Page 18 of My Soul for Sale

“The bidding is over. If you won, your tablet will now notify you so you can complete the payment. Virtue, please leave the stage.”

The brunette leaves the stage, stumbling slightly on her heels. I look over at my dad and I think we’re both thinking the same thing.

We might be in over our heads.

“Ten million dollars? We don’t have that kind of coin,” I whisper.

“Well, then we don’t buy anything. At least we can check this off our bucket list.” He smirks.

“Okay! What an amazing first lot. I knew her innocence would be sought after. There might be another cherry or two in the lineup. You’ll have to wait and see. But let’s bring our next lot to the stage. Lot two is Birdie.”

What a weird name to use at a sex auction. Virtue I got, but I thought they’d all have names like Diamond, Rain, or Foxy. Not Birdie.

“Holy fucking hell,” my dad gasps.

My attention snaps to him. He’s holding the tablet up like he can’t see it clearly.

What the hell?

I look up at the stage and my stomach rolls. I’m going to throw up.

“Birdie is twenty-three. She’s a size fourteen with forty-D breasts. Curves for days here, ladies and gentlemen. A fun personality, standing at five foot six and blue eyes.”

Sloane.

I’ve been searching for years and there she is, looking as sexy as ever on the stage, selling her fucking body for money. My step-sister.

My cock stiffens in my pants at the sight of her. She’s wearing a royal blue lace set that hugs every lickable curve of her body.

“Bid,” I hiss, looking at my dad.

“Why is she up there?” he asks, but I don’t answer. Instead, I rip the tablet from his hands and hit the bid button myself.

No one is taking her home but me.

Seven hundred fifty thousand.

Outbid.

My next bid would be eight hundred fifty, but more than one person is bidding, so now I have to go one million.

Fuck!

I don’t have a million dollars. I’m gripping the tablet so hard my knuckles are white and I’m afraid I might crack the damn screen.

“Thirty seconds!”

I’m going to jail.

No way am I leaving here, knowing that Sloane is going home to fuck someone else. I’ll kill someone.

Dad leans over and taps the bid button and I snap my head in his direction, staring at him.

“A bid in at the last minute. Someone has spent a lot of time on eBay!” the emcee jokes. “Thank you, Birdie.”

My eyes are glued to Sloane’s ass; it jiggles slightly as she prances off the stage. I don’t even know if we won. I’m still reeling over the fact that after seven years of tirelessly obsessing and searching, my woman just fell into my lap.

“Breathe, son,” my dad whispers, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. He nods at the tablet and I hesitantly move my eyes back to the screen.

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