Page 44 of Ruthless Reign

“I can assure you this treasure comes from a family of a high pedigree. She’s a good girl, but for the right man here tonight, she wants to be bad for the first time. And one of you lucky men will have the pleasure of corrupting her.”

An itch blooms under my skin and makes me feel like obliterating each and every man in this room.

Hearty chuckles and murmurs of approval spread through the audience, along with a smattering of applause. The men here are hungry—I can feel the predatory tension ripple through the audience.

“Are you ready to meet this fine jewel, gentlemen?” Paulina asks.

The man beside me yells out something about craving a taste of her innocence, and I shoot him a look so full of venom that he gets up and moves to the far side of the room.

“You all know how this works, so don’t be shy. This sweet peach will go quickly… and for a pretty penny. The bidding for her virginity starts at fifty thousand US dollars. Let’s see our rare beauty.”

A platform lowers from the ceiling as hollers and jeers explode around the room. My lungs can barely draw in a full breath as the woman being auctioned off comes into full view.

Poison spreads through my veins. It’ll be a miracle if I get through tonight without committing murder because they’re all staring at Liza like they have a chance in hell with her.

They don’t.

Blood will spill before anyone outbids me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

LIZA

Paulina warned me this would be the toughest part, and she was right. As the platform lowers onto the stage and I feel all eyes on me, I think I’m going to be sick. The one saving grace is that I can't see any of the audience members because of the bright spotlight on me. Yet even without seeing them, I sense their presence—leering, judging, assessing.

The moment the platform touches down, Paulina steps forward and takes my hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is our flower. A spring bloom, ripe and willing for the right man ... at the right price,” she adds with a naughty tone.

A sour sensation fills my stomach, but she holds eye contact. Her words say one thing, but her eyes say, Don’t focus on what’s happening out there. Just look at me. For that, I’m grateful.

She leads me across the stage to the right side of the platform, presenting me to the onlookers with a flourish that reminds me of those old car commercials where the presenter grandly reveals the new model. I’m the car in this scenario, and the audience eats it up.

I'm only half aware of a man—an auctioneer—taking his place at the podium. "Gentlemen, as previously stated, bidding for the chance to take the virginity of this beautiful woman in front of you starts at fifty thousand dollars. Kindly raise your hand to confirm your bid. Bidding opens now. Do I have fifty thousand? Excellent. Almost everyone in the room. Fantastic. Fifty-five; can I get fifty-five thousand dollars? Indeed, I can. Such enthusiasm.”

God, this is humiliating. Although, not as humiliating as what comes next.

“Lose the dress. We deserve to see the ass we’re bidding on,” someone shouts from the crowd, sparking a wave of laughter that churns my stomach.

Paulina warned me of this. That they’d want to see me strip, and I’d have to decide how much I wanted to bare.

The room reeks of cologne and whisky, amplifying my nausea, but… In for a penny, in for a pound.

I give Paulina a slight nod to indicate that she can help me take off my dress.

She moves behind me. Her hands are warm on my skin as she unfastens the hook of my dress at the top of the zipper. "You're doing great," she whispers, giving me a slight squeeze, before she slowly peels the fabric away, revealing the soft lace lingerie hugging my frame.

The dress slips down to the floor, and I step out of it with a mixture of reluctance and resolve.

The crowd breaks into applause, their eyes drinking me in as the barely there lace of my lingerie becomes visible, clinging to my curves, and accentuating every line of my body.

I must be frozen in place because Paulina gently touches my arm, steadying me. “You’re doing great,” she assures me in a quiet, calm voice.

Her encouragement helps me lift my chin with newfound boldness.

She leads me to the other side of the room, where I do a little spin despite my nerves, showing off my body to a roomful of strangers. There are more catcalls and jeers, but I block them out. This may be humiliating, but a lifetime with Anatoly is far worse.

“Show us your tits. I want to see the shade your nipples will turn when I suck on them,” a voice calls from the crowd.

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