CHAPTER FIVE

AMANDA POV

A sharp knock against the door snappede from my haze.

"Lot#27. You're next." A handler – tall, bored, suited – unlocked the gate. I stood my knees. The security guards grabbed me. I had no strength to yell, shoutbor fight – it didn't come to my mind.

The grand doors creaked open. All head stunned. I was dragged in like a criminal. My feet scrapped against the marble floor, one heel missing, the other dangling loosely.

The room went still. Even the auctioneer paused mid sentence, his voice caught like a lie in his throat.

A cruel hush washed over the crowd, followed by a ripple of laughter – dry and amused. Like watching a show that had taken a dark and disdainful turn.

"She tried to run," one of the guard announced, his voice echoing through the room like a gavel.

"But don't worry gentlemen, she's back. And still available."

I was dropped in the centre, like a discarded prize. My knees hit the cold floor with a crack.

The auctioneer smiled tightly, adjusted his gold cufflinks.and leaned into the mike.

"A feisty one as you can see. Untamed. Rare."

I scanned the crowd – rows of suits aged eyes gleaming with hunger and power. Mask of wealth hiding monsters.

Some bidders whispering. Others simply stared,accessing me like a live stock. My share, my blood, my fight – none of it mattered to them.

"Let's resume," the auctioneer announced. Clapping his hands as of nothing has happened.

"Starting bid –six hundred thousand."

"Six ten." A voice from the third row.

Then another. My jaw frightened. My body might be on that stage, but my spirit – what remained of it was already somewhere else. Some where faraway. Whispering to me that this wasn't the end.

The number kept rising . My stomach turned. I didn't worth this much. Not to normal bidders. Something's wrong.

The bidding had reached. six hundred and eighty thousand. I could barely breathe. My hands were shaking, but my skin was still lifted. Eyes dry, lips tight.

The auctioneer voice rang out like a bell.

"Did I hear one million?" Then came the shift. Slow ripple of tension filled the room. As a man at the back row raised his hand – slowly, lazily, no number spoken. Just a quiet gesture like swatting away a fly. He was dressed in all black. Suit tailored to perfection. Silver ring glinted in his right hand. The auctioneer cleared his throat

"Sold— to him." Silence erupted the room. No one challenged it. People shifted. Cleared their throats, adjusted their ties. Even the wealthiest bidders sat back, suddenly unsure.

I didn't know him. But, the tension in the air, told me everything I need to know.

This wasn't just another rich buyer.

This man owned people who own people.

"MAFIA!"

The auction ended with a single word

"Sold."

I was escorted down the back hall way. As I pass by I saw some men, enjoying themselves with girls and drinks. And I'm sure they are the Same who must have seen the exhibition of my life.

The handler unlocked my wrist, and handed me to a woman in black.

I caught one last glance at Zaria. Her lips barely move

"Stay alive."

Soon, we arrived at a small lounge, where buyers collects their lot.

"Congratulations." She said without smiling.

"Thank you." I murmured.

"Your buyer will meet you outside. Don't speak unless spoken to . Don't touch him."

My eyes went round her face, searching for the answer.

"Why?"

She hesitated then leaned in .

"He's... sensitive."

"Sensitive?" My brow tightened.

"Allergic."she whispered. "To women."

I laughed. I couldn't help it.

"Then why did he buy me?"

She didn't answer.

Just handed me a coat and turned away.

Outside, the air was freezing. Night pressed heavy against the trees. The mansion glowing behind me unreal.

A slick black car pulled up. The back door open. A shadow in a tailored suit came out. Pale skin. Gloved hand. Eyes that burned too sharp for the dark.

I got in. Not because I wanted to. But because, there's nothing worth staying there.

He didn't speak. Didn't look at me. But when the door closed and the lock clicked into place.

Something inside me whispered this was not the worst day of my life. The part hadn't started yet.

I held his gaze. I refuse to look away. Neither of us spoke for a while. The only sound was the low hum of tyres on the road.

He turned slowly, eyes sharp, grey like ash. Not lustful –calculating. Like he was measuring my weight in blood.

My eyes locked on his. Defiance wrapped in stillness.

"What's your name?" He asked voice low.

I stared back. " You know what they call me?"

"I didn't ask what they called you? I asked what you call yourself?" He stared back, his smile was slow. Dangerous. Impressed.

"You're smarter than most." He chuckles.

"You don't break easily." He said with a gentle smile.

"You were sold." He said calmly.

"I bought you that's the reality."

"Right. I forgot. Thought you acquired me like something on a shelf" I snapped.

His eye brows twitched.

"I didn't buy you for what you're worth. I bought you because no one else did. Besides I don't need another girl on a leash." He said

I tensed. Every word felt like a test.

"D-d-does it feel good owning some one?" I asked

"No."

I laughed smart and bitter.

"Then why?"

His jaw tightened slightly.

"You'll understand in time." He said.

"I doubt that." I muttered.

I flinched. He noticed and smiled.

"That's exactly what I need."

My voice was raw.

"For what?"