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They escort a girl out the door, and the auctioneer says, “Bidding will start at half a million, with increments of a hundred thousand.”
As the young girl steps into the light, my eyes widen. Some people gasp while others murmur. I see out of the corner of my eye that Killian looks smug. In the guise of adjusting myself to sit up straighter, I signal to Toby that we need that distraction because the girl up for auction is my brother-in-law's daughter.
Anastasia.
Chapter 9 - Anastasia
The bright light glares in my eyes as I try to see around the room, but the people looking at me are in the shadows. I can’t make out who’s sitting in front of me. I’m forced to turn on the spot so they can see me for all my glory, and I can’t stop myself from shaking in fear and cold.
I want to be brave and true to my lineage, but I think I’ve gotten myself into a situation that not even my father can get me out of.
Then the guy says that the bidding will start at half a million, and I know that whoever gets me will make me suffer for my father to see. I hang my head in shame—I’d sooner die than be someone’s slave.
The shouts echo off the room, and they make me feel dizzy. I wish I could say I recognize the voices, but none of them sound familiar. One stands out only because it sounds like the man has a Scottish or Irish accent. I’m terrible with accents. I can’t tell the difference. The bids start increasing by one and two hundred thousand dollars at a time.
Everything is feeling rushed and heavy, but I notice some voices stop bidding. My head swings between two spots as only two voices bid on me. Did they say three million four hundred thousand dollars? It’s two men arguing over who gets the pleasure of owning me when one of them shouts, “Five million dollars right now.”
The auctioneer shouts, “Sold to Brother Death! Enjoy her, my friend.”
I realize that the whole time I thought the auctioneer was someone random, but it wasn’t. It is Mateo Catalan. The Mateo!
There are shouts from other bidders, and the man who lost shouts in what sounds like a Spanish accent that this is unfair, and Mateo announces loudly that the auction is done for the night.
While they argue, the man who won shouts, “I’m taking my prize. You lost, and I won.” He walks toward me—tall and bulky in the shadows—but as he walks under the light, I see a familiar face.
Luigi.
Profanities break out, but one voice, an Irish voice, raises above them to shout, “That’s a Sorvino buying a Volkov back. If we let them out, there will be war.”
Luigi whips around to look at the spot the Irish voice came from. Mateo steps forward. “Mr. Sorvino, unfortunately, you have placed us in a situation. Your bid on this young lady is now invalid.”
I watch as Luigi shrugs. “Meh.”
Did he really just say meh?
A fire suddenly roars out of nowhere, focused mainly from the back. I’m dazed, but Luigi grabs my arm as the fire alarm goes off. He pulls me hard toward a side exit but has to stop and pull me down as shots ring out, all aimed at us.
I put my hands over my ears but vaguely hear Luigi’s voice.
He pulls me to my feet, and I glance back. Two men are covering us as Luigi drags me to the door. They are backing up to the door, following us. Luigi doesn’t stop to ask any questions, he pulls me like a rag doll, and I start to feel sick again.
I am dizzy as we race through the hallways, trying to reach the main exit. We pause at one corner, and one of the guards tosses Luigi a gun. “Sneaked it in passed the idiot guards.”
“Can I have one?” I ask stupidly.
“Quiet,” Luigi snaps at me. I meet his eyes, which are burning with a rage I’ve never seen in him.
“Because of you, our job here failed, which I will pay for, and we might die. So I need to get us out here, and you’re just going to keep your head down and follow me.” He looks at the men standing with us. “Toby. Clint. Distract the guards, please. Let me get the princess out of here.”
I feel so filthy when he calls me princess, especially dressed the way I am right now. While the men distract the guards, Luigi pulls me into the nearest room. He picks up a chair, throws it through a window, and then leans through it to check that the outside is clear. I stand helpless and shivering until he returns to help me through the window. I wince as I cut my bare foot on the ragged glass, but I get out, and Luigi follows.
There is chaos, with people running everywhere. I limp after Luigi, trying not to cry out. We reach the nearest car, and Luigi quickly checks it. “There are keys. Get in.”
I climb into the passenger side and ask, “What about your men? Toby and Clint?”
“They’re trained. They’ll get themselves home. My concern was to sort out a problem for my family, but now I have to get you out of here.” He sounds annoyed, and I want to react, but at the moment, I feel an immense sense of relief that I’m not in someone else’s possession.
Luigi drives us off the property without a backward glance. We don’t speak. He just drives down the dark road with the lights dimmed. He did turn the heater on for me, though. Eventually, I can’t take it anymore and have to say something, so I ask, “Are you taking me home?”
