Bought by the devil

The lights were blinding. Not the soft glow of chandeliers she’d grown up being used to, but the merciless, bright spotlight of humiliation. Elena Vale stood on a velvet draped stage, wrists trembling at her sides. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was a Vale daughter of the man who once owned half the city. But her father was dead, his empire rotting in scandal, debts and, ruin. And now she was standing on display like she was one of his many ruined assets. The crowd below blurred into faceless shadows in tuxedos. Predators, every one of them. They watched with the patience of men who had already decided what they’d do with her once she was theirs. “Lot Seven,” the auctioneer called,his voice harsh but smooth. “A rare offering. Untouched. The last of the Vale dynasty. We’ll start the bidding at seven million.” Elena’s pulse thrashed in her throat. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. But the room came alive with numbers. Ten million. Fifteen. Twenty. The words fell like bullets, tearing holes in what little pride she had left. She tried to lift her chin, but shame burned hotter than the lights. And then came the voice. Deep. Calm. Final. “Fifty million.” The room silenced instantly. Her head snapped toward the source. He sat in the front row, legs spread in a lazy cocky dominance, the black cut of his suit shaped to fit his broad shoulders perfectly, his shirt unbuttoned at the neck, like rules didn’t apply to him,tattoos spread across his neck like dangling jewelry, Dante Cross. Her stomach hollowed. She knew the name the way people knew danger,whispered, feared, impossible to outrun. He’d been her father’s rival, the wolf who watched while the Vale empire bled,waiting for the perfect time to launch in and take whatever he could. And now he was her buyer. Her owner soon. “Sold,” the gavel cracked, sealing her fate. The guards unclipped her chains, releasing her not into freedom but into possession. Dante didn’t rise right away. He simply leaned back, watching her with eyes so sharp and cold they reminded her of a knife’s edge. When she was finally led down to him, her body stiffened, pride pulling her spine forcing her to stand straight even though her legs wanted to buckle. He mustn’t see, they mustn’t her like that,weak and frail,she had to keep a solid front. “You,” she hissed, her voice low,almost whispered but full of so much anger. Dante rose slowly, towering above her. He smelled of clean smoke and something expensive and predatory. His gaze traveled over her deliberately, like a man admiring something he already owned. His latest possession,a luxury worth fifty United States dollars. “No, Elena,” he said, voice soft and deep enough to reverberate into her bones. “I didn’t do this. Your father did. I’m only collecting what’s owed.” Her nails dug into her palms. “I am not property.” He smiled, faint, cruel. “Everything is property if you can put a price on it. And you, little Vale, are my property now and you were very expensive. You cost me a fortune you know that right? but you’re so worth it.” Her hand twitched, the urge to slap him burning. He noticed. He leaned closer, his mouth brushing her ear without touching. “Try it,” he whispered. “And I’ll enjoy punishing you for it later.” His voice was slow, a lazy drawl for more effect. Heat shot through her body rage, fear, and something darker that made her thighs press together against her will. He didn’t wait for a reply. His hand slid to her lower back, guiding her with a firm pressure. Not gentle. Possessive. He led her out of the auction house, past murmuring men who watched with envy as he took away his purchase. Outside, a sleek black car waited. His driver opened the door. She hesitated. “You can walk away,” Dante said with a shrug, his voice casual. “But if you do, the debt collectors your father owed will find you first. And they won’t treat you like I will.” Her stomach dropped. He was right. They’d tear her apart. Take everything she already didn’t have,her life would be miserable even more miserable than it already was. Her jaw clenched. And She stepped into the car. The ride was silent. She kept her eyes on the city lights flashing by, refusing to look at him,even though his presence filled the space like gravity. “You hate me.” He finally spoke breaking the silence in the car. She bit the insides of her lip until she tasted blood. “Congratulations on figuring that out…finally” He chuckled, a low sound, dark and amused all at once. “Good. Hate is better than fear. It means you’ll fight. I prefer my toys with a little bite.” Her head whipped toward him, fury flaring in her eyes. “I am not your toy.” His eyes caught hers, something dark flashed in them but disappeared before Elena could name it. “We’ll see.” The penthouse swallowed her whole when they arrived. Glass walls opening to the glittering skyline, marble floors that echoed her shaky steps, air so clean and sharp it felt unreal. He dismissed the driver with a glance. The heavy door shut, leaving them alone. She turned on him instantly. “You can’t keep me here.” He loosened his tie, watching her with that infuriating calm. “Can’t? I already am keeping you sugar” He said,giving her a quick glance and a wink. Elena rolled her eyes at his cockiness “people will know…” “People will think you’ve chosen me,” he cut in. “That you’re my newest obsession. No one will look closer. They never do.” Her chest heaved, rage and despair choking her. “I’ll never give you what you want.” In one smooth move, he stepped in, caging her against the wall with his body. He didn’t touch her, but the heat of him seared through her thin dress. His voice dropped, low and slightly seductive,even though Elena would rather die before admitting that. “You think I bought you for your cooperation?” His breath brushed her lips. “No, Elena. I bought you to break that stubborn pride of yours. And I will. Inch by inch,and I’ll watch while every last one of your walls crumble.” His eyes stared hard and deep into hers,not blinking Her heart slammed against her ribs. She wanted to scream, to spit in his face. Instead, she gasped when his hand finally moved,trailing up her arm, deliberate, slow, until his thumb pressed just under her chin, forcing her gaze to his. “You’re trembling,” he murmured. “I hate you,” she whispered. “I know.” His thumb stroked the corner of her mouth. “I love it,It’s delicious.” His lips didn’t claim hers…yet. He pulled back an inch, leaving her breathless, her skin aching for contact she could swear she didn’t want. And in that pause, she realized with terror what he was doing. He wasn’t going to rush. He was going to savor every bit of this thing with her.