She was supposed to be invisible but he made her his obsession. When desperate debts force Lysandra Thorne into a high-society auction, she never expects the world’s most ruthless media mogul to claim her with a single chilling bid: “One million, for the entirety of the terms. Unnegotiated.” Now Lys is trapped in Cassian Vale’s glittering, merciless world - a cage of glass and power where secrets cut sharper than knives, and desire is as dangerous as it is irresistible. Six months in his penthouse means freedom for her ailing sister… but survival comes at the price of surrendering to a man who always gets what he wants. But Cassian’s obsession isn’t a chance. He knows her. He’s always known her. As scandals ignite, rivals circle, and betrayals bleed, Lys must learn to play Cassian’s dangerous game of control, passion, and power - because losing isn’t an option. And in a world where every move is a weapon, love might be the most ruthless gamble of all. A story of obsession, betrayal, and a love powerful enough to shatter empires.
View MoreA shove between my shoulders sent me stumbling forward. The spotlight was blinding.
"Lot Forty-Seven! Step right up! Let's see our mystery prize!" The auctioneer's voice was a slick, oily thing that slid over the crowd. I clutched the edges of my cheap black dress. Don't faint Lys. Breathe. For Elara. "And what a mystery she is! Gentlemen, ladies, we offer one exclusive evening. The nature of this evening?" He paused, letting the silence get heavy, letting them all imagine whatever they wanted. "That is for the winning bidder to decide. Do I hear fifty thousand to start?" My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs. Fifty thousand. That’s the first payment. Just say fifty. Please. A grunt came from the back. "Fifty!" "Sixty!" a sharper voice snapped. "Seventy-five!" The numbers started to climb. Each one was a shot of adrenaline, a shot of pure terror. It’s working. It’s actually working. "One hundred twenty thousand!" the auctioneer crowed. "Do I hear one-thirty? One-thirty for a night you won't forget?" I squeezed my eyes shut behind the mask. Elara, hold on. I’m doing it. I’m really doing it. Then a voice cut through the noise. It wasn't loud. It was cold. Absolute. It froze the very air in the room. "One million." The silence was immediate. Total. My eyes flew open. I didn't need to search for the source. Everyone was already looking at him. Cassian Vale. Unmasked. Of course he doesn't need one, he's The Cassian Vale. The founder and face of Vale global media, one of the biggest entertainment empire. His eyes, the colour of a winter storm, were locked on me. Only me. The auctioneer sputtered. "M-Mr. Vale! A… a magnificent offer! Do we have one million one hundred?" Cassian didn't even glance his way. "For the entirety of the terms," he said, each word a chip of ice. "Unnegotiated." "The… the entirety sir? But the terms are for the—" "Un. Negotiated." The finality in his voice left no room for argument. This wasn't a bid. It was a seizure. "Right! Of course! Unnegotiated terms! One million dollars! Going once… Going twice—" "Bullshit!" A drunk in a lion mask lurched out of the crowd, his words slurred. "Vale hoardin' the only interesting thing here? Let's see what he's payin' for!" I tried to back away. "Don't—" His hand shot out, grabbing the edge of my mask. I heard the elastic snap, a sound as small and final as a neck breaking. The mask clattered to the floor. The spotlight hit my full face. I felt naked. Exposed. My hair fell loose around my shoulders. A wave of gasps rolled over me. I saw their eyes widen, their hungry stares devour me. The hidden thing my life depended on was gone. The drunk grinned, reaching a sweaty hand toward my cheek. "Well, helloooo—" Crack. One moment he was leering. The next, he was on his knees, screaming, his wrist bent at a sickening angle. Cassian stood between us, his expression utterly calm. He hadn't even seemed to move. He didn't look at the man writhing at his feet. His eyes were still on me. When he spoke, his voice was low, a private threat for everyone to hear. "Touch what's mine again," he said, so softly I almost didn't catch it. "And you lose the hand." He released the man. Then he turned to me and held out his hand. Palm up. A command. "Come." I stared at it. One million dollars. Elara is safe. The debt is gone. The math was simple. The cost was everything. My own hand trembled as I lifted it. When my fingers touched his, his grip was like iron. Cold. Unyielding. He didn't pull me; he simply turned, and I had no choice but to follow or be dragged. The crowd parted for him without a sound. The heavy doors to the main hall shut behind us, sealing off the noise. The sudden quiet in the private elevator was deafening. I pressed myself against the wall. "Why me?" The words were a ragged whisper. "Why would you pay that?" His gaze was a physical weight on my body. "Because I wanted to." "A million dollars… for what?" "I bought you," he said, his voice flat. "The terms are unnegotiated. That means all of them." The elevator doors opened to a private garage. A silent driver held the door of a black car. Cassian guided me in with a hand on my back. Not in a gentle way. Proprietary. The car moved silently through the night. I watched the city lights blur. "Where are you taking me?" "Home." "Your home?" "Yes." "My sister… her treatment…" "It's done." The rest of the ride passed in a silence so thick I could taste it. We finally stopped underground. He led me to a private elevator that opened directly into a foyer. The place was vast, all cold marble and sharp edges. It felt like no one lived here. It felt like a museum. He stopped in front of a set of double doors. "This is your place from now on," he said. "I… my things. I have a bag—" "You don't need it." His grey eyes held mine, stripping me bare more effectively than the spotlight had. "You'll stay for six months, you must be available. You can't leave. You won't contact anyone and your sister's life will be taken care of. Do you understand the transaction?" "Available for what?" I hated the shake in my voice. "Whatever I decide." He placed a hand on the door handle. "Test me, Lysandra, and the consequences will be disastrous. For you, and for her." He pushed the door open. The room beyond was huge, impersonal, dominated by a bed that looked like it had never been slept in. He didn't say another word. He just waited. I