Page 1 of Auctioned to the Titan

Chapter 1

Alice

I would kill for a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a book right now. Instead, I have on heels that are killing my feet and vague directions my father gave me for finding this place. Maybe I’ll get my wish after I finish my first ever waitressing shift at the same place my father works.I really hope these people tip better than they do at IHOP,I think as I almost laugh, finding it ironic that I actually miss working there. Smelling like bacon and getting hit on by drunks in the early morning hours isn’t my idea of fun, but at least working there was my choice. This, this is not my choice. I stop that train of that and study the large ornate door leading into the auction house.

Before I worry myself to death, I square my shoulders, ignore the unease this place gives me, and push the door open. The first thing I notice when I enter the auction house is the smell—a heady mix of cologne and alcohol.

The next thing is the way the men look at me as I step inside. While some barely spare me a glance, others analyze me like I’m one ofthe art pieces they’re here to buy. But not in a flattering way. In a way that makes my skin crawl.

I don’t think I should be here. At least not this part of the auction house. What have I walked into?

I remind myself why I’m here -guilt, duty, my future -pull myself together and walk up to a man in a crisp black suit.“Excuse me. I’m looking for Mr. Kirk. I’m supposed to be waiting tables tonight.”

He barely glances at me and just points down a narrow hallway. “Through there. Room at the end.”

“Thanks.”

My heart is thundering in my chest as I move down the hallway and find the last door. With a shaky hand, I turn the handle and open it, expecting to see a bustling kitchen or a staff room, but instead, I’m met with something entirely different.

Half-naked girls line the room, chattering away as they cake their faces with heavy makeup. A cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck as most heads turn toward the door. This can’t be right.

“Are you the new girl?” Someone asks.

I shake my head vigorously. “No. I’m not. I…I think I’m in the wrong place,” I stammer, stepping back. “I’m here for a waitressing job, not—”

“Alice Fray?”

A man with a bored look steps out from among the girls, with a file in his hand that has my picture.

“I am. Bu-”

“Perfect!” He exclaims dryly. “Take your clothes off and join them. The show is about to start.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You owe Mr. Kirk some kind of debt, don't you? If you don't want to make this difficult, I suggest you do as you're told."

Technically, I don't owe Mr. Kirk, my father does. But as I’m here instead, I guess it's the same thing.

“I’m just here to wait tables,” I object, more timidly than I’d like.

“Which is what all the other girls are here for. You, however, are much more valuable than that, aren’t you, Alice?”

The familiar voice comes from behind me, and I suppress my disgust as I turn to see Mr. Kirk.

He’s a tall, imposing man, in a navy blue suit. He looks at me with a weird smile that sends chills down my spine. It’s the same look he gives me every time he stops by to see my father; it’s a look that lets me know I’ll be doing what he wants whether I like it or not.

“Your father owes me a lot of money. You’re here to pay it off by diligently serving any man who pays for your…art.”

I freeze, every word slicing through me like ice. “What? No… no, that can’t be right.”

He frowns and cocks his head, looking genuinely sympathetic. “Your father sent you here without telling you that?”

“He wouldn’t… he couldn’t…”

I think about how my father has been feeling unwell, so much so that I delayed attending my first semester of college. When he reminded me he was paying for it, adding that hasn’t he sacrificed enough by raising me on my own after my mother took off, I knew the decision to stay was already made.

But I never imagined this was what he meant. Yet, the more I think about it, the truth is staring me in the face, cruel and unyielding. My father’s voice echoes in my head, as does the desperate look on his face when I left home a few hours ago.

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