CHAPTER 6: THE BLOOD AUCTION
1645 Words
The ballroom doors didn’t just swing open—they exploded. Silas Avery stormed in, all sharp edges and swagger, waving a yellow sheet like a battle flag. He didn’t look like a dad rushing in to help. He looked like a predator finally cornering his prey. His mouth twisted into a cruel, crooked grin.
“Stop the music!” Silas bellowed. His voice was rough and harsh, scraping every ear in the room. “This wedding’s a lie! She’s a thief, and that boy—he doesn’t belong to the Romanos!”
June’s lungs emptied. She stumbled back, heels clicking too loud on the wooden stage, suddenly tiny and powerless. Then she felt Dante’s hand at her back—steady and warm, holding her up, keeping her from crumpling.
“Get him out of here,” Dante ordered. He sounded calm, but his eyes were all threat. His grip on June’s waist said, Don’t move. Stand tall.
“You’re not throwing me out, Romano!” Silas shouted, pushing right up to the stage. He ignored the security guards closing in. He jabbed a shaking, grimy finger at June. “Five years ago, I signed a contract with the Vancent family! When Dante Romano refused to marry my daughter, I gave the Vancents rights to her first-born to pay off my gambling debts!”
A lawyer in a razor-sharp gray suit stepped forward behind Silas. “He’s right, Mr. Romano. Under this city’s old laws, a grandfather can sign for a child if the father’s missing. You were ‘absent’ for five years. The Vancents are now the legal parents of Leo Avery.”
A gasp rippled through the crowd—cold and sudden, like icy water. June tried to meet Dante’s eyes. He’d gone pale. His jaw clenched so hard it looked painful.
“Leo isn’t some thing you can sell!” June’s voice finally broke out, shaky at first but climbing into a scream. She moved to the edge of the stage, glaring at the father who treated her like property. “He’s my son! You never had the right!”
“I had every right!” Silas snapped. He lunged as if to grab her, but Dante blocked him, looming tall and dangerous.
“If you touch her,” Dante said, voice low and lethal, “I’ll end you right here. On camera.”
“Go ahead!” Silas barked out a wild, ugly laugh. “Kill me! If I die, the contract goes straight to the Vancents. Either way, the boy leaves tonight.”
Cold sweat trickled down June’s back. She scanned the faces in the room. All those wealthy guests she’d tried to charm now stared at her like she was some tragic spectacle. In the corner, Bianca Vancent sipped champagne, her smile smug and victorious.
June glanced at Dante. His hands trembled on the podium. He looked ready to collapse. Marcus had been right—Dante was dying. If he broke now, they’d lose Leo.
I have to be the strong one, June realized. Dante’s the shield, but I have to be the sword.
“Wait!” June’s voice cut through the chaos. She stepped out from behind Dante.
The room froze. Even Silas stopped.
“The contract,” June said, steady now. “It says the Vancents get Leo if the father’s gone and the mother can’t pay. Right?”
The Vancents’ lawyer nodded. “Correct. The debt is five million dollars.”
“Dante bought that debt this morning,” June shot back, her eyes fierce. “But I have a new offer. The old laws say a mother can reclaim her child if she offers a ‘Living Exchange.’”
Dante turned, stunned. “June, don’t. Don’t even think about it.”
“What’s a Living Exchange?” someone called from the crowd.
June sucked in a shaky breath. She felt every ounce of the Romano name and the diamonds on her skin, but most of all, her love for Leo. “It means I give myself to the Vancents. I’ll work for them forever—a servant. In exchange, they drop the contract. Leo stays with his father. I go.”
Dante seized her shoulders, spinning her to face him. His eyes blazed with pain. “You’re not leaving me,” he growled. “I didn’t fight for you just to lose you now.”
“It’s the only way to save him, Dante,” June pleaded, her tears finally spilling. “You’re sick. If they take Leo, you won’t have the strength to fight. But if I go, you can stay and raise our son. Let me do this—let me save him.”
“No,” Dante said, turning back to the crowd. “There’s no exchange. The Vancent contract is worthless.”
