Chapter 2: Bought

RICHARD

In the Dark Realm Auction House, I sat in the front VIP section with my father when my gaze landed on the six women set on the stage.

I felt stunned when I met her eyes—the same blue eyes of the pretty young woman Isabella had brought to my 24th birthday party at my clubhouse. How is this possible?

I had only arrived at the auction with my father, as he wanted me to accompany him to witness tonight's auction and bidding.

Seeing those pretty blue eyes, I couldn't look away.

I could perceive her innocence and felt the urge to protect her.

"Richard, do you desire to buy any of the women tonight? You can use her as your 24th birthday present," my father, Mr. Wesley Henshaw, said.

"Dad…" I grumbled, looking at the women set up on the stage to be sold. None of them caught my eye except Angela. I was waiting for her to be sold.

I knew she was mine the moment I set my black eyes on her. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and a pretty oval face.

"Richard," my father called to my attention once more to snap me out of my trance.

"Dad, I will choose when I see one of the women that catches my attention," I mumbled, dressed in a black ensembles and seated beside my father in the auction room.

After I left my birthday party at the club, I came here directly to see how the auction went.

It wasn't as if I was unaware of the things my father did for pleasure and fun, but none of the women had caught my attention.

I wanted someone different, to define my style, uniqueness, and taste.

Once the auctioneer mentioned Angela, my heartbeat quickened as I saw many bidders wanting to purchase her.

She wore the same blue dress she had worn to my 24th birthday party, and it made me wonder—how did she get here?

Did Isabella put her younger sister up for sale?

Was Angela kidnapped?

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

There were many mafia lords, both young and old, all desiring to purchase Angela. Her skin glowed more than that of the other women on the stage.

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

I kept my cool as her bidding started at one million dollars. She was worth more than gold.

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

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

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

"Fifty million dollars, going? Fifty million dollars, anyone else?" the auctioneer asked, looking around the dark room, where only the stage was lit.

"Sold!" the auctioneer announced, slamming the gavel, and my father looked at me proudly.

"Congratulations, Richard. You won the deal. Welcome to the Dark Realm Auction. You will have to brand her as your property, so other men keep off from touching her," my father stated, sitting next to me and exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Got it, Dad," I replied.

After leaving the auction room to complete Angela's payment, I was sure she didn't know who had purchased her.

She had fainted from the shock, her hands and legs were tied and her lips were taped.

"Take her to my car. She is going home with me," I instructed my assistant, who carried her off the stage.

"Richard, are you sure about this? She would have been taken to the harem for the women to train her. She is inexperienced," my father stated, standing next to me in the car park after I'd finished the payment for Angela's bidding.

"Don't worry, Father. I will personally train her," I replied, my voice cold and detached, not bothering to look back at his face.

"Richard, remember the rule. You are not to fall in love with this woman, or to develop any feelings for her. She is your property—only to be used and discarded whenever you want. And once you are done with her, you should discard her if you don't want her anymore," my father reminded me coldly. He and my mother had divorced because she couldn't withstand his lifestyle nor obeyed his rules.

Dad used women, seeing them as objects to purchase, own, break, and discard at any moment.

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

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

I got into mine, the pretty blonde woman was still unconscious and asleep.

She hadn't yet woken from the horror she'd been through, and I knew she would be shocked once she woke up and saw me as her new master.

I anticipated how she would react.

"Boss, where are you going?" my assistant, Derek Tyler, asked, standing next to my black car. He was like my driver.

"I am going home. You start the car—let me stay in the back with her, in case she wakes, and watch for the security checkpoint," I said, tossing my car keys into Derek's hands. He was twenty-five, a year older than me.

"Alright, boss," Derek answered. He got into the car, and I took a seat in the back next to the pretty blonde woman, still fast asleep. I let her feminine scent of citrus envelop me like a warm blanket.

As I sat next to her, she moaned and shifted, making my muscles tense.

As I took my seat, I gently raised her head and placed it on my thighs, since she was still in shock from the whole ordeal.

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

"Get going," I ordered Derek, catching him glance at the back of the car through the rearview mirror.

Derek averted his gaze and apologized, "Forgive me, boss, but isn't she Isabella's sister? How did she get sold tonight?"

"I don't know, but she is mine now, so keep your eyes off her," I warned coldly, and Derek nodded.

"Understood, boss." Once Derek started the car, he drove off toward my new house.

Coming of age and becoming a boss at twenty-four felt good. As my father's only son, he gave me money, power, and influence throughout Top Hills. The people respected me like a prince, and I knew Isabella's parents were part of the mafia, though of lower rank.

Two years ago, I met Isabella at a charity event, and we got along because she was beautiful. We dated, but surprisingly, I never had sex with her, even though we had kissed. I preferred to take my time and make women beg and yearn for my touch.

But, during my 24th birthday celebration, Isabella had brought her younger sister. I knew she had a sister because she talked a lot, even when I didn't ask her anything. That's part of why I didn't want to keep her or marry her.

But when my gaze fell on Angela, I could see her innocence—she looked out of place, as if she didn't belong at my party.

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

She whimpered on my thighs as I continued to run my fingers through her hair.

Then her blue eyes snapped open and locked with my intense black ones. She swiftly raised her head from my thighs, shivering.

"You—Richard… What are you doing inside this car with me? Was it a dream?" she asked, trembling like a leaf in the wind.