Page 52 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 1

I let out a harsh cough, sucking in huge bouts of air as I fisted my hands until my knuckles turned white. I would be no man’stoy. Alana had sworn up and down that I didn’t have to do anything that could harm me. I’d been treated like a plaything for someone to get their jollies off before.

I squeezed my eyes shut and instantly shut down the darkness encroaching from the memories as they tried to invade. The darkness was always there, digging its claws and prodding at my mind to find a weak spot to slip through and take over. It took everything I had to shove those experiences back into the safety deposit box where I kept them concealed. I’d locked them away within the deepest reaches of the vault that was my mind, never wanting them to see the light of day.

Not ever again.

I wasn’t that person anymore. No longer was I a terrified teenager with no choices. If the man who was to be my husband scared me, I wouldn’t sign the final contract. I still had one easy out, and I’d take it if I had to.

“Gentlemen, we do not air our grievances during the auction. One or both of you may be removed if this continues,” Alana stated, her authority over the room clear. She waited what felt like a full thirty seconds for the entire room to go silent before she smiled cooly. “Excellent. Let’s continue. I have seven million to bidder Number 38 going once…”

I held my breath.

“Going twice…”

I thought I might pass out right there on the stage.

“Sold to Mr. Davenport for seven million dollars. Maia, love, please exit the stage. There will be a member of my staff waiting to bring you to the signing room.”

My feet were glued to the shiny black floor. The rest of me as heavy as two tons as I stood there trembling, not able to believe what just happened.

I’d been sold to a man for seven million dollars.

I was going to be rich.

I was going to get married.

I was going to be some random wealthy man’s wife.

Davenport. The name bounced around in my head as I blinked against the glaring lights. I knew that name. I’d seen it on the driver’s license of the man I pickpocketed just yesterday. The hot “Zaddy”I’d used as my personal fantasy man when I got myself off in the shower just this morning.

There was no way the same man was here.

What if he was? What if he just bought me to get the money I stole back? Oh my god—what if I was going to walk off this stage and into a room filled with cops? I’d never be able to help my family if I was taken to jail.

He could hurt Maisie, too.

Sweat beaded on my hairline and under my arms as I panted, unable to get air into my lungs fast enough. A face I recognized, one that was safe, entered my line of vision.

“You okay,chéri?” Alana cooed, her brows furrowed.

I nodded on autopilot but didn’t speak.

“A little shocked at all that has happened?” she surmised, her tone concerned, not upset.

Again, I nodded, not wanting to share all the things I was frightened of, lest she kick me out of her fancy auction, costing me the best possible chance I’d ever have at saving my family or living a real life.

Seven million dollars.

“Could it really be true? The money…” I croaked.

She laughed out loud, curved an arm around my shoulders, and eased me toward the side of the stage. Her steps were sure while mine wobbled in heels I could barely walk in.

“It has happened. All your worries will be no longer. I know your bidder personally. It will be an experience to say the least.” She gave me a half smile.

Her reassurance helped, but the niggling fear wouldn’t abate. “There aren’t going to be any cops waiting to arrest me?” I whispered, my voice small and scared.

Abruptly, she turned around and held up a finger to the audience.

Shit, I was losing my cool on stage with the audience still present. I started to tremble, the need to run, to hide, toescapetingling at the edges of my nerve endings, demanding action.

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