I shivered, hands still meekly trying to cover myself.
The men surrounding me, dressed in suits and sitting in sumptuous chairs sipping drinks, were basically the same crowd from the club earlier. Handsome, rich, and exuding power. As the lights centered on me, they all drew their eyes to me, and suddenly I had about thirty pairs of eyes just drinking me in.
My head spun, and my eyes darted across the crowd, feeling the pressure and the fear getting bigger and bigger and bigger until— Until my eyes came to a stop, and I froze.
Because dead center, right in front of me, were the three men from the club — the three men who’d commanded that room back there, and seemed to do the same here. The one’s who’d stepped in when Ryan had gone too far.
And I wanted to think of this as a good sign — that my heroes were here, but then the reality hit me.
Yeah, they were here alright — here at the fucking Auction House.
And looking at me like that.
Like they wanted to devour me.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” A woman’s voice purred over the room through speakers, pulling my attention from the three men.
“Welcome to the Auction House,” the bodiless voice sounded stern and yet elegant — cultured and schooled.
“Tonight, we offer a very special surprise for you all. After certain events earlier in the evening, Mr. Cunningham the senior has seen to it that a proper bidding take place for this young woman.”
All the eyes in the room turned and leveled at me.
“Mia Thorne, aged twenty-four.”
My jaw dropped.
“Natural blonde, blue eyes, feisty.”
Feisty, huh?
“Tenacity and willingness to fight.” The woman’s voice chuckled through the speakers. “A kitten with claws, gentlemen.”
A laugh tittered through the crowd.
“No previous ownership. She comes as is, with no formal training, and tonight, we start the bidding at one-hundred thousand. Mr. Jorry, if you would?”
Behind me, the Brit chuckled, and I shivered, straining against collar as I felt his hand pull at my arms, forcing them to drop to my sides.
“Best keep them there if you’re smart,” he husked into my ear.
And just like that, I was standing in just lacy, see-through black lingerie in front of a room full of strange men.
Oh my God.
And suddenly the reality of all this came starkly into focus. Suddenly, everything about it hit me that I really was on the auction block, ready to be sold to one of the men in this room.
I heard a cough, and I glanced over to see Ryan, off to one side and grinning as he raised a hand.
“Wonderful,” the voice purred. “One hundred thousand, from Mr. Cunningham. And do I hear—”
Another hand raised behind him.
“Excellent, one-hundred and fifty thousand to Mr. Trussel.”
“Two hundred thousand,” Ryan growled, shifting in his chair and scowling.
The man behind him coughed again. “Three hundred.”
“Still mad about last month, Trussel?” Ryan smirked as he turned back and lifted a hand. “Four hundred thousand.”
And just like that, I watched my fate start to play out between two male egos. I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins, my body freezing bit by bit as the price climbed higher, and the two men grew more irate with each other.
“Nine-hundred thousand,” the voice said quietly.
Ryan smirked, glancing back at Mr. Trussel, who shook his head.
“Mr. Cunningham always gets his way, luv,” Jorry chuckled into my ear, still standing behind me on the stage, holding my collar.
“Going once?” The voice questioned. “Twice.”
“One million.”
My eyes snapped up at the voice.
The voice I knew.
I gasped as the blonde man, of the trio, locked his eyes to mine. He grinned hungrily.
“One million.”
“Well then,” the woman’s voice sounded surprised. “Mr. Lawson, topping Mr. Cunningham at one million.”
Jorry chuckled in my ear. “Oh, sweetheart,” he clucked his tongue. “You’ve got them three bidding on you now. Now them?” He chuckled again. “Them you don’t want.”
My eyes went wide.
“You see, them three, they work as a team, you might say. A three-man team.”
I swallowed thickly.
“If they get you?” He whistled lowly. “Oh, will they break you in.”
Something tightened inside of me, my body shivering, and I wasn’t sure if it was horror or…well, something else that flickered through me at the thought of those three powerful men from the club taking me.
Owning me.
Breaking me in.
Ryan’s face turned savage as he glared across the shadowed room at the blonde man. “One point one million.”
“One point two.” The dark haired, blue-eyed man who Ryan had referred to as “Blackwood” earlier, raised his hand.
Ryan fumed. “One five, you pricks.” He growled before turning and letting his eyes burn into me.
The third man, the one with the brooding darkness surrounding him, suddenly rose.
“I’m tired of this.”
My heart sank, before I realized how silly it was that I’d somehow been hoping they won. As absurd as it was, during the bidding, I’d been secretly hoping Ryan lost. There were three of them, that I knew. And I knew they scared me, and that the power they seemed to wrap themselves in sent shivers of something terrifying through my body.
But I also knew if Ryan won this, and me, I was done for. I’d never see my family again, that I knew for sure, just by looking at him.
The third man shook his head. “Yes, I’m tired of this.”
Ryan grinned triumphantly.
“So I’m going to stop this now.” His smiled darkly at Ryan before he turned his eyes to me.
All three of them did, and I felt myself melt under those dark, fierce gazes.
“Two million.”
Oh, God.
Ryan’s jaw dropped as he sputtered. “Two point on—”
“Two and a half,” the blonde man, Lawson, said effortlessly before turning to smile thinly at Ryan. “We can do this all night, Cunningham.”
There was a chuckle through the crowed, and Ryan’s face turned dark red. “This isn’t fair,” he hissed. “There are fucking three of—”
“And yet, you’re the one who brought her into this,” the dark-haired, dark-eyed, yet-unnamed third man growled at him before glancing up into the dark ceiling of the room, as if addressing the bodiless announcer’s voice somewhere up there. “Are we done here?”
There was a long pause, and silence.
“The bid is two point five million,” she finally said, devoid of emotion. “Do I hear two-six?”
Ryan fumed, muttering under his breath and kicking at his chair.
“Going once.”
“You fucking cocksuckers, I swear to God—”
“Going twice.”
Ryan sat.
“Sold.”
The room spun, and I felt as though I might pass out as the word cut through me like a knife.
Sold.