Chapter Two: Sold in Silence
535 Words
The auction house didn’t look like what Lyra expected. There were no red curtains or thundering gavels, no polished floors or icy champagne like in the movies.
She tilted her head to see waiting vultures or just some thirsty men but there was no one.
Just shadows.
She sat on a cold metal chair in a holding room—like some high-priced object waiting to be sold. The dress Celeste forced her into was tight enough to steal her breath, the slit rising indecently high up her thigh,Lyra was struggling to cover up,her wrists, though free, felt shackled by fear. And the silence in the room… it screamed.
Lyra's heart wanted to drop when the door cracked open.
She flinched.
“Let’s go,” said a tall man with a shaved head and hollow eyes. He didn’t touch her, but she knew if she resisted, he would. She rose in aura, trying to summon dignity from the pride she had left.
Her heels clicked against the floor as he led her down a hallway lit only by candle lights. She didn’t dare ask where she was. Or who would buy her. She already knew the answer wouldn't make any difference , she didn’t matter. Not anymore.
When they reached the back of the stage, she heard voices—low murmurs, some in languages she didn’t understand, others thick with desire, cruelty, boredom. Lyra’s heart thundered against her ribs like a prisoner trying to escape, now she was in a movie.
“She’s up,” said the man.
“Don’t speak. Don’t cry, she urged her self.
He handed her off to someone else, a woman in black with a blank face and a clipboard. “Number thirty-seven,” the woman said raising the board so everyone could see“Just walk. Spotlight will follow. Stand in the center and wait,the woman said coldly.
The curtain opened before Lyra could prepare herself.
A sharp white light blinded her. Then the murmurs grew louder.
She walked into the center of the room, swallowing hard.
Men in suits sat in private booths, hidden behind tinted glasses like predators behind thrones. Some had masks. Others didn’t bother hiding their faces.
One man sat in the far-left booth, barely moving. His presence made her spine tighten. She couldn’t see his face… but she knew she was watched.Completely. Intimately.
“Thirty-seven,” the auctioneer said. “Pure. Unbroken. Comes from money. Disowned. Good bones. Better obedience.”
The price started at $500,000.
Lyra felt her blood dry as the numbers were called out. She looked down, fixing her gaze on the floor, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her.
The price kept climbing.
Seven hundred.
Eight.
Then…
“One million.”
The room hushed. Whoever said it didn’t raise his voice. But everyone hushed.
The auctioneer looked up toward the left booth.
“Booth Seven?"
He nodded slowly. “Sold.”
The gavel didn’t thunder. Just a quiet click. Final. Sealed.
Lyra stood there, trembling as the curtain fell. The room went black again. But her world had already changed, she was already owned.
She had been bought.
And whoever sat in Booth Seven was her owner now.
- Writer