He pulled a small black recorder from his pocket and pressed play.
Silas Avery’s voice boomed over the stunned crowd, recorded just an hour before. I don’t give a damn about the boy. All I want is the ten million the Vancents promised for faking that signature. The real document? Burned a long time ago. This one’s a fraud.
The silence that followed almost rattled the windows. Silas went sheet-white. He glanced at the Vancent lawyer, but the guy backed away like Silas had the plague.
“You recorded me?” Silas choked out.
“I record everyone,” Dante said. His voice was ice-cold, steady. “Guards! Take Silas Avery to the police. Give them the recording. He’s going to prison for lying and human trafficking.”
The guards seized Silas, who started screaming and fighting, but they hauled him out anyway. June felt a wave of relief so strong she nearly collapsed. But the feeling vanished almost as quickly as it came.
Dante turned on her. He didn’t look relieved. He looked furious. Jealous, too.
“You were really going to go with them,” he said. He leaned in close, so close she could feel his breath. The room was noisy again, voices everywhere, but for the two of them it was like everything had gone silent. “You were ready to walk out that door and leave me behind. Again.”
“I did it for Leo!” June shot back. “He’s just a kid—I had to try!”
“Was it really for him?” Dante’s grip on her hand was so tight it hurt. “Or is it because you’d rather be their slave than my wife?”
She met his eyes. She saw how much he was hurting under all that anger. For the first time, she understood—this wasn’t just about appearances for Dante. He was obsessed, terrified she’d leave him again.
“Dante, you’re hurting me,” she whispered.
He dropped her hand like he’d touched a hot stove. Stared at his own fingers, disgusted. “We’re leaving. Now.”
They tore through the house. Didn’t bother with the guests. June ran, desperate to get to Leo. She needed to see him, to tell him the nightmare was over.
They burst into Leo’s bedroom.
The window was locked. The lights were on. But the bed was empty.
Leo’s favorite toy truck lay on the floor, wheels still spinning. On the pillow—a single red rose. The Vancent family’s calling card.
June dropped to her knees. Her scream didn’t make a sound, but it ripped through her all the same. Dante punched the wall, hard. He made a sound she’d never heard—a low, broken thing. He slid down the wall, clutching his chest, face turning a terrifying shade of blue.
“Dante!” June crawled to him, hands shaking so badly she could barely move. “Your medicine! Where is it?”
“Not… not for me,” he gasped, pointing at the rose. “The rose… sleeping gas. The contract was just a distraction. They took Leo while we were on stage.”
June stared at the rose. At Dante, who was fighting for breath. At the empty bed.
The old June—the one who panicked, who hesitated—died right then.
She stood up, grabbed the rose, and squeezed it in her fist until her skin bled from the thorns. No tears. No shaking.
She crossed the room, rifled Dante’s jacket, and pulled out his black pistol. She tucked it into her belt, right under her fancy dress.
“Marcus!” she shouted.
Dante’s brother ran in, eyes wide. “What happened? Where’s Leo?”
“The Vancents took him,” June said, her voice cold as winter. It sounded nothing like her old self. It sounded like a Romano. “Take Dante to the secret hospital. Make sure no one knows. If anybody asks, he’s on a business trip.”
“Where are you going?” Marcus spotted the gun in her hand.
June headed for the door, her white dress trailing behind her. She glanced back at Dante, just once.
“I’m going to end this,” she said. “If people want a monster, I’ll be their monster.”
She stepped into the elevator. Her phone buzzed—a video call from an unknown number. She answered.
The screen showed Leo, asleep in a dark room. But the person standing over him wasn’t a Vancent guard.
It was Eleanor Romano—Dante’s mother.
“You were a mistake five years ago, June,” Eleanor said, voice smooth and sharp as a knife. “And you’re still a mistake. If you want to see the boy again, you’ll do exactly what I say. First order: kill my son.”
June stared at the screen as the elevator plunged down into the garage.
Will she pull the trigger on the man she's starting to love again, or find another way out?
- Writer
