The offer

Livia's POV

As I'm led into the gambling den thick with the smell of cigarettes, booze and desperation, I subconsciously make myself smaller, like the ugly leering faces will lose interest if I look small enough. In my twenty two years, I have never seen the inside of a gambling den and I could have gone a lifetime without this privilege.

When I make my proposal to 'The boss' who is a shrewd wiry man with tiny beaded eyes, he throws back his head and laughs like I just made the joke of the century.

"Does your job pay you a million dollars a month?" He asks and my jaw drops open.

"She can't possibly be owing that much!" I say, dread unfurling in my gut like a poisoned flower.

"She does. And if you cannot get that money between today and tomorrow, your house and everything in it is forfeit."

"Where would I get that amount in two days?!” I cry.

“Not my business.” He replies with a shitty grin. He has me and he knows it. My mind whirrs helplessly, looking for a way out and finding none.

“We can reach an agreement, I can pay you monthly until it’s all paid. Please! The house is not even worth that much!" I argue, sure I can convince him to see reason. That house is old and weak, a good flood may even knock it over but it’s worth fighting for because it’s the only one we've got.

"True." He says, stroking a thin goatee. "I may need to sell one of the kids to make up the deficit."

The words turn my body to ice. My sisters sold into what exactly?! I would die before I watched that happen. I lurch forward and grab his hand, desperate. His goons tense but do nothing as I fall to my knees.

"Please!" I beg, tears streaming down my face. "I will do anything! Leave my sisters out of this, I'm begging you."

A long silence filled only by my silent cries follows and then he grabs my chin and meets my gaze with his shrewd one.

"Did you say 'anything'?" He asks in a way that brings me instant regret.

I swallow hard, every sense of preservation screaming at me to take it back and run away from here as fast as my legs will carry me but what good does that do to my family? Even knowing it is the most foolish ill-informed decision I ever made, I nod.

"Yes, anything." I whisper.

A smile curves his lips wickedly and his thin thumb strokes my jaw, sending an awful shudder of revulsion through me. My skin crawls and I fight bile at the back of my throat, silencing the voice that is yelling at me that I'm a fool and the only use a man like this will have for me is to sell my body. But even my worst imaginations does not whisper the true nature of the horror that awaits me.

"Put her on the auction." He commands and large hands grab me, dragging me to my feet.

"What?!" I protest, wrenching and pulling to get away from the iron grips now dragging me to the back. "What do you mean? Where are you taking me?"

I manage to wrench an arm free from my assailants and stab my long nails into the second man's eyes. When he cries out and releases me, I hiss and spin back around, eyeing their boss as my heart gallops out of my chest with fear. He sneers and comes forward.

"You want to know what the auction is? I'm going to dress you up in pretty clothes tonight and I'm gonna put you up on a stand. A lot of insanely rich motherfuckers are going to bid to have you and I will sell you to the highest bidder. With that face and that body, you should easily sell for half a million. You will be a good girl and put up a smile the entire time because if you don't, I will bring your two sisters and I'll put them up instead, after your mother tragically overdoses on cocaine. Do you understand?"

With each word he utters, I feel the awful cage of my new life tighten as surely as a noose around my neck. Ny panic attack is coming back now and I feel so faint I'm afraid I'll pass out. I have to do this, the only other alternative is... unthinkable. Tears fall silently down my face as I look into what is now the face I hate the most in the world.

"Do you understand?!" He snarls, spraying my face with spit.

"Yes." I whisper.

The next few hours are a blur. I'm shoved into a tiny stall to bathe but all I do is crouch in the corner and breathe, recalling everything that happened today on a loop. When did it all go so wrong? I stay in there so long that someone on the other side starts pounding on the door. When she shoves it in and sees me on the same spot, she huffs in annoyance and hauls me out anyway, shoving me into a chair as she starts applying makeup on my face.

