Chapter 3

Cassiel’s POV

The underground club was a temple of excesses — soft candlelight flickered across dark velvet walls, and low music hummed beneath the murmur of the world’s wealthiest and most dangerous men. Here, the rules of the outside world didn’t exist. Deals were made with whispers, fortunes were lost with a glance, and power belonged to the one willing to pay the highest price.

I sat in my usual place—an exclusive balcony overlooking the grand auction hall. From here, I could see everything, every desperate soul trying to sell themselves into favor, every predator waiting to devour them.

But tonight, I wasn’t alone.

The woman beside me was draped in an elegant black gown, her silver mask catching the dim light. She was poised, exuding an effortless grace that made others assume she was just another socialite on my arm. But those who knew better understood she was more than that.

She swirled her wine, her voice smooth. “You’re quieter than usual. This place doesn’t entertain you anymore?”

I smirked faintly. “It never did.”

She exhaled in amusement. “Then why are we here?”

Before I could answer, the room shifted. The murmurs of conversation dulled, and I turned my attention to the stage. The final auction was beginning.

The announcer stepped forward, his presence commanding. “For our last offering of the night—Item Number Seventeen.”

I took a slow sip of his drink, uninterested. Until—

A familiar figure stepped onto the stage.

My grip on his glass tightened, the crystal dangerously close to shattering.

Julian.

His posture was rigid, chin lifted in defiance despite the silk restraints around his wrists. The dim lighting highlighted the sharp cut of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders. He was dressed in dark slacks and an unbuttoned white shirt, exposing the hollow of his throat and the edge of his collarbone.

The sight sent a pulse of something sharp through my groin.

The woman beside me noticed. “Interesting,” she mused.

I said nothing.

I had let him go when I watched on the car screen as he slipped away from my estate, believing he was free. And this is where he had run?!

A cold fury settled deep in my bones.

He thought he could escape me, thought he could throw himself into the arms of another powerful man and walk away unscathed. Fool. He had no idea the kind of men in this room.

The bidding started.

“One million.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

I leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on his face. There was no fear there—only calculation, his mind working through the numbers, trying to control a situation that had already spun out of his hands.

“Five million,” someone called.

He inhaled sharply, his throat bobbing.

Beside me, my companion let out a low hum. “A reckless gamble,” she murmured. “But he’s clever. If he plays this right, he could secure a benefactor powerful enough to—”

“Ten million,” I interrupted.

The room stilled.

The announcer hesitated, clearing his throat. “A… rather generous bid from our distinguished guest.”

No one challenged me.

Even in a place like this, even with my identity masked, they all knew. They knew better.

Julian’s sharp gaze swept the room, scanning the crowd for the man who had just purchased him.

I remained still, hidden in the shadows, watching.

Then, his body tensed.

Even though he couldn’t see me, even though he had no idea whose hands had just closed around his fate—he felt it.

The invisible chain tightening. The inescapable pull of gravity.

The hammer fell.

I had won.

Julian had just sold himself to the devil.

Backstage

The moment Julian was escorted from the stage, I moved, descending from the balcony while my companion followed at a leisurely pace.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she mused.

I smirked. “A little.”

The private corridors of the auction house were dimly lit, the velvet curtains muffling the noise from the main hall. I walked with purpose, my presence parting the staff like water as I reached the secured rooms where the “purchases” were held.

A guard stepped forward. “Sir, only the winning—”

I cut him a look. The man swallowed hard and stepped aside.

Inside the lavish waiting chamber, Julian sat stiffly on a leather couch, his wrists free now, but his posture guarded. He turned at the sound of the door opening, his hazel eyes flashing with wariness.

I stepped inside.

His body went still as his gaze swept over my form — taking in the black mask, the sharp suit, the familiar presence of someone powerful enough to make the world bow.

But he didn’t recognize me.

I smirked. Good.

It would make what came next even more entertaining.

“Congratulations,” I drawled, my voice deceptively smooth. “You belong to me now.”

His fingers curled into fists. “For the night,” he corrected coldly.

I tilted my head, amused. “Is that what you think?”

His jaw tightened. “That’s what I agreed to.”

I took a slow step closer, savoring the way his breath hitched—just barely. “You agreed to be bought. To let someone own you. Did it really matter who?”

His eyes darkened. “It matters now.”

I chuckled, reaching for the crystal decanter on the nearby table and poured two glasses of whiskey, offering one to him.

But he didn’t take it.

I merely smirked and took a sip of my own. “Tell me, Julian… were you truly so desperate that you thought this was your only choice?”

A flicker of something dangerous crossed his face. “You don’t know me.”

I leaned in slightly as my smirk widened. “Don’t I?”

A tense silence stretched between us.

Julian was good at hiding his emotions, at keeping his walls high. But I saw it—the weight pressing down on him, the suffocating need to do something, anything, to regain control of his life.

I had seen that look before in men, moments before they shattered.

I set my drink down and took another step closer, crowding into his space. I watched, waiting for him to step back—to run.

He didn’t.

My smirk deepened. Good.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I murmured. “You’re going to leave this room with me. You’ll smile. You’ll behave. And in return, you’ll get exactly what you came for.”

His breath was steady, but his pulse — I could see it thrumming at the base of his throat, fast and sharp.

“And if I don’t?” He asked quietly.

My smile was slow, almost gentle. “You already belong to me, Julian.” My voice dropped lower, silk over steel. “Do you really think you have a choice?”