took a breath that felt like it might be my last. Elara, forgive me. I walked past him into the room. The door clicked shut behind me. The sound was so soft, so final. I was all alone. I sank to the floor, the cold marble seeping through my dress. I wrapped my arms around my knees, making myself small. Outside, I heard his footsteps walk away. Each one was a tick of a clock, counting down the seconds of my old life. I’d sold my freedom to save my sister. I just prayed the price wouldn't destroy us both. LYSANDRA "I can't really just be staying in this house for six months and do nothing, right? It's always just me and the workers. They won't even talk to me if i talk to them. I'm always bored, and it's getting quite suffocating." I said, keenly observing him as he sat across the dining table looking at me. "It's part of the terms." He replied, a little softer than i imagined. "Yes i know. You clearly told me I'd be here until our agreed time elapse. But still, i can't just sit around all day and do nothing. I'm not used to that." "You have the TV in the sitting room to keep you company." "It's the same routine everyday! I'll wake up to see you gone, the workers are not even always the same so I can't form a bond with them. You clearly told them not to interact with me, didn't you? What did i do? And you may not even come back home at night, you never told me your plans, never talked to me. It's just like I'm the only human in this building. You don't consider me a 'human',
LYSANDRAI stared at the screen, looking at the blurry words. Pretty little sister.“How… how do they have this number? Who is that?”Cassian snatched the phone back, his face a mask of cold fury. He typed a single sentence; Who is this?The reply was instant.Unknown: A concerned party. Your silence is becoming expensive, Vale. Let’s talk.“It’s him. Croft.” Cassian’s voice was low, dangerous. “He’s making his move.”“He threatened Elara! You said he wouldn’t find her! You said I was safe!”“You are safe! This is a bluff, a probe. He’s trying to rattle me. And he’s succeeding because of you.”“Because of me? This is your fault! Your world! You dragged me into it!”“You walked onto that auction block yourself! You invited this!”My phone buzzed again in his hand. He looked at it, and his expression changed. The anger was replaced by something sharper. He answered.“What.”He listened, his gaze locked on me. “When?... How severe?... I see. Keep me informed.” He ended th
LYSANDRA The day went by quickly. I traced the same path from the bedroom to the library to the empty living area. It was silent as ever. I found myself staring at the closed terrace door, my hand hovering near the handle. “If you touch it, an alarm will ring." I spun around and there he was, leaning in the doorway, watching me. How long had he been there? “I wasn’t going to—” “I know. The thought didn’t get far enough. Did you find a book?” “No.” “Bored already?” “I’m not here to be entertained. You said you’d tell me about Elara.” He checked his watch. “The procedure has another hour, but she’s stable. No news is good news. For now.” “For now.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “That’s not good enough.” “It will have to be.” He walked further into the room, his presence shrinking the space. “We have a function tonight.” “A function?” “A VGM charity gala. And you’ll be there.” I stared at him. “You’re joking. You lock me in a penthouse and then want to take
LYSANDRA A sharp buzz jolted me awake. I hissed as i woke up on a strange but soft bed, the room was pitch black. The buzzer sounded again, continuously. A voice followed, flat and mechanical from a hidden speaker. “Mr. Vale expects you for breakfast in fifteen minutes.” I fumbled for a light switch. “It’s the middle of the night.” “It is 6:45 a.m., Miss Thorne. And you have fifteen minutes to be there.” The speaker clicked off. Then I stumbled out of bed in a pyjamas i was given yesterday. My clothes from last night were gone. In the walk-in closet, a single, simple black dress hung alone. My size. I dressed on autopilot. The dining room was all cold glass and sharp angles. He was already there, reading a financial tablet, a half-empty cup of black coffee beside him. He didn’t look up. “Sit.” I pulled out the heavy chair opposite him. The scrape of wood on marble was obscenely loud. A silent woman in a plain uniform placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of me.
CASSIAN The lock engaged on the other side of the door. A soft, final sound. I stood there for a moment, listening. There was no sound coming from her, not a sob, not a scream. Just the silence of a contained variable. My phone buzzed. “Report.” “The transfer is complete, Mr. Vale. All outstanding charges against the Thorne name have been satisfied. The hospital administrator has also confirmed the girl’s new treatment protocol. Funding is secured.” “See that it stays that way.” “Of course, sir. And the father?” “Leave him. He’ll surface. He always does.” I ended the call. The silence of the penthouse was a familiar comfort. Now it was shared. I turned and walked back to her door. I didn't knock. I spoke through it. “Open the door, Lysandra.” A beat of silence. Then, the handle turned. She stood there, her face pale white, eyes staring wide. Still trying to look defiant. A cornered animal. “We need to establish the rules.” “You gave me the rules. I'll spend
A shove between my shoulders sent me stumbling forward. The spotlight was blinding. "Lot Forty-Seven! Step right up! Let's see our mystery prize!" The auctioneer's voice was a slick, oily thing that slid over the crowd. I clutched the edges of my cheap black dress. Don't faint Lys. Breathe. For Elara. "And what a mystery she is! Gentlemen, ladies, we offer one exclusive evening. The nature of this evening?" He paused, letting the silence get heavy, letting them all imagine whatever they wanted. "That is for the winning bidder to decide. Do I hear fifty thousand to start?" My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs. Fifty thousand. That’s the first payment. Just say fifty. Please. A grunt came from the back. "Fifty!" "Sixty!" a sharper voice snapped. "Seventy-five!" The numbers started to climb. Each one was a shot of adrenaline, a shot of pure terror. It’s working. It’s actually working. "One hundred twenty thousand!" the auctioneer crowed. "Do I hear one-thirty? O
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