Standing there behind Mitch, grinning at me, was my stepfather.
Mitch grinned as the horror spread over my face. “Surprise, princess,” he chuckled.
He dragged me up, yanking me to my feet and shoving me forward. There was Frank, and next to him, the creepy man with the scar I’d seen when I’d walked into my mother’s cabana that day back at the resort.
“Frank?!” I gasped, my eyes going wide in disbelief.
He smiled thinly.
“Are— are you here with the ransom?”
All three of them started laughing.
All of them, even Frank.
“Ransom?” He laughed as he walked over, shaking his head. Before I could even register it, his hand came up with a snap, slapping me sharply across the face.
“No, you little bitch,” he snarled. “There is no ransom.”
I blinked stars, stumbling back from the hit. “What?”
“But there is a sale to be made.” He grinned at me. “Sheik Abdul El Hassien Mukrahan, actually. The son of a nephew of, oh, fuck it, it doesn’t matter.”
Frank chuckled.
“Point is, it’s a win-win.” He leaned close. “You’re off my hands and away from your mother and her bank account, and I split the profits of this little transaction with Mitch here.”
My jaw dropped, almost unable to make words. I couldn’t believe it. Frank and I had never gotten along, but this? This was so much past that.
He was literally going to sell me into slavery to get to my mother’s money.
“Frank, please.”
“Nah, no deal.” He sneered. “I’ve made my deal already.” He nodded past me at Mitch. “Take her back to the cell. The Sheik will be arriving tomorrow for the auction.”
I was numb, like in a dream as they carried me back to the elevator. I felt nothing as they shoved me back down the hallway and back into my cell.
My only thought as the door to the cell was yanked open and I was pushed in was one word: Survival. I had to survive until that night, when Foster and Gareth and Zane would come—
“Uh-uh, no.”
Mitch leered at me from the doorway, chuckling and shaking his head. “I know what you’re thinking, princess.”
“No you don’t,” I said quietly, my eyes full of hate as I narrowed them at him.
“Trust me, I do. You’re thinking about those fucking clowns coming to break you out of here tonight.”
I froze, and he grinned wider.
“Remember what I said about getting close to people you shouldn’t?” He chuckled. “Trust me, princess. No one’s coming to rescue you.”
Chapter 18
Mitch was right.
No one came that night.
No Zane, no Gareth, and no Foster.
Instead, I spent the night awake, trying to hold back the tears and the crushing feeling of losing.
I was still numb the next morning as two guards came to grab me. They pulled me to my feet and led me out of the cell and down the hallway, until we got to the bathing room.
This time, mercifully, a woman helped me. The guards even actually turned away as she helped me out of my clothes and into the tub, getting my hair and my back.
After the scrub, she had me dress in black lingerie similar to what I’d worn before the previous day. Another woman came in as well, helping the first as they did my hair and makeup in front of a mirror they’d wheeled in.
I looked stunning, but the thought made me sick.
I looked stunning so that I would sell for a higher price to some sick bastard who thought women were purchasable commodities.
They left abruptly when they were finished, and the two guards returned to take me down the long walk to the auction room.
Still numb. Still cold.
And with every step, I knew with more and more certainty that there was no rescue coming. There was no dramatic and heroic crashing of my heroes through a door to save me.
This was it. There was no light at the end of this tunnel.
The doors to the auction room opened silently, and I shivered as I was led in. They moved me to the center, bending to secure my ankles to the loops in the floor. There was no harness this time, but there I was, tethered like a slave for sale.
Because I was.
The lights dimmed, and I could feel eyes on me. I glanced over to see Frank, the creepy guy, and Mitch leering from a dark corner of the room. Mitch blew me a sickening kiss as he reached for what had to be a microphone.
“Good evening, gentleman,” his voice came across the loudspeakers, and I knew each of those mirror-walled rooms had his voice in them as well.
“Tonight, we have this lovely for sale. Cassandra is her name, but you may call her whatever you choose.”
I shivered, looking at the floor.
“Shall we start the bidding at—”
A light suddenly went on above one of the mirrors with a small chime. Two others followed immediately.
I turned to see Mitch grinning eagerly. “Excellent, we begin at two-hundred-thousand, and now we move to two-fifty.”
The first light and chime went on, quickly followed by the same other two again.”
Frank rubbed his hands together.
“Three-hund—”
The same light and chime came through again before he could even finish his sentence, and my heart sank. I knew this was the Sheik bidding, and the grins on Mitch and Frank’s faces said I was right.
“Do I hear four-hundred?”
Four lights and bells went on.
“Five-hundred?”
The sheik’s light went on, and none followed this time.
Mitch whistled lowly. “Final offer. Five-hundred-thousand for this feisty item.”
No more lights went on, and the whole place went silent until I heard the word that sank like a knife into my heart.
“Sold.”
Sold.
I was sold.
I felt like I was going to pass out as the two guards came over again and unlocked me. I turned, my eyes searching my stepfather’s face.
“Frank, please.”
But he only shook his head. “Nice knowing you, Cass. I'll tell your mother the car crash you died in was quick.”
The tears I’d been desperately holding back fell then, streaming down my face. Two men in dark suits, middle-eastern head-coverings, and sunglasses grabbed my arms and hustled me out of the room, down the hall, out a set of doors. A limo was waiting for us, and they quickly threw me in, one sliding in after me and the other going for the driver’s door.
I froze.
The sheik himself was in there with his face and head covered with a scarf and sunglasses.
Just staring at me.
“Please,” I whispered pitifully, but he raised a hand and shook his head.
We drove for a few minutes in silence, before I heard a plane engine.
The airfield.
I was pulled from the car as we stopped, gasping as I glanced up at the private jet already waiting and ready on the runway.
Oh God, this was it. This was my fate.
They started to pull me towards the staircase, and suddenly, something snapped in me.
No, this was not my fate — not if I had anything to say about it. Because if there was one thing I was going to take away from having met my three outlaws, it was to never back down.