I sit as still as a statue, terrified that if I move even a finger, I'll fall and shatter into a million screaming pieces. The scream is stuck at the back of my throat and tears prick my eyes, why me? Why always me? Why does everything always go so wrong? I almost had it, the job I wanted and the life I always dreamed of but once again, that has been wrenched from my fingers forever. Life just never goes the way I want it, ever! I'm choking with the unfairness of it all.

Two hours later, I stare into the mirror at a terrified stranger. My face is heavily painted and the flowing white dress has a more daring neckline than even Miley Cyrus would wear, with a thigh high slit that exposes the entire length of my leg and higher stilettos than I have ever worn. The stylist claps excitedly, the gum in her mouth smacking loudly as she shoves me to a room non-too-gently.

"Perfect. Now go on."

I walk forward on shaky legs, my eyes widening to find several more women in the room, all dressed and made up. Seven in total, I count.

A sleazy man in an ill-fitting suit grins when he sees me and comes forward.

"And the belle of the evening!" He announces. "I was promised you were an eyeful but I admit you surpass even my wildest imaginations. You will easily fetch a million but before we launch into tonight's festivities, I have a few questions for you. What's your body count?"

I stare at the strange man asking me intrusive questions and try to conceal my panic. He is standing too close, the smell of booze on his breath is too strong, I look down at my hands to find them shaking and it is only when he grabs my shoulder and shakes me that I realize he has been pelting me with questions that I've not given answers to.

"Are you mute or something?" He muses, visibly annoyed as he sets a paper before me. "Listen, one word of advice from me? Accept your new life, the quickest ones usually survive longest. Sign here."

Survival? Am I entering a war zone? A cursory glance at the papers shows me that I'm agreeing to enter into this contract to be auctioned on that stage, sold to the highest bidder after which I will belong to the buyer explicitly. It is modern day slavery. The contract goes on to say that any proceeds made from me belong solely to Rafe Lennox, the auction organizer and owner of this gambling den. In exchange, all of my mother's debts will be forgiven and we can keep our house. Rafe Lennox. I now have a name to focus my hatred on and I promise myself that I will pay him back for this one day, if I survive as the sleazy lawyer so aptly put it.

My hand is still shaking as I sign the papers and an hour later, the number of ladies dwindle until it's just one left in the room. I stare at that dreaded white door, knowing it will open again in about five minutes and one of us here will go through. Subconsciously, I'm rocking on my seat when I feel a tap on my shoulder that jerks me into myself.

The last lady is looking down at me and she offers me a cigarette. I've never smoked anything in my life but I take it from her and take a long drag, promptly dissolving in a coughing fit. She takes it from me and my eyes water as I look at her.

"Show no fear, they feed on it. And whatever you do, avoid being bought by Silas Wren." She says and my heart lurches with terror.

Before I can ask what she means, the white door opens and she crushes the cigarette butt under her stilettos before heading out without a backward glance.

I don't realize I'm trembling until my teeth start to chatter. Those five minutes are both the shortest and longest dreaded moments of my life and when the door opens again, I know I can no longer avoid this fate. Tears stream down my face as I'm led through the white door and as it slams closed behind me, so does the door to the life I always knew.

I didn't expect the noise. Raucous laughter, excited female squeals, the clank of dishes and tinkle of glasses, the high tempo music. It all stops immediately I climb on the stand, bathed by too-bright spotlights. By some miracle, my legs are still holding me up though I can't feel them. My eyes dart around the room, looking from one shrewd male gaze to another, all eyeing me with hunger. Can they smell my fear? Hear my heart pounding louder than their speakers? I try to hide my terror but my trembling body betrays me.

"This evening, we have prepared something special for you, something different." The announcer's voice swells to fill the attentive room and I close my eyes and pray. For what? I'm not sure, God already abandoned me and my family.

"Fresh meat, never seen before in this zone. She is pure as first snow, never before touched... by anyone!"

A low rumble of voices ripple through the room and I shut my eyes tighter.

"With beauty to rival the Goddess of beauty herself and a body that is made to satisfy a man's basest desires, her inexperience can easily be forgiven. One of you will walk home with her tonight. The bidding starts at a hundred million dollars, do we have any takers?"