Chapter 3

I don't know how long I've been out but the first thing I notice when I wake up is the weight of the silence. 

No movement.

No sound. 

The only thing I hear is the faint hum of what I can assume is a distant air conditioner. My body feels sluggish and heavy like I've been asleep for days but I'm not sure. 

I blink my eyes open slowly, feeling disoriented and out of sorts. The light is muted, soft in its descent from the ceiling above. I take a moment to adjust and focus on the space around me. The room is sparse and decorated in soft, neutral tones. It's nothing too fancy but the quality of the sparse furniture is unmistakable. It's rich and expensive. The bed beneath me is soft and smooth against my skin. It's a far cry from the cold and sterile environment I had expected. 

I try to stand up but my body protests. My limbs are stiff, my muscles are sore from being drugged and dragged around through God knows where. I try to take in my surroundings, but everything feels off. A table sits against the far wall, with a vase of fake flowers that feels oddly contrasts to the otherwise lifeless feel of the room. 

The air smells faintly of something floral and cloying, like expensive perfume mixed with the sterile scent of something clinical. A distant metallic tang hangs in the air, but it's not enough to overpower the other scents. 

I run my hands through my hair. I am still dizzy and missing gaps in my memory, I am not sure what happened after him--- after the auction. Did I imagine it all? Was it truly real?

As if on cue, the door creaks open. 

The tall and broad-shouldered man steps into the room. My heart skips a beat as I lock eyes with him. He's dressed into a dark navy suit with the same calm expression on his face like before. He's like an immovable force that takes up all the presence in the huge space. I can feel his eyes on me but he doesn't speak first, he just watches and observes.

His gaze burns into my skin and despite myself I can't look away.

The man says nothing, just lets the air gets thick and suffocating around us. I can feel the tension coiling in my chest. 

"You're not just gonna stand there, are you?" my voice is rough but laced with defiance. It's the only thing that I have right now, my words and my sharp tongue. I lost the one opportunity I had to slither away into the night, but all is not lost. Maybe this will get me somewhere. Maybe it'll make him blink, even if only for a moment. 

The man gaze doesn't waver. He watches me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to piece together. A flicker of something dark crosses his features so fast that I almost convinced myself that I never saw it. 

"You're in no position to speak like that," he says in a low and even voice. He continues to stand at the doorway in his tailored suit like the he's always the one in control, like the whole world bends at his will. 

I narrow my eyes; the defiance only grows strong in my chest. "You drugged me, took me to God knows where and no you are telling me what to do?"

The man finally steps forward, it's slow and measured. His footsteps are too deliberate to be anything but purposeful. The sound of his shoes on the floor echos in the otherwise quiet space. He stops a few feet away, practically towering over me.

"You're going to get dressed," he says ignoring my challenge entirely. His tone brooks no argument. "Then come the fuck downstairs to eat,"

I can feel my teeth grit together. The way he speaks as if everything's a command and I am a object to be moved around at his will makes my blood boil but there is no denying the finality in his tone. As much as I want to push back, something inside me tells me that it's not worth the fight... at least not yet. 

"Fine," I snap, pushing myself from the bed. I can feel the ache and stiffness in my muscle as I do so. I take deliberate steps towards the small closet; I want him to know that I am not just going to bend to his will without so much as a struggle. 

As I open the closet, the door creaks slightly, and I take in the selection of expensive clothes inside. There's an array of tailored made dresses, ranging from black to deep luxurious clothes. Everything about them screams wealth. 

"Don't get too comfortable," I throw over my shoulder in a sarcastic voice, "I am not your puppet," 

The man stands there unmoving, his eyes are cold but a hint of amusement flickers in them. His gaze ligers on me for a second too long, like he's waiting for something... maybe a slip, a hint of fear perhaps but I give him nothing. 

"I'll be downstairs soon," I add with a smirk, though it doesn't quite reach my eyes. 

He doesn't answer, he just watches with that unreadable look, but something in his gaze shifts. A trace of respect, perhaps curiosity simmers beneath the surface. 

"Don't keep me waiting," he says smoothly and with that he turns on his heel and walks out leaving me alone with nothing but the clothes and the echo of his presence. 

The moment he's gone I exhale. Frustration and fear coils through me but I know that I just need to focus. For now, dressing and playing the part might be my chance to get a upper hand and eventually escape this place. 

I pull the first dress from the lineup and throw it on the bed. It's a simple black fitted dress that will fall above my knees, it's too simple but I don't care to dress nice or dress up for a man that I am about to have begging for mercy. 

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