My breath hitches, and a wave of nausea hits me. I want to scream, to tell them all to shut up, but I’m paralyzed.
The auctioneer chuckles. “Ah, she maylookthat way but whoever takes her tonight would find that she’s quite… untouched.”
A ripple of excitement runs through the room, and I want to crawl out of my skin. My stomach twists; I press a hand against it, willing myself not to be sick.
The bidding starts.
“$10,000.”
“$20,000.”
“$50,000.”
“$100,000.”
I stare at the floor, willing myself not to cry, not to break. Every number they shout feels like a knife, each one cutting deeper, reminding me that I’m nothing more than a price tag now. My dignity, my freedom… all for sale. And my own father put me in this position.
“$150,000!” another voice calls, and the room falls silent. My head snaps up to see the man who placed the bid. He looks like he’s well over fifty. He has a smug look on his face, sure of himself, like he knows he’s going to win. The crowd seems to sense it, too.
For some reason, I look at Mr. Dark and Dangerous. I don’t know why, but I just look at him with pleading eyes. I don’t even know the man, but for some reason I need him to be my knight in shining armor.
His expression is different now as he leans forward. What used to be a plain, indifferent look is now replaced with something else. Irritation?
His gaze flickers toward the auctioneer, and I swear I see him clench his jaw.
Without warning, he stands up.
“$500,000.”
The room gasps, and my heart stops. The man’s voice is deep and commanding and carries a lethal edge that makes me want to cower and run into his arms at the same time. The finality in his tone leaves no room for argument. The competition is over.
The auctioneer stumbles over his words, clearly shocked. “S-sold. For $500,000.”
The hammer drops, and just like that, my fate is sealed.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
I feel like I’m in a dream as they usher me off the stage into a room with spare furniture: a couch, a chair, and in the corner… a bed. I hug myself, trying to calm my racing heart. I hope it’s not what I’m thinking.
“You should have come by sooner,” I hear Mr. Kirk’s laugh before the door creaks open. Kirk continues, blocking the doorway from another man, “You should inspect her…” Kirk looks over his shoulder at me, a leer on his face, “make sure she’s intact.”
The man I saw from the stage pushes past Kirk. He is even more intimidating up close, but I can’t help but feel relieved as he enters the room and slams the door, leaving just the two of us.
He’s taller than I imagined, easily over six feet, and his presence fills the small space. His black suit clings to him in all the right places, highlighting his broad chest, strong arms, and lean waist. There’s an elegance to the way he moves—smooth, controlled, almost predatory.
My heart starts racing again. But this time, it feels like for a different reason. For a second, neither of us speaks. Then he breaks the silence.
“Damon.”
“What?”
“My name. It’s Damon.”
Then the name clicks. Damon. As in Demon Damon. The man the girls were talking about.
I think I’m going to pass out.
Chapter 2