CHAPTER TWO

RICHARD:

In the dark realm auction, I sat in the audience with my father when my gaze fell on the six beautiful women displayed on the stage. Yet, I recognized her eyes—the same blue eyes of the pretty young woman Isabella brought to my 24th birthday party at my clubhouse. How was this possible?

I had only come to the auction because my father wanted me to observe the bidding tonight.

But when I saw those pretty blue eyes, I couldn’t look away.

I sensed her innocence and felt an urge to protect her.

"Richard, do you wish to buy any of the women tonight? You could take one as a birthday gift," my father, Mr. Wesley Henshaw, said.

"Dad…" I grumbled, looking at the women lined up on the stage to be sold.

None of them caught my eye except Angela.

I waited for her turn to be auctioned.

I knew she was mine the moment I saw her. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and a pretty oval face.

"Richard," my father called again, snapping me out of my trance.

"Dad, I’ll decide if I see someone who interests me," I mumbled. Dressed in a black suit, I sat beside my father in the auction room.

After leaving my birthday party at the club, I had come here to see how the auction unfolded.

It wasn’t that I was unaware of my father’s dealings for money and entertainment, but none of it had ever drawn me in.

I wanted something different—something to define my own style, uniqueness, and taste.

When the host announced Angela, my heartbeat quickened as I watched many bidders compete for her.

She wore the same blue dress she’d worn to my birthday party, and it made me wonder: how did she get here?

Did Isabella put her own sister up for sale?

Was Angela kidnapped?

There was no way Angela would come here willingly. She had been sold against her will—but who brought her?

Many mafia lords, young and old, desired to buy Angela. Her skin glowed more than the other women on stage.

Her innocence was compelling, and so many of those men wanted a taste.

I kept my composure as the bidding started at one million dollars.

She was worth more than gold.

"One million dollars!" The bidding began, rising steadily until it reached twenty million.

I looked at Angela and raised my bid: fifty million dollars.

The hall fell silent. My father, Mr. Wesley Henshaw, was the most feared mafia lord in Top Hills City.

"Fifty million dollars, going once? Fifty million, anyone else?" the host asked, scanning the dark room where only the stage was lit.

"Sold!" the host announced, and my father looked at me proudly.

"Congratulations, Richard. You won. Welcome to the dark realm. You’ll need to brand her as yours so others know not to touch her," my father said, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he sat beside me.

"I will," I replied.

After leaving the auction room to complete Angela’s payment, I was certain she didn’t know who had bought her.

She had passed out from shock, her hands and legs tied, her lips taped shut.

"Take her to my car. She’s coming home with me," I said.

"Richard, are you sure? She should be taken to the harem for training. She’s inexperienced," my father said, standing beside me in the parking lot after we finalized the payment.

"I’ll train her myself. Don’t worry about that, father," I said, my voice cold as I avoided looking back at him.

"Richard, remember the rule: you must not fall in love with this woman or develop feelings. She is your property—only to be used and discarded whenever you wish. Once you’re done with her, get rid of her if you no longer want her," my father reminded me coldly. He and my mother divorced because she couldn’t tolerate his lifestyle.

Dad used women, seeing them as objects to buy, own, break, and discard.

I nodded. "Don’t worry, Father. I’ll have her branded and follow the rules."

"Good. Enjoy your birthday night. I’ll see you tomorrow at the meeting." My father walked to his waiting black car, flanked by bodyguards.

I got into mine, where the pretty blonde was still unconscious.

She hadn’t woken from the horror she’d endured, and I knew she’d be shocked once she awoke and saw me as her new master.

I anticipated her reaction.

"Boss, where are we heading?" my assistant, Derek Tyler, asked. He stood beside my car, ready to drive.

"I’m going home. You drive. I’ll sit in the back with her in case she wakes up before the security checkpoint," I said, tossing my keys to Derek.

He was 25, a year older than me.

"Alright, boss," Derek replied. He got into the driver’s seat, and I sat in the back beside the sleeping woman.

I let her feminine citrus scent envelop me.

As I settled beside her, she moaned and shifted, making my muscles tense.

Gently, I lifted her head and rested it on my lap while she slept, still in shock from the ordeal.

Her wavy blonde hair felt soft and warm as I ran my fingers through it.

"Let’s go," I ordered Derek, noticing him glance into the rearview mirror.

Derek averted his eyes and asked, "Forgive me, boss, but isn’t she Isabella’s sister? How did she end up sold tonight?"

"I don’t know, but she’s mine now. Keep your eyes off her," I warned coldly. Derek nodded.

"Understood, boss." Derek started the car and drove toward my new house.

Coming of age and stepping into my role at 24 felt good. As my father’s only son, he gave me money, power, and influence across Top Hills. I was respected like a prince, and I knew Isabella’s parents were lower-ranking mafia members.

Two years ago, I met Isabella at an event, and we got along because she was beautiful. We dated, but surprisingly, I never slept with her—though we kissed. I preferred to hold back, to make women yearn for my touch.

During my birthday party, Isabella brought her younger sister. I knew she had a sister because Isabella talked endlessly, even when unasked. That’s partly why I didn’t want to keep her—or marry her.

But when my gaze fell on Angela, I saw her innocence. She looked out of place, as if she didn’t belong at my party.

I wanted her. I wanted a taste of her body, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

She whimpered against my leg as I continued stroking her hair.

Then her eyes snapped open. Her blue eyes locked with my intense dark ones, and she immediately lifted her head from my lap, trembling.

"You… Richard? What are you doing in this car with me? How… Was it all a dream?" she asked, shaking like a leaf.