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The neckline of her dress plunges in a bold declaration, showcasing the generous swell of her cleavage.
Each breath she takes seems to beckon, drawing the eye and stirring a deep, primal longing within me.
The slit of the dress, audaciously high, offers teasing glimpses of her shapely legs.
Her hair, a cascade of dark waves, frames her face in an almost ethereal manner, throwing her strikingly feminine features into relief.
When her gaze locks with mine, there’s an electric thrill, a momentary connection that speaks volumes. Her eyes, alight with confidence and a hint of fear, seem to challenge and invite me all at once.
She is the embodiment of every desire that has ever whispered through my mind. It’s not just attraction that she inspires.
It’s an all-consuming need, a yearning that tightens my chest and sends a rush of heat through my veins. I want to fuck her and protect her from harm.
Vincent is on stage, calling once, twice. I smile.
She’s mine.They all got the message. No one else is to bid on her.
I spot the asshole himself—Richard Delaney. He gives me a smug smile before raising his hand.
You insufferable prick. Don’t you fucking—
“Two million dollars.” Delaney’s words slice the air like knives, and everyone looks at him.
He must believe his business dealings with the Russians will protect him, or he wouldn’t dare pull a stunt like this.
He’s no idea the lengths I’ll go to make sure Amelia is mine.
“Three million,” I say.
Without shifting my gaze from the unfolding drama, I lean slightly towards Gianni. “Deal with him,” I command quietly, the words a steel-edged whisper meant only for his ears.
Delaney, oblivious to the storm about to break, continues to drive the price up, his bids a blatant challenge. “Four million.”
My patience frays at the edges, a silent fury building within. It’s not the amount, it’s his arrogance that infuriates me. Does he think he can take herfromme? That son of a bitch?
From my peripheral vision, I catch Gianni’s approach toward Delaney, a predator closing in on his unsuspecting prey.
In a moment too quick for the untrained eye, Gianni slams a Taser into his victim’s chest, and Delaney’s triumphant smirk freezes into a mask of shock and confusion. He collapses, his body convulsing.
“He’s having a heart attack!” Gianni declares loudly, causing a stir of panic and confusion that ripples through the crowd. “Don’t worry, I’m a doctor.”
Seizing the moment, I step forward. “Five million,” I say, my voice cutting through the chaos. Unsurprisingly, my bid stands uncontested, and Vincent’s gavel falls.
As the crowd’s attention is divided between the stricken Delaney and the auction’s conclusion, my eyes lock with Amelia’s. Gianni returns to my side, a barely concealed smirk playing on his lips.
“Handled,” he says, as if tasering a rival bidder was nothing out of the ordinary. “Our men will get him the care he needs.”
Vincent appears beside me. “Did you do that?” he asks, nodding toward Delaney who’s being loaded onto a stretcher.”
I smile. “I never knew he had a heart in the first place. Look on the bright side; no bloodshed on your precious carpet.”
“Ivanov will hear of this,” he replies. “Delaney makes a lot of money for the Russians. They won’t be happy to discover you put their cash cow out to pasture.”
I ignore him, striding toward the stage, each step measured, aware of the many eyes tracking my movement but focused solely on Amelia.
Reaching her, I extend my hand, a silent offer of solidarity and protection. Her gaze meets mine, a storm of emotions swirling within those depths—fear, gratitude, uncertainty.
Tentatively, she places her hand in mine, a gesture that speaks volumes. I can feel the slight tremble of her fingers, the weight of her trust in this touch.
