THIRTEEN

What have I gotten myself into? Amber wondered as she stared at her reflection. In the full-length mirror that hung from the crimson white walls of the dressing room stood a stranger.

Is that me? She gaped, peering into the mirror and raised her right hand, waving it slightly. The redhead in the mirror waved back. She could not believe her eyes. Standing in front of her was a beautiful, elegant and sexy looking woman. She blinked, feeling a little like Cinderella.

Except Cinderella had never been auctioned off dressed like this, she thought wryly before her reflection tugged at her attention once more. Her eyelashes had been curled up to bring focus to her emerald eyes and while her face had largely been kept to a bare minimum, it was clean and glowy with only a faint red tint to her lips.  

Her neck looked extra slender, and it was all due to the silken black kimono with gold butterflies that parted suggestively at her shoulders, hanging loosely around her and threatening to slide off her slender frame. Her only saving grace was the silken black knot which she tied twice around her waistline.

Amber’s normally wavy red hair was styled in a loose coiffure. A few of her locks had escaped, they tumbled past her shoulders and touched the tops of her breasts swelling above her kimono’s low neckline.  The attire was cut down one-sided to show off her long limbs and she had to make a conscious effort to walk in baby steps so as not to expose herself. She was prohibited from wearing anything underneath. She gulped.

“Honey, what on earth are you doing?” it was Lola, leaning against the curtain railing of the dressing cubicle with her arms crossed. She did not look pleased.

Amber shook her head. “I’m not sure either,” she confessed, biting her lips.

She thought of her brother Anson, who had pleaded tearfully with her to let it go. “It’s okay, the cops will find the truth,” he had cried. It was a lie and they both knew it. The police might not be able to trace his handprints for now but it was only a matter of time before they did. She had to get the evidence before then. She hugged Anson tightly before leaving for the club earlier and told him a big fat lie, “Fabian Williams mentioned he was looking for a maid to clean his house the night before. I’m going to apply for the job.” Either she was an extremely good liar, or her brother was not as smart as she thought he was. He bought her lie at face value.

Lola stepped into the cubicle, stopping right behind Amber and placing her hands on the redhead’s pale slender shoulders.

“This isn’t a game. You are auctioning your body off to a man,” Lola scoffed in disbelief. She shook Amber’s shoulder a little, as if trying to wake her up, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

A lump formed in Amber’s throat and she looked down at her bare feet. She was told not to wear any footwear into the auction room either. She could feel tears flooding her eyes, blurring her vision and had to blink back her tears. But it was no use, a drop of tear slid down her cheeks, and then another.

Lola was no fool, she could sense that something was wrong. She spun Amber around and lifted her chin, “Girl, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for Fabian Williams?”

Huh? Amber wiped her tears away. Is that what she thinks it is?

And she started to laugh a little. If only Lola knew.

“I’m a fool aren’t I?” she asked, smiling and crying at the same time. Lola nodded, still thinking that Amber had fallen head over heels in love with Fabian Williams. They were both talking to each other and yet, they were both referring to very different things.

“You’re in for a heartbreak. Fabian Williams has never had a serious relationship with any woman before…like ever! I heard that the longest he’s been with one..she was a celebrity I think was two months top and that was it. And she never even stepped foot into his house! They would only meet outside or at her place for dates!”

Amber’s heart stopped. The lights from the bulbs surrounding the mirror suddenly felt too bright, and the room began to suffocate her, “Wait..what do you mean she never stepped foot into his house?”

Lola’s eyes softened at Amber’s surprised look. She tsked, “Girl, that guy is a hottie. No doubt. He’s handsome, he’s charismatic and he’s loaded. But he’s like a fortress! Just ask Bree here. She’s been auctioned by him before.”

He has? Just how many women has he had before? Amber suddenly felt very intimidated. In came Bree, an exotic and beautiful brunette with a slight Russian accent.

She gave Amber a sympathetic smile, “He’ll only break your heart, Amber Banks. Don’t put too much hope in that man. They’re all here at La Fire just for one thing. If it’s love you’re looking for then you’ve come to the wrong place.”

She was just about to turn to leave when Amber called her back, grabbing the brunette's hand like it was her lifeline, “Wait! Have you been to his house before? Lola just told me none of the women he’s been with has ever been there.”

Bree gave a shrug and shook her head. “He’s very good in bed though,” she gave a wicked smile and smacked Amber’s butt.

But I need to go there. I need to get to the safe! This will all be for nothing if I don’t get to go to his place!

The plan was simple. Liam Smith had pulled her aside right after she arrived at La Fire and gave her the instructions, “Join the auction and make sure William wins the bid for you. Find your way to his room and get me the fucking blueprint.” She was glad Anson had not been with her when Liam told her this. He had then pressed a little vial of clear liquid into her hands when he spoke to her earlier, “Get his passcode and then get to his safe. Spike his drink if you have to.”

But how would she get to his safe if he didn’t even bring women home? She would have to think of something. But before she could even react, Madam Cecil came barging in, pushing Lola and Bree to the side.

“Where’s my girl? Ahhh…there you are and aren’t you a beauty!” she lifted Amber’s arm like a prizefighter. Deep down in her heart, Amber felt nothing like a winner, in fact, she felt like a lamb going for slaughter. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes again and had to will herself to control her emotions, forbidding herself to crumble into despair.