Sold

ASTRID

"50 million dollars!" 

My whimpering reduces as the dry, hoarse voice silences the crowd. I find myself gasping for air and for once since I got kidnapped, I try to control my tears. 

The voice reverberates in my head, leaving a trail of recognition behind. 

Everyone seated here is a monster. Why would any of their voices sound familiar to me?

Desperately, I search the crowd, looking for who owns the voice. For some reason, I badly wanna know. Just to prove if I'm right or not. If the voice is indeed the same one that has haunted my mind for months. 

"Who…who said that?" The organizer stutters. He sounds a bit scared. The confidence and enthusiasm he's been speaking with is gone. 

In the crowd, at the back bleachers, a man stands to his feet. Huge. Buff. Dominating. Dark.

My jaw drops.

It's him. Fredrick Salvatore.

What's he doing here, looking more terrifyingly sinful and drenched in a horrific aura? He looks scary, not in an intriguing way like before. But in a nightmarish way. His hair isn't in a bun as usual. He let it fall, down to his shoulder, and it heightened his gloomy look. 

I can hear the fierce beating of my heart and the numbness crawling up my toes from the cold and dread.

He's very far away from me but somehow, he's subjecting me to an eye-lock. His gaze is ripping off whatever shred of composure I had going on. Now I feel more terrified than before.

Why is he in this crowd? Why is he bidding for me? Is this his circle or does he just love coming to sick events like this?

"Eagan King?" The organizer announces and there is an eruption of gasps and panic.

Eagan King? The name echoes in my head, forcing down hot, premature tears.

No. Eagan King is the monster of Love Island City. Everyone knows his name because of the horror he leaves on the street. But we don't know what he looks like. For a man as powerful as he is, he tends to avoid the public. He only lurks in the shadows cast by the dark. Like some sort of vampire.

In a crime city like ours, some names bring nightmares to our nights of sleep and agony in our hearts. 

Men like Eagan King are the monsters that make the city unbearable and hellish. Men like the ones who kidnapped me. They are pure menaces. Got no soul and no heart. 

I get on my knees every day and pray that they vanish from the city. From our lives. So we get to be free from the sad fate they've given us.

Fredrick Salvatore might have a rugged side to him but calling him Eagan King is a little overboard. It cuts off my breathing and sends tremors to every inch of my body.

He's not Eagan King…

"Yes." He replies, silencing the voice in my head. 

Yes? Did he just say 'yes'?!

"You're bidding for the girl?" The organizer questions in an unstable voice.

"Yes."

I can barely catch my breath. All of a sudden, I feel dizzy and my eyes are twirling from the shock. 

Breaking into deeper sobs, I wiggle slightly but the rope around my legs and hands is way too tight. Still, I don't stop wiggling.

How…how…how is he Eagan King? Tears cloud my heart, forcing me to hyperventilate. 

"Sold!" 

No, Jesus, no! Oh, dear God, this isn't happening. Please. Please!

I see him coming out of the bleachers and taking the path that leads to where I'm tied. His steps are heavy and leave a kind of quake.

His opal eyes have an unruly, yellow glint and for once, I see the real darkness lurking behind them.

I can't believe I ever found those eyes fascinating. 

He reaches me and I suck in a quick breath as his fingers brush against mine in his attempt to untie me.

I can feel the rage in his moves and I desperately plead to the silent crowd to save me from him. Not out loud, but with my wet eyes. 

It's hard enough that I get kidnapped and tossed into a hell filled with different devils. I accept that sick fate. I won't cry and feel sorry anymore.

But please, anyone else can buy me. I'm okay with anyone else. I won't fight. I won't argue. I promise. I pinky-swear it. Anyone else, but him. He's the biggest devil here and I'll be dead if I leave with him. 

"Come with me." He whispers brashly, grabbing my arm.

"No." I try to yank my arm away but his grip is as hard as steel. I don't stand a chance. "No, please. Let me go."

To think I always longed for his touch…

If I only knew it would be this cold and blood-curdling. 

"Never. So walk or I'm gonna carry you. Do you fucking understand that?"

He silences me with a monstrous glare. I give a frantic nod, stifling my sobs.

He drags me out of the hall with fast strides, going through what seems to be a back door. The hallway is dark but I hear numerous footsteps behind us.

He kicks a door open and we're outside. I gasp as the chilly air hits my naked skin but he doesn't stop. His fast, long strides keep going until we get to a black car.

Men dressed in black suits are standing at all corners, with dreadful, expressionless looks. 

I glance behind us and there's a long trail of men too. Are they his minions? They have to be. A man like him can never walk alone.

What are they gonna do to me?

"Mr. Fredrick, what do you – what do you want to do to me?" Scared as hell, I still manage to ask the question.

He halts and turns with a scowl and clenched teeth. "I'm sure you know pretty well now that I'm not Fredrick Salvatore. You're smart, Astrid. Don't play fucking dumb with me."

Astrid…he knows me. He knows my name. How? Wait, why not? He's a man who knows everyone's business. He invades people's lives and ruins them without a blink of an eye.

A sick sociopath! I can't believe I spent months fantasizing about him.

"Get in the car." He pulls the door open and pushes me inside. I fall on the seat and he slams the door shut.

"Mr. Fredrick! Please. Let me out!" I get into a crying fit, repeatedly hitting the glasses. I think I'm having a panic attack.

But there's no need for it. Because the car starts moving, and slowly, I lose sight of him.