The Billinaire's Secret Mirror Obsession

She'd been tricked! Felina anxiously darted between the columns in the hall, carefully inching toward the door. A few days ago, her agent informed her about an upcoming fashion show at a remote country club, promising pay well above market rates. She had her doubts about its authenticity, but the autism care center her mother had founded was struggling financially for too long. Filina had maxed out all her credit cards just to provide food for those children. Now, reminders to pay were flooding her inbox; she desperately needed the money. After much hesitation, Filina arrived at the club alone, where she was taken to a huge dressing room on the second floor. However, she found the dressing room filled with girls just like her—young and beautiful.. What they were handed made Felina's jaw drop; pieces of skimpy lingerie, way more revealing than bikinis, barely covering anything. Seriously, who could walk around in that? The facade cracