"Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for the grand auction!"
The presenter's voice boomed through the intimate hall, charismatic and smooth. The lights dimmed further, and Alex felt the atmosphere shift. The conversations around him died down to whispers, then silence.
Alex sat in his plush chair next to Tatiana, trying to look relaxed. But his hands were gripping the armrests a little too tightly.
The first item rolled onto the stage on a gleaming cart - a painting in an ornate golden frame. Even from where he sat, Alex could see the intricate brushstrokes.
"We'll begin with this exquisite piece by Monet, valued at 2.3 million euros. Shall we start the bidding at one million?"
Hands went up immediately. The numbers climbed fast. 1.2 million. 1.5 million. 1.8 million.
Alex watched the crowd. They bid with casual gestures - a raised finger, a slight nod. Like they were ordering coffee instead of spending enough money to buy a house.
The painting sold for 2.7 million. Polite applause rippled through the room.
More items followed. A necklace dripping with emeralds. An ancient vase from some dynasty Alex had never heard of. A violin that supposedly belonged to a famous composer.
Each one went for astronomical prices. Each sale was met with champagne and congratulations.
Alex found himself getting bored. 'Is this really what I came here for? To watch rich people buy expensive things?'
Beside him, Tatiana bid on a few items but didn't win. She seemed relaxed, amused even. Like this was entertainment.
'So much money in the world,' Alex thought, watching a ruby ring sell for half a million dollars. 'These people would buy anything as long as it comes with a story.'
Then the atmosphere changed.
The lights dimmed even further. The presenter's voice took on a different quality - still smooth, but with an edge of excitement.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, we move to our... specialty items."
Alex felt Tatiana lean forward in her seat.
The first cage rolled onto the stage.
Alex's stomach dropped.
Inside was a man. Early twenties, maybe. Muscular build. He wore nothing but a jockstrap, and chains connected his wrists to the bars of the ornate cage.
'What the fuck?'
The cage stopped center stage. Two attendants opened it and pulled the man out. The chains clinked as they turned him around, displaying him like a piece of furniture.
"This fine specimen is twenty-three years old," the presenter's voice continued, businesslike. "Fluent in three languages. University educated. Physical condition is excellent, as you can see. Trained in personal service. Starting bid is 80,000 euros."
Alex couldn't breathe.
They were selling a person.
Actually selling a human being.
"Do I hear eighty thousand?"
A woman in the front row raised her hand.
"Eighty thousand! Do I hear ninety?"
Another hand.
The bidding continued. The man on stage kept his eyes down, his face blank. Like he'd learned not to show emotion.
He sold for 150,000 euros.
The crowd applauded.
Alex's hands were shaking. He pressed them flat against his thighs, trying to keep his face neutral.
'This can't be real. This can't be actually happening.'
But it was.
Another cage rolled out. Another man. Then another. Each one displayed. Each one sold.
The presenter narrated their "qualities" like they were cars - highlighting their skills, their education, their physical attributes. The crowd bid enthusiastically, competing over these human beings like they were prizes.
Tatiana placed a bid on one of them. A younger man, maybe nineteen. She lost to someone who paid 200,000 euros.
She shrugged, unbothered.
Alex wanted to throw up.
'I have to do something. I have to stop this.'
But what could he do? Stand up and yell? Attack the presenter? There were at least a dozen security guards in black suits standing along the walls. And everyone here was complicit. Everyone here wanted this.
If he tried anything, he'd be dead before he made it to the stage.
'Stay calm. Don't react. You'll blow your cover.'
The cages kept coming.
Then they brought out the women.
Alex's breath caught in his throat.
The first woman was young. Too young. Maybe eighteen. She had chains around her neck and wrists, and she was dressed in lingerie that left nothing to the imagination. Her eyes were red like she'd been crying.
"Human trafficking," Alex thought, the words bitter and horrifying in his mind. "This is actual human trafficking. At a gala. With millionaires."
The presenter's voice continued, smooth and practiced. "This lovely young lady is nineteen years old. Excellent domestic skills. Obedient temperament. Healthy and recently certified clean by our medical staff. Starting bid is fifty thousand euros."
The bids came fast. Faster than for the men.
She sold for 95,000 euros to a man in his sixties.
Alex's fists clenched so hard his nails cut into his palms.
'These people. These fucking people.'
More women were brought out. Each one paraded on stage. Each one described like livestock.
"This one has a spirited personality. Requires firm guidance but very rewarding once properly trained."
"These two are sisters. Twenty-one years old. Selling as a pair. Excellent for those who appreciate variety."
The commentary was clinical. Detached. Like they were discussing furniture.
But Alex could see their faces. See the fear. The exhaustion. The empty resignation in their eyes.
'I'm watching people being sold as slaves. In 2025. In Paris.'
His whole body was tense. Every muscle screamed at him to do something, anything. But he couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
If he revealed himself now, he'd be killed. And then he couldn't help anyone.
'I'm useless. I'm sitting here watching this happen and I'm completely fucking useless.'
Tatiana bid on several of the women. She seemed to be enjoying herself, competing with other bidders, raising her paddle with a smile.
Alex couldn't look at her.
'She's buying people. She's actually buying human beings and she's smiling about it.'
The auction continued. Woman after woman. Each sale met with applause. Each new "item" greeted with interest.
Alex felt something inside him breaking. Some piece of faith he'd still held onto about the world, about people, about basic human decency.
It was all a lie.
