My Eccentric Billionaire

Auction Block Delta

CHAPTER THREE

Time didn’t even make sense anymore. Minutes dragged like hours, hours like days. People came and went, poking at screens, fiddling with wires and blinking gadgets near my head. They never looked at me like I was a person. They called me “Model X-09” or “the prototype.”

Every time I heard it, my heart cracked a little more, like glass about to shatter. I wanted to scream, to tell them I was Maya Lin, not some machine. But my lips stayed locked, my body frozen.

One day—or maybe it was night, I couldn’t tell—new voices filled the room. They were different. A woman’s heels clicked on the floor, getting closer.

“The auction’s set for next week,” she said, giving orders. “The explosion nearly ruined us. We need cash fast to cover the losses.”

A man laughed a short and bitter laugh. “Selling X-09 won’t even pay for the lawsuits.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the woman snapped. “She’s one of a kind. We’ll market her as a premium obedience model—docile but warm. The accident… made her better. More human.”

I wanted to scream. *That's because I AM human!! I’m not a doll! I’m not a thing!* My mind shouted, but my body stayed silent. Tears stung my eyes, slipping down my cheeks, but they didn’t see. They didn’t care.

Another man spoke from near the door, his voice smoother, like he was selling something. “Her neural interface is special. The way her eyes tear up, the expressions—it’s the most advanced tech out there. We’ll have a bidding war.”

“She goes to the highest bidder,” the woman said. “Fix any damage. Make her look perfect for transport.”

“Yes, Director,” the second man said.

Their footsteps faded, and the door hissed shut. My chest felt empty, like someone had scooped out my heart. They were going to sell me. Like I was a car or a phone. Like I wasn’t alive, trapped inside this body, screaming where no one could hear.

A while later, the door hissed again. New voices filled the room. A team of people surrounded me, their hands moving fast. Someone brushed my hair, tugging gently to smooth it out.

“Careful with the strands,” a woman said, her voice sharp. “The buyer wants her flawless.”

“She’s already pretty,” a man said, his tone lighter. “Look at that face. So real.”

“Too real,” another woman muttered. “Gives me the creeps.”

I wanted to grab them, shake them. I’m real because I’m me! But my body stayed still, a useless shell. Someone dabbed makeup on my face—cool brushes on my cheeks, a swipe of gloss on my lips. I couldn’t feel it, but I knew it was happening. They slipped a thin white dress over me, the fabric rustling softly.

“Looks good,” the man said. “Like a fancy doll.”

“Stop it, Greg,” the first woman snapped. “She’s not a doll. She’s… whatever this is. Organic-synthetic blend, right?”

“Yeah,” Greg said, laughing under his breath. “Creepy as hell. No servos, just neural stuff. Like she’s alive or something.”

If I could’ve screamed, I would’ve made their ears bleed. My anger burned hot, mixing with the fear that never left. They didn’t know I could hear them. They didn’t know I was trapped, listening to every word, feeling every second of this nightmare.

“Hold her head steady,” the woman said. “We’re putting her on the transport frame.”

Hands lifted my head, gentle but cold, and set it on a padded surface. My tears kept falling, but someone wiped them away like they were just water, not proof I was still here.

“She’s perfect,” the woman said. “They’ll love her.”

I wanted to cry out, to beg them to stop, to see me. But my voice was gone, locked inside. The fear was so big now, it felt like it would swallow me whole.

They were going to ship me off, sell me to someone who’d never know I was alive. My mom’s face flashed in my mind, her smile, the way she’d sing off-key in the kitchen. I’d never see her again. The thought hurt so bad I couldn’t breathe, or maybe I wasn’t breathing at all.

“Visor’s going on,” Greg said.

Something smooth and cold slid over my face, blocking the light. Darkness swallowed me like I was drowning. I couldn’t see anymore, but I heard them moving around, their voices muffled now.

“Lock the frame,” the woman said. “We’re rolling her out.”

My body shifted, the frame creaking as they moved me. The hum of something that sounded like an elevator started, then stopped. Voices echoed, sharp and busy, like we were in a bigger space. Engines roared nearby, loud and deep, like a truck or a plane.

They were taking me somewhere no one would know I was still me.

“Load her up,” a new voice said, gruff and impatient. “We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Got it,” Greg said. “She’s secure.”

The frame jolted, and I heard metal clank like a door shutting. The engine growled louder, vibrating through me. I prayed—begged—for someone to notice, to realize I wasn’t a machine. Please, someone, see me. Save me.

The engine’s roar softened, but a new sound started, a low hum, like a machine waking up. It was close like it was inside my head. My vision flickered, even through the visor, black, then grey, then black again, as if something was covering my eyes from the inside.

A voice spoke from nowhere: “X-09, transfer protocol active. Destination: Auction Block Delta.”

My tears stopped, frozen by a new terror. Auction Block Delta? My mind raced, trying to make sense of it.

Then, a sharp buzz crackled in my ears, and my body twitched—actually twitched—for the first time. It was small, just a jerk of my finger, but it was real. I felt it. Hope sparked in my mind, maybe I could make the rest of my body move....i would be able to tell them I was real...

That was until the voice spoke again: “Override detected. Initiating neural lock.”