They didn't drag me.
They walked me out like I was expensive.
Like I was fragile glass.
The hallway outside the auction room was quiet. Thick carpets. Soft lighting. Gold frames on the walls. Whoever ran this place liked luxury.
Or liked pretending sin could look beautiful.
I didn't speak.
Neither did they.
The elevator doors opened without a sound. I stepped inside. One guard pressed a button. Top floor.
Of course.
My reflection in the mirror barely looked like me. My hair messy. My lips pale. But my eyes…
My eyes were alive.
Good.
Let him see that.
The elevator opened into a private lounge. Dark wood. Floor-to-ceiling windows. The city glittered below like nothing terrible had happened tonight.
And he was there.
Standing near the window.
Back turned.
Hands in his pockets.
Tall. Still. Controlled.
The guards released my wrists and stepped back.
I didn't rub them.
I wouldn't show weakness.
"You can leave."
His voice was low.
Smooth.
The guards obeyed instantly.
The door closed.
And suddenly, it was just us.
My buyer.
And me.
He didn't turn around immediately.
"I expected you to cry," he said calmly.
I folded my arms slowly. "Disappointed?"
A pause.
Then he turned.
For a second, my breath caught.
Not because he was handsome.
But because he looked… untouchable.
Sharp jaw. Dark eyes. Clean suit. No wasted movement.
Danger, wrapped in control.
His gaze traveled over me slow. Assessing.
Not lustful.
Calculating.
"You're braver than the others," he said.
The others.
So this wasn't new.
I swallowed but kept my chin lifted. "If you wanted someone weak, you overpaid."
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
Not a smile.
Something more dangerous.
"I never overpay."
His eyes locked onto mine fully now.
And something shifted in the air.
Like this wasn't just a transaction.
Like this was chess.
"Why did you buy me?" I asked.
Silence.
He walked toward me.
Slow.
Measured.
Each step controlled.
I didn't step back.
Even when he stopped close enough that I could feel his presence.
Close enough to see the faint scar near his eyebrow.
Close enough to smell something clean. Expensive.
"You ask bold questions," he murmured.
"I don't like being confused."
His hand lifted slightly.
For a moment, I thought he would touch me.
He didn't.
Instead, he tilted his head.
"You really don't recognize me?"
My stomach tightened.
The way he said it…
Not casual.
Personal.
"I've never seen you before."
That wasn't entirely true.
There was something about him.
Something familiar.
His jaw hardened slightly.
"Your father recognized me."
The world stopped.
My pulse pounded in my ears.
"What did you say?"
His eyes didn't blink.
"I was there the night he died."
The air left my lungs.
No.
No.
My fingers curled into fists.
"You—"
"Yes," he said calmly. "I'm the man you've been looking for."
The room felt smaller.
The city lights behind him blurred.
This wasn't coincidence.
This wasn't random.
He didn't buy me because I was valuable.
He bought me because I was his unfinished business.
I stepped closer instead of away.
My voice came out steady.
"If you killed him, you should've killed me too."
Something flashed in his eyes then.
Not anger.
Not regret.
Something darker.
"You think I would spend one hundred and fifty thousand just to kill you?"
My heart pounded harder.
"Then why?"
He leaned closer.
Close enough that his shadow fell over my face.
"Because," he said quietly, "you're going to be far more useful alive."