Chapter 3

Inside the sleek, glass-walled conference room, several men sat around a massive screen. The image displayed on it made my blood run cold.

It was me naked.

"Silas, look at Jovie's body," one of them leered, voice thick with lust. "Smooth as silk. She’s going to fetch a hell of a price."

Another chimed in, eyes gleaming with greed. "Ten million already—and this is just the pre-auction! Tomorrow’s going to blow the city apart."

Silas sat with his arm draped around Mira, who lounged beside him in a blood-red silk dress. She looked like a rose blooming in hell—stunning and poisonous.

He didn’t even glance at the screen.

“Let them inspect the goods tonight,” he said flatly. “Sell her for the highest price tomorrow. Use the money to buy Mira that estate she’s been eyeing.”

Mira giggled, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You always spoil me.”

Silas’s eyes darkened, and he crushed his lips on hers in a possessive kiss. “If you hadn’t left back then, you’d be my wife now.”

She let out a soft moan and clung to him. “Then divorce her. Marry me.”

He snorted coldly. “It’s not me—it’s Grandma. She won’t allow it.”

Their bodies tangled as they kissed more deeply, unaware or uncaring of the others still in the room. Slowly, the others slipped out, one by one, leaving only the sounds of rain, thunder, and their lovemaking echoing off the walls.

And me—frozen on the other side of the screen.

I stared at my phone, watching the live feed with a trembling hand. My stomach twisted violently.

Silas Creed—the man who once claimed he had a phobia of germs—was licking the soles of Mira’s feet.

And those same men who laughed while bidding on me… they looked at me like I was nothing but meat.

A sharp pang ripped through my chest, and darkness swallowed everything.

When I woke, the storm outside had passed, but my body felt like it had absorbed the cold. My head throbbed. My limbs were heavy.

Then I heard the click of the lock.

Silas walked in, tall and immaculate as ever. His eyes flicked over me with cold disdain.

“You blush just from seeing me now? You’re really desperate, huh?” he mocked.

He tossed his tailored jacket to the floor and started rolling up his sleeves. “Get ready. We’re going to an auction tonight. I’ll give you what you want.”

I felt the color drain from my face. My voice cracked. “I’m not going. Take Mira.”

He scoffed. “Don’t be childish. Mira’s coming too. She even picked out some jewelry for you. Isn’t that sweet of her?”

I stood shakily, my only instinct to run.

But he grabbed my wrist and yanked me back. “Jealous again? Over the past? You’re really pathetic.”

“I’m not jealous,” I whispered.

“Then quit acting like a wild animal in heat!” he shouted, dragging me into the bathroom.

Before I could react, ice-cold water poured over my head. I gasped, shivering violently as the cold soaked me through.

“I’m not going!” I screamed, trying to push him away.

A sharp crack echoed through the bathroom as his hand connected with my cheek.

Pain exploded across my face. My knees buckled.

His voice was venomous. “Did you think you had a choice?”

Like a broken doll, I was dressed up in some skin-tight designer gown and shoved into a luxury black SUV. He sat across from me, silent and composed.

Then he pulled out an alcohol wipe and began slowly cleaning his hands—each finger, each palm.

The disgust in his expression was all too familiar.

“You don’t need boiling water to disinfect anymore,” he said coldly.

I turned my face to the window, tears burning in my eyes.

“Just soak your filthy self in alcohol next time.”

My fingers trembled as I unlocked my phone. I scrolled to the very top of my contact list and typed one sentence.

Help me.