My Eccentric Billionaire

Drai Estate

CHAPTER FOUR

A jolt shot through me, like lightning burning my veins and my body went still again. The darkness came again and I was falling, deeper into the void, with no way out.

I woke up to the sound of soft music, like a lullaby floating in the air. Warm light glowed, and I realized the black visor was gone. My eyes stung as they adjusted.

A fancy chandelier sparkled above me, its crystal pieces catching the golden light like tiny raindrops. Voices hummed around me, excited like bees in a hive.

I was lying on a wide stage covered in soft red velvet. My body was propped up on a cushioned recliner, tilted just enough for me to see shadows moving in the crowd.

People walked by, stopping to stare—men in sharp suits, women in shiny dresses. Their eyes sparkled with something greedy, like they were looking at a prize.

I was still unable to move.

A tall man in a navy suit stood next to me, talking into a small microphone that was clipped to his collar. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, his voice smooth like he’d done this a hundred times, “welcome to the main event. This is Model X-09, Valent Industries’ finest creation. The most lifelike obedience prototype ever made. Fully neural-integrated, with unmatched warmth and emotion.”

He waved his hand at me like I was a shiny car on display. My heart—or whatever was left of it—thumped hard, like it was trying to break free. I wanted to scream, to jump up and yell, I’m not a model! I’m Maya Lin! I’m alive! But only my eyes moved, darting over the crowd, and even that felt like a fight.

“Starting bid, ten million,” the man said.

The room went quiet for a second, then a paddle shot up. “Ten,” a man’s voice called.

“Eleven,” a woman said from the other side.

“Twelve,” another voice jumped in.

The numbers climbed fast, each one hitting me like a punch. “Fifteen million,” a woman near the front said, her voice cool. She leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she studied my face. “Look at her eyes. So sad. Did you program that?”

The man in the suit—the auctioneer—smiled wide. “Of course, madam. That’s our greatest achievement. Emotional authenticity like you’ve never seen.”

My chest tightened, and tears burned behind my eyes, but they wouldn’t fall. It’s not programming! It’s me! I wanted to shout. My sadness wasn’t code—it was real, raw, and ripping me apart. But they didn’t see. They didn’t care.

“Seventeen,” a cold voice cut through, somewhere in the back.

The bids kept coming, higher and higher, each one pushing me further into a nightmare. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, but inside I was screaming, begging for someone to notice I wasn’t what they thought.

Then the crowd shifted, and someone new walked in. People moved out of the way, whispering. I caught glimpses of a tall man in a black coat, his dark hair falling over his forehead. His eyes were hidden, but his presence filled the room like he was bigger than everyone else.

“Sasuke Drai,” a woman whispered behind him. “What’s he doing here?”

“Who invited him?” a man muttered, sounding nervous.

Sasuke ignored them, sliding into a front-row seat with a lazy sigh, like he was bored. His gaze swept the stage, then stopped on me. For a second, he didn’t move. His head tilted, his dark brows pulling together, like he was trying to figure something out. Me.

“Twenty million,” he said, his voice cutting through the room like a knife.

The crowd gasped, a ripple of shock spreading. The auctioneer stumbled over his words but quickly forced a smile. “Twenty million from Mr. Drai. Do I hear any other bids?”

No one spoke. The gavel slammed down, sharp and final. “Sold to Mr. Drai for twenty million.”

My heart stopped—or it felt like it did.

Sold.

Just like that.

To a stranger who looked at me like I was a puzzle. I wanted to cry, to scream, to run, but my body stayed still, trapped. Fear twisted inside me, mixed with a spark of something else—hope? His eyes had lingered on me, like he saw something the others didn’t. But what if I was wrong? What if he was just like them?

“Prepare her for transport to my estate,” Sasuke told an attendant next to him. “Immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” the attendant said, scribbling on a tablet.

The crowd buzzed with gossip, their voices blending into a hum. “Twenty million for a prototype?” one woman said, sounding jealous.

“He’s up to something,” a man whispered. “Drai doesn’t just buy things.”

They wheeled my recliner off the stage, the velvet curtain brushing my arm as we moved. I caught one last look at Sasuke. He was still in his seat, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his folded hands.

His dark eyes locked on mine like he was searching for something. Curiosity? Doubt? Or… did he know? My heart jumped at the thought, but fear swallowed it fast. What if he didn’t care? What if he thought I was just a thing, like everyone else?

The stage lights faded, and the chandelier’s glow slipped away as they rolled me into a dark hallway. The music softened, replaced by the squeak of wheels and the murmur of voices. “Careful with her,” an attendant said. “Mr. Drai’s particular about his purchases.”

“Got it,” another replied. “She’s secure.”

My recliner stopped, and I heard a door creak open. Cool air hit me, smelling like metal and fuel. An engine hummed nearby, low and steady, like a truck waiting to take me away. Panic clawed at my chest.

Where was he taking me? What did he want? God, why was this happening to me?

I thought of my mom, my friends, my career, my life—slipping further away with every second. I wanted to fight, to kick, to scream, but I was stuck, a prisoner in my own body.

Then, a soft click sounded near my head, and the recliner vibrated. A faint hum started, like the one from before, buzzing in my ears. My vision flickered black, then clear, then black again.

That cold, mechanical voice spoke: “X-09, transport mode engaged. Destination: Drai Estate.”

My breath caught, or it would have if I could breathe. The hum grew louder, and I tried to induce that jerk of my finger from before .

I focused, channeling all my willpower and my body twitched, my finger, just a tiny jerk, like before. If I could move, I would have sighed in relief, but before I could try again, the voice cut through: “Warning: Unauthorized neural activity detected. Engaging lockdown.”

The same sharp jolt zapped through me, like electricity burning my veins. My body froze again. The hum softened, but a new sound started—a faint, rhythmic beep, steady like a heartbeat. It wasn’t mine.

It was coming from the recliner, from me, from somewhere deep inside. The attendant’s voice broke through, urgent: “Sir, we’ve got a signal glitch. She’s… she’s activating something.”

Sasuke’s voice answered, calm but edged with something sharp. “Show me.”

The attendant looked at me again, using what I assumed was a flashlight to look into my pupils. Then, his expression changed and he scratched the back of my head.

“I…I think it's gone,” he muttered.

Sasuke glared at him. “Get her into the van.”