The Auction
963 Words
She woke to the sound of voices drifting through the haze of unconsciousness, a man and a woman speaking somewhere nearby while the dull ache in the back of her neck reminded her exactly how she had gotten here.
"She's from a good lineage," the man said as papers shuffled nearby. "A prestigious family, Elian, the CEO's daughter”
"Michel Elvan's illegitimate daughter," the woman corrected while making notes on a clipboard, “Let's not exaggerate her position. She's here to settle a debt, not represent the family name, but look at her, the platinum hair alone will drive the bids through the roof”
Her stomach twisted and slowly, she forced her eyes open.
The bright lights overhead blurred together at first, but as her vision cleared, the room around her came into focus and revealed a world drenched in luxury and artificial beauty.
White drapes hung from the ceiling, mirrors lined with glowing bulbs reflected dozens of moving figures, and girls sat before vanity tables while workers curled their hair, adjusted makeup, and fastened expensive accessories around their wrists and necks.
Laughter drifted through the room, someone giggled, someone else complained about her shoes.
The atmosphere felt disturbingly normal considering every girl here was being prepared for the same fate.
Her gaze dropped to herself, she was already dressed.
Layers of sky-blue chiffon flowed around her body like liquid silk, the fabric shimmering beneath the lights with every movement she made while delicate golden jewelry wrapped around her wrists, neck, waist, and ankles.
The dress was beautiful in a way that felt intentional, designed to attract attention rather than provide comfort, and it revealed far more skin than she would have ever chosen for herself.
Her thighs were exposed and her shoulders were bare.
She looked less like a person and more like a display, a beautiful object prepared for purchase.
"A perfect choice," the woman said while examining her critically, "She'll go under the name Jade of the Show”
The man immediately wrote it down.
She slowly sat upright while fighting through the lingering dizziness clouding her thoughts, though there seemed little point in speaking because what exactly was she supposed to say?
That there had been some mistake?
That she wasn't supposed to be here?
The bitter truth was that there had been no mistake at all.
This was exactly where Michel Elvan had sent her.
Time passed strangely after that, a firm hand suddenly wrapped around her arm.
"You're next”
She pushed herself to her feet and immediately felt her legs tremble beneath her, though it wasn't fear making her weak so much as exhaustion and hunger because she hadn't eaten since breakfast.
The woman with the clipboard led her toward a large velvet curtain before stopping just short of the entrance and giving her one final look.
"Try to look pretty, darling," she said with a smile that never reached her eyes, “Men always pay more when they think you're fragile”
She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood because the sharp sting helped keep her grounded while the reality of what awaited beyond that curtain threatened to drag her under.
The curtain opened
Blinding light swallowed her instantly and she couldn't see their faces clearly beneath the lighting but she could feel them.
The attention, the hunger and their curiosity.
Dozens of eyes settled on her as she stepped onto the platform wearing jewelry that felt more like chains than decoration.
And suddenly all she could think about was Michel, his promises, his lies and his voice, "If you do this for me, I'll acknowledge you”
The memory shattered something inside her.
She closed her eyes and a sob escaped before she could stop it…,then another and another.
The tears came fast and hard, carrying years of loneliness with them as every painful memory she had buried clawed its way to the surface.
She remembered being nine years old and scrubbing floors until her knees bled because she thought Michel might praise her if the marble shone brightly enough.
And somehow, despite all of it, she had still loved him, still wanted him to choose her and still hoped one day he would call her daughter without being forced to.
Love truly was the cruelest thing in existence.
The crowd reacted immediately.
"She's already crying”
"Won't last long”
"Look at her”
"Beautiful”
"Perfect”
Their voices blended together into a chorus of amusement and desire while they discussed her as though she weren't standing a few feet away listening to every word.
Someone called her a siren in chains.
Someone else joked about buying her tears.
Another man loudly wondered how much platinum hair was worth these days.
Eventually her legs gave out, she dropped to her knees but still, she refused to look away or beg
"Shall we begin the bidding at one hundred thousand?" the announcer asked cheerfully and paddles immediately rose throughout the room.
"Three hundred thousand”
"Half a million”
"One million”
Excited murmurs spread through the audience as numbers climbed higher and higher, but before another bid could be placed, a voice drifted across the room from somewhere near the back.
"One hundred million”
Silence crashed down so suddenly that even her tears stopped.
Every head turned and every conversation died.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze toward the highest row of seats and found nothing but the outline of a man dressed in black, his features hidden by distance and shadows while an unsettling sense of power radiated from him so strongly that it seemed to fill the entire room.
She could see neither his face nor his eyes, yet she felt them on her.
- Writer
