The Gamble of the Elite

Mia's Point Of View

 I gaze at the reflection in the mirror, my hands shaking but a little as they made precise adjustments to the delicate gold chain resting on my chest. The red dress was shaped around me like a second skin, silk hugging every inch of me, slipping on easily down to the ground with a cutaway that showed just enough of a leg to left me shy.The golden stilettos made me taller, and they imbued me with an air of power but left me with a weirdly exposed feeling as well.

I exhaled. This was it.

Someone knocked on the doorbell, and I grabbed my little gold bag, heading out.

A black sedan was waiting outside the door to my apartment building, its shiny face mirrored the city landscape. A chauffeur in a uniform stepped out, opening the door with a courteous bow.

"Miss Mia, Mr. Knight had have this escort wait to give you a ride."

I hesitated for half a second before I ducked inside. In here wasn't short on luxury—black leather couches, mini bar, soft lighting that made the whole room feel like flying on a private plane.

The car zoomed along the city streets, my own heart pounding hard against my chest with excitement. This was not a party.

This was Alexander Knight's kingdom. And I was walking right into it. The moment I stepped out of the car, the world froze.

Cameras snapped, whispers murmured, and I ft a hundred eyes scanning me from head to toe.

The building itself was a humongous glass building, glowing like the moonlit fantasies that it was made of. There was a huge golden chandelier suspended over the entrance, its lights casting a soft veil of radiance over the people entering.

I walked tall as I ascended the marble steps. Doormen in their glossy black uniforms lowered their heads respectfully as they ushered the door open for me.

The reception within was resplendent. Crystal chandelier suspended between ceilings of large rooms poured champagne over fashionably dressed elite who sipped unconcerned draught. White-shirted waiters carried trays of the most delectable hors d'oeuvre, and a gentle symphony filled the air. But something was off. The air vibrated with tension that had nothing to do with partying.

It wasn't some other bash. And then it struck me—this wasn't some party. It was a casino for the world's rich. But not on cash.

No. They were betting art, diamonds, brains, crafts, treasures. This was where the rich bet away history itself. A chill ran down my spine.

I was still trying to get my mind around what I had gotten myself into when I saw them—three men, expensive suits, their eyes fixed on me like predators who finally had caught their prey. There was one, a gray-haired older gentleman with a cigar jammed between his teeth, who smiled as he walked toward me.

"You're new around here," he snarled, eyes raking over me with a shiver that crawled my skin in irritation. "A new face among wolves." I stepped back, my heart pounding. Another man chuckled. "Perhaps she's here for the auction?" I was going to snap at him when a tight, familiar hand wrapped around my wrist.

"She's with me." Alexander's voice was a knife, cutting through words like a blade. The men stiffened as a group, their smirks melting away.

"Aha." the man with the silver hair said, throwing up his arms in mock surrender. "Didn't know she was yours , knight." Alexander's hold on my wrist tightened as he pulled me hard against him, his big body interposing itself between us and them.

"She is not a bet to be made," he informed them brusquely. "I believe you'd do well to remember that." And with that, he turned and swept me away, striding swiftly. My head was reeling. What on earth had just happened? Why had he jumped in like that? He was my boss, not my guardian angel. I looked up at him, shocked and stunned."you didn't have to jump in like that."

His grip did not ease. "Yes, I did." His tone did not invite debate. I pushed down the awkward lump in my throat and trailed after him deeper into the party. Alexander brought me to a high-end bar, where a group of stylishly attired women and men reclined, sipping expensive whiskey and brokering deals that would topple governments.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he declared dryly, his tone weighed with a seriousness that required to be heard. "I introduce you to my new assistant, Mia." I bristled. Assistant?

What was I now? Polished, a smile followed, but I sensed their eyes peeling me to the core, measuring my worth. Alexander removed from his suit jacket a black box. He placed it on the table with a dominant move, demanding all eyes on it.

"I have something extremely precious to sell tonight," he declared. I noticed him opening the box with ease. And took my breath away. Inside my painting. The one I painted that morning at the office.

The masterpiece that I had labored over. My stomach fell. A gasp of wonder went around the room as they gazed at the painting. "This work of art," Alexander continued, "is one-off. A display of sheer talent and vision."

The auction started immediately. A hundred million. Two hundred million. Five hundred million.It went on, higher and higher, until the final bid hit a record two billion dollars. I'd been punched in the stomach. My work. My labor of love. And he'd sold it, so readily. I approached him, my words barely above a breath. "You sold my painting?" He didn't flinch. "Yes."

My hands were curled into fists. "Without consulting me first?" He took a deep breath, finally meeting my eyes. "Mia, this is business." Something within me snapped.

"So that's how you treat me? As a business deal?" He looked at me for a beat, his face impassive. "You signed the contract." I wanted to scream.

I wanted to rip up that Goddamn contract and leave.But I couldn't.I was bound.And my work, my soul, belonged to him now. I looked away, gagging on the bitter wedlock in my throat. This world was not mine. I did not belong. And at last, for the first time since I'd signed the bargain, I realized how much I'd lost.