Cleo stood on the stage with the lights burning down on her. Her heart raced so fast she thought it would break. The grand hall was full of men in expensive suits. Their eyes scanned her like she was an object for sale.
Her stepfather held the microphone. His smile was wide, greedy, and cold.
"Gentlemen," he said, "tonight you have the chance to take home beauty itself. Pure. Untouched. Obedient. The bidding starts at one million."
Cleo froze. She wanted to scream, but her throat felt locked. Her hands shook at her sides, and she gripped the thin white fabric of her dress to keep from falling.
"One million!" a man shouted from the front row.
"Two million!" another added.
The numbers climbed higher. Two-point-five. Three. Four. Each voice was a knife cutting deeper into her chest.
Her stepfather leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Smile. You'll fetch more if you look pretty."
Cleo's lips trembled, but no sound came out. She lowered her head and stared at the floor, praying for it to swallow her.
Then, a deep voice came from the back of the room. Steady. Cold. Powerful.
"Ten million."
The room went silent. Every man stopped. Every eye turned.
Cleo slowly lifted her gaze. He was there. Leonard Kanos. The billionaire tycoon.
He sat tall and calm, his black suit sharp, his eyes locked on her. His face showed no emotion, but his presence filled the room. No one dared to bid against him.
Her stepfather's hand shook as he slammed the gavel.
"Sold! To Mr. Leonard Kanos!"
The crowd broke into whispers. Some were shocked. Some were jealous. But Cleo heard nothing.
Her body felt numb. Ten million. For her.
Leonard stood and walked forward. His steps were slow, heavy, and certain. The crowd moved aside for him.
Cleo's chest tightened. She did not know if he was her savior—or her new prison.