These people - rich, powerful, influential people - they didn't care. They saw other humans as things to be owned.
And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Then the final item was brought out.
This time there was no cage. A large ornate box rolled onto the stage, draped in silk. The presenter gestured to it with a flourish.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for."
The silk was removed. The box opened.
Inside stood a woman unlike the others. She wasn't chained. She wore a simple white dress, elegant and understated. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders. She stood with her head up, her eyes defiant even as she was displayed on stage.
Something in Alex's vision flickered.
Text appeared, overlaying his sight:
**[Target Acquired - Lisa Bonet]**
**[Age: 23 years]**
**[Occupation: Investigative Journalist]**
**[Crime: A loud mouth]**
'There she is. That's her. That's the target.'
Alex's heart pounded. He'd found her. Finally.
But she was standing on a stage about to be sold.
The presenter's voice took on a reverent quality. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Miss Lisa Bonet. I'm sure many of you know her name."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some angry. Some excited.
"Miss Bonet is an investigative journalist who has caused quite a bit of... inconvenience for certain members of our community. She's written extensively about financial irregularities, political corruption, and various other sensitive topics."
The presenter smiled. "I imagine many of you have personal reasons to be interested in acquiring her. She starts at one hundred thousand euros. Do I hear one hundred thousand?"
Hands shot up immediately.
"One hundred thousand! Do I hear one-fifty?"
"Two hundred thousand!"
"Three hundred thousand!"
The bids escalated fast. Faster than any of the others. This wasn't just about owning a person. This was about revenge.
Alex watched the numbers climb. 500,000. 800,000. One million.
Lisa stood on stage, her face impassive. But Alex could see the tension in her shoulders. The way her hands were balled into fists at her sides.
She knew what was happening to her. And there was nothing she could do about it.
'I have to get her out. That's the mission. Get her out.'
But how? She was about to be sold to someone in this room. Someone with security. Someone with resources.
The bidding continued. Five million. Eight million. Ten million.
Tatiana placed a bid. Twelve million.
Someone countered. Thirteen million.
Tatiana raised her paddle again. Fifteen million.
Silence.
The presenter looked around the room. "Fifteen million euros. Going once... going twice..."
No one else bid.
"Sold! To the lovely lady in seat fourteen for fifteen million euros!"
Applause erupted. Loud and enthusiastic.
Tatiana smiled, satisfied.
Alex felt sick.
'She bought her. Tatiana just bought the target for fifteen million dollars.'
Lisa was led off stage by two attendants. She didn't resist. Didn't fight. Just walked with her head high, even in defeat.
The presenter returned to the microphone. "Thank you all for attending tonight's auction! Delivery of your purchases will be arranged according to our standard protocols. We look forward to seeing you all at our next event in Monaco!"
The lights came back up. People stood, stretching, chatting, heading for the exits like they'd just watched a play.
Tatiana turned to Alex, her eyes bright. "Well, I guess the market's closed. I didn't see you bid on anything. Were you not interested, or do you just have shallow pockets?"
Alex forced a smile, though his stomach was churning. "I found my merchandise already. Met her at the bar earlier."
'Keep playing the part. Don't let her see.'
Tatiana laughed. "Charming. But words won't get you very far without money to back them up." She stood, straightening her dress. "However, you've kept my interest, Mr. Alex. My birthday party is tomorrow evening. You're invited."
She handed him an elegant invitation card with an address printed in gold.
"I'd love to see if you're as interesting as you pretend to be."
"I'll be there," Alex said.
'That's where Lisa will be. That's where I can get to her.'
"Good." Tatiana smiled. "Oh, and by the way - my name is Tatiana Dijakovic. But you may call me Dija."
"I'll see you tomorrow then, Dija."
Two men in black suits appeared at Tatiana's side, flanking her like bodyguards. She walked away without looking back, her heels clicking against the floor.
Alex stayed seated, watching her go.
**
'So I have until tomorrow to figure out how to get her out.'
Alex stood on shaking legs. Around him, people were filing out of the hall, chatting and laughing. Like they hadn't just participated in human trafficking.
'I can't call the police. Half of these people probably own the police. And even if I did, what would I say? I snuck into an illegal auction? They'd arrest me too.'
He started walking toward the exit, his mind racing.
'I can't just storm in and rescue her. Tatiana has security. Resources. If I try to be a hero, I'll just get killed. And then Lisa's still trapped.'
The helplessness was crushing.
'I need a plan. I need to think. But I can't think right now. All I can see is those cages. Those chains.'
Alex made it back to the main ballroom. The gala was still going. Music played. People danced. Like nothing had happened.
He headed straight for the bar.
"Whiskey. Double."
The bartender poured it without comment. Alex downed it in one swallow, feeling the burn.
It didn't help.
His phone buzzed. Alex pulled it out, expecting June.
Instead, it was a text from an unknown number.
*"I just finished my shift. Can I come over?"*
For a second, Alex just stared at it. Then he remembered. The waitress. Sara. From the restaurant this afternoon.
She'd said "maybe another time."
Apparently this was another time.
Alex typed back: *"I'm out at the moment, but I'll be back shortly. Sure, you can come over."*
He needed something to clear his mind . Anything to stop seeing those faces. Those cages. Those chains.
'I'll figure out a plan tomorrow. But tonight, I need to not think about any of this.'
Alex ordered another drink and tried not to see Lisa Bonet's defiant eyes every time he closed his own.