the woman he loved, with Vanilla Black. I had tried hard to escape that fate but it was mine, now. I had been lied to and betrayed by the man I trusted the most. And I did not consider it overreaching, but I did think I could fix everything in one sweep. I would give this woman her son back, even though I would never know why she had known all that and still gone ahead to have a son with him. I would make Vincent pay for his lies and betrayal. And Eleanor... I did not know what I would do with Eleanor. Take her back, a thought came to my head, but I shook it off. Now, in hindsight, I know I had only been a burden to her, an anchor that kept her grounded. Maybe the truest form of my love for her would be to let her go. So I
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD The only thing constant is change. And I found out too late that I made the same mistake as my father, that I loved Eleanor Sinclair the same way he loved Vanilla Black. I always believed that I did not love her and my treatment of her convinced me that she was simply a woman I put up with, one I was tolerating. Until I woke up and she wasn't there anymore. Hell… seeing those photos hurt because I loved her. I should have known I loved her when I started to try to legalise my business as she wished I would for our children, when I cared less about the women I had been sleeping with before her. I should have known it when it broke me each time I hit her, and I should have run, nipping it in the bud before anything. But I let it grow until kicking her out sent my life down a downward spiral. I woke up and felt alone in my bed, even when I had someone in it. I smelt her even when she wasn't there. And when I tried to look for her, I did not find her. And when I di
ELEANOR SINCLAIR Marcus looked as though I was mad. "Isn't that the one man you should be avoiding?" He asked. "Why should I avoid him?" "He kicked you out of his life five years ago, and has probably swallowed another of Vincent's lies for all we know." "You do not know Damian as much as I know him," Eleanor said, her eyes glazing over. "To you both, he is the force in Vieuti, the man with the power to do and undo. To me, he is the only man I ever loved. He is many things, but a fool is not one of them. And he watched us run away. Believe me when I say that if Damian wanted us, he would have us in a heartbeat." "I'm not sure about this," Marcus countered, the doubt evident in his voice. "I am, and deep down, Helen-Nora knows it too. Damian saved us from Vincent the first time, and would probably be angry and hurt that Helen-Nora and I ran away from him. Now, we will return to him, and he will help us find Ailean again." Helen-Nora only looked distraught, and I knew she did n
ELEANOR SINCLAIR Once again, we got away. Forced to find another hotel, we were soon back where we started as Helen-Nora's tears filled the quiet hotel room, each struggle to draw breath a painful testament to her misery. We stood watching her, our hearts split between concern and growing uncertainty over how much of continuing to take her along with us was a good idea. The traumatic kidnap of her son had done enough to stripp away the defenses of the woman they knew. "My son. my lovely boy." she muttered to herself, her voice hoarse. "He's dead, and it's all my fault. All of it." I, who was still confused over all that had happened, reached out to offer what comfort I could, but Marcus signalled me with a raised hand, a warning glint in his eyes. He would later tell me that instinct could feel a confession over what happened hovering on the brink of her grief. "Helen-Nora," Marcus told her, his voice firm but not unkind, "we know you're in pain. But we have to know what's happ
VICTOR MOREAU This was my chance, however. The fleeting loss of his focus, the distraction-it was a vanishing moment of opportunity, but an opportunity nonetheless. Even while they were restraining me, it did not drain me as much as did the weight of what had happened, building a desperation that was going to consume me. My body ached, my head throbbed, and the knowledge that I'd been outsmarted by people I'd assumed were powerless were bitter pills to swallow. But seeing Helen-Nora, Eleanor, and Marcus drive off into the night had kindled a spark of triumph at Damian's defeat. It was a dirty, spontaneous victory, one that was going to buy me some much needed time, time that showed however brief. They dragged me deeper into the labyrinth of the fishery, along slicker, more vacated corridors. The stench of fish guts and cold, stagnant water was overwhelming. The gun shoved into my back to prevent me from running felt like hot scald, burning into my skin. My mind, though dazed an