All Chapters of SOLD TO AUGUST CHILDE: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

CAMILLATonight was opening night.And tonight was also the night I planned to run away from Rico for good.The thought sat heavy in my chest as I stood in front of the cracked mirror in the dressing room, staring at my reflection like I might not see it again after tonight. My heart thumped hard, fast, a messy mix of excitement and fear that made my hands tremble just a little.I adjusted the thin straps of my outfit, tugging them into place. The costume barely covered anything—sequins stitched into sheer fabric, clinging to my body like a second skin. It sparkled under the harsh white lights, made to catch attention, to draw eyes, to keep men watching longer than they meant to. Everything about it was designed for desire, not comfort.I hated that I looked good in it.I reached for my lipstick, the red one. Always red. It was the only thing that ever made me feel like I had some control over how I looked. I reapplied it carefully, my hand steady despite the rush in my veins. The co

CAMILLAI had no idea what came over me. One second, I was completely lost in the music—hips rolling, body moving on pure instinct, every beat flowing through me. The lights, the bass, the whispers of the crowd, it was all a blur. My hands felt like they belonged to someone else, my legs carrying me across the stage without thought.Then, out of nowhere, my eyes flicked up to the VIP section. And there he was. August Childe. Sitting like he owned the whole damn world, which, I guess, he pretty much did. Dark suit, tall, broad shoulders, the kind of presence that made everything else fade into the background. Beside him, Daniel Beaumont laughed at something I couldn’t hear, carefree and loud. And Rico—oh, Rico—hovered just like the sleazy shadow he always was, cigar dangling, watching us like we were his property.Something snapped inside me. I hated them. All of them. The way they sat there, so comfortable, draped in money and power. They could buy anything. And here I was, dancing

CAMILLAWe stepped into the elevator together, the doors closing behind us with that soft metallic click that sounded louder than it should have. August didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at me. He just pressed the top-floor button and stood there, hands buried deep in the pockets of his tailored suit, shoulders squared, staring straight ahead as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. His calm, unbothered aura only made my nerves spiral faster.I kept my arms wrapped tight around my middle, trying to cover as much skin as I could. The skimpy outfit that had felt like armor on stage, the one that had made me feel powerful and in control under the lights, now felt like nothing. It made me feel weak and vulnerable. Every floor we passed made my stomach twist tighter, coil in knots. One. Two. Three. Higher. Higher. Until the numbers stopped and the elevator doors slid open with a soft, almost ceremonial ding.He stepped out first, his long stride eating up the distance with an effortles

CAMILLAI froze the second I heard his voice.“I believe you’re going somewhere, miss?”Slow. Calm. Almost playful. But there was a sharp edge underneath that made my blood run cold. My entire body stiffened.I shook my head so fast my hair whipped against my shoulders. “No… no, I’m not going anywhere.” My voice came out louder than I intended. Heart hammering, pulse thundering in my ears.He chuckled. Low. Dark. The kind of laugh that sent a shiver crawling up my spine. Then he stepped closer, the air around him shifting, electric.His hand wrapped around my throat. Not enough to choke, but firm, deliberate, a reminder of the control he held. I could feel it in every nerve ending. My breath hitched.“You should have listened to me, pretty girl. I warned you not to run.”Instinctively, my hands went up, brushing against his wrist, trembling. “No… no, no, I’m not running. I swear.”“Camilla…” Ama’s voice floated from behind me, small, panicked. “Oh… sir…”August’s head snapped toward h

AUGUSTShit.Shit shit shit.I knew she was packing heat under that thin T-shirt. I’d felt the curves when I carried her, the weight of her in my arms, the way her body molded into mine. But nothing had prepared me for the moment the fabric cleared her head and those full, perfect breasts bounced free. My eyes locked on them, as if they were the only thing in the room. In the whole damn world.Time slowed. Everything else disappeared.She moved fast. Hands flying up to cover herself. That little action snapped me out of whatever trance I’d fallen into, like a cold splash of water to the face.I cleared my throat. Loud and forced. My pulse thundering in my ears. I reached for the soap and sponge I’d already set on the wide marble ledge. The steam curled around us, thick and warm, heavy in the air. Ama had told me Camilla cried herself to sleep on the floor last night. The image clung to me, heavy as guilt, pressing into my chest. The guilt had sat heavy in my gut all morning. I hadn