The mafia’s captive

Cassiopeia Thompson’s life wasn't that of a princess, if anything it was more like a pauper's.

But it was about to get worse.

If only she knew..

The evening began like every other charity gala she’d been dragged to; a parade of fake smiles, empty compliments, and overpriced champagne not to mention her nose gettingbombarded by the scents from hundreds of perfumes, it always made her dizzy.

This time, she wasn't dizzy. If anything her hair was standing. She didn't know why but this particular evening had a different chill. Cassie couldn't quite point what it was but she was sure something was different.

There was desperation in the air as socialites clung to their status with manicured nails and designer dresses that probably cost more than her college tuition.

This was more than just a charity event. Something was happening, and at the back of her mind, she feared she was part of it.

She’d only agreed to attend because Elijah, her stepfather, had insisted, and Ryder, her stepbrother, had promised it wouldn’t be as boring as usual. Ryder, as it turned out, was a ordained liar.

Cassie’s emerald dress felt tighter with every forced smile, though it complemented her pale, smooth skin and hugged her curves, she felt more exposed than glamorous.

She fiddled with her champagne flute, her eyes drifting over the crowd.

Same faces, different night.

Lesser than usual smiles.

Cassie silently admitted it. She was scared.

What was more scary was she didn't know why.

Elijah looked unusually tense, his usual swaggard posture now stiff, eyes scanning the room apprehensively, as if expecting someone to jump out from behind the walls.

Ryder wasn’t much better, slowly dancing on his feet like he had an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Cassie leaned in, lowering her voice. “You two look like you just robbed a bank. Is someone about to start shooting? What's happening?”

Ryder flinched, his smile a poor disguise for the fear in his eyes.

“Just... stay close, okay?”

Well, what did she expect? But before she could demand an explanation, Elijah’s hand closed around her arm, firmly almost painfully.

“We need to go,” he muttered, quickly guiding her towards a narrow hallway that led away from the main ballroom.

Cassie didn’t get the chance to argue and she didn't bother. Sooner or later, she was going to find out what all this was about.

Ryder trailed behind like a guilty shadow, he was trying his best to avoid her gaze.

Something was definitely wrong. The last time Ryder was this quiet, he’d crashed Elijah’s car and spent a week avoiding eye contact. Her pulse quickened, a prickly sensation crawling upher spine.

They stopped in front of a giant oak door guarded by two large chiseled men who looked even bigger than the door.

Their faces were expressionless, with eyes cold and detached. Elijah gave them a nod, and the door swung open without a word.

Cassie’s heart sank as they stepped inside. By this time, her palms were sweaty and she could hear her heartbeat loudly in her ears.

The room was dark and suffocating, the walls lined with heavy velvet drapes that swallowed sound.

A long mahogany table decorated the space, surrounded by men whose faces she recognized from magazine covers and news headlines. CEOs, political powerhouses, billionaires; men who ruled the world from behind their exteriors.

But the man at the head of the table commanded all the attention.

Bain Blackwood.

Cassie knew who he was. Everyone did. Bain Blackwood wasn’t just rich; he was powerful.

Ruthless. Untouchable. The kind of man who could destroy lives with a phone call and go for a massage afterwards.

He was gorgeous, too. Tall, dark hair perfectly styled, piercing blue eyes that could freeze you in place.

He was every bad decision wrapped in an Armani suit, and the way he was looking at her made her skin crawl.

Her heart was threatening to jump out of her chest now, she felt like crying. She wanted to run, but her feet wouldn’t move. Her throat went dry, a chill running through her body as Bain’s eyes raked over her.

His  gaze heavy and curious. Cassie’s stomach turned, panic simmering just beneath the surface.

Elijah’s waivering voice broke the silence, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight. We have a special auction... my stepdaughter, Cassiopeia Thompson, is up for sale to the highest bidder.”

Cassie blinked, she must have heard wrong. She looked to Elijah; now staring expectantly to the power houses, and then to Ryder; still avoiding her gaze.

She knew she didn't have ear problems. She heard what she heard.

Cassie’s world tilted. Her heart dropped to her stomach as her mind struggled to process the words.

This was a joke. It must be a joke! Some sick, twisted joke.But no one was laughing.

She turned to Ryder, her eyes pleading.

“Tell me this isn’t happening.” Ryder’s face described shame and guilt even without meeting her eyes.

Her heart shattered, disbelief turning to fury.

“You knew?” Her voice managed to come out as a whisper. Ryder flinched as if he had been slapped still keeping his head bent.

Cassie’s chest tightened, her vision blurring as she looked back at Elijah.

“How could you...?” Her words broke, choked by betrayal. Elijah wouldn’t look at her either, his gaze fixed on the floor.

This must be a cruel joke. People didn’t sell other people. Not in real life. Not in her life.

“One million,” Bain’s voice was calm, almost bored but fierce.

The bidding started. Her bidding started. Reality slammed into her like a freight train. She was being sold. Her freedom, her life; everything was being measured in dollar signs.

“One point five,” another voice countered, coming from a man with a sleazy smile that reminded her of her bladder again. He looked her up and down, his gaze slimy and lecherous.

Now, she also wanted to throw up. She was trapped, powerless. A prize to be won by the highest bidder.

“Two million,” Bain’s voice cut through the room, sharp and with the tone of finality. She looked up to find his eyes firmly locked on her. Even before she heard that one word from Elijah, she knew.

This man, powerful and feared, with deep blue eyes and unwavering expression was her new master.

The room fell silent. No one challenged him.

“SOLD,” Elijah’s voice cracked.

It was over. Just like that. She had been sold by the man who was supposed to protect her.

Bain stood up, his presence commanding, suffocating. He moved toward her menacingly, his eyes never leaving hers.

He stopped just inches away, his voice low and possessive.

“You’re mine now.” Bain’s hand brushed her cheek, his touch gentle in stark contrast to his words.

“I advise you accept it.” His lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

She felt bile rise to her throat and pulled away from his touch running as fast as her legs could carry her to the door with the toilet sign on it.

As she ran, she heard him growl "leave her.”

That was the first thing she was grateful for this evening, a second later and it would have been too late.

Minutes later, as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, she didn't want to fight or scream, she had no strength for that.

Her mind was broken, she was helpless, trapped in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. Her fate was sealed.

There was no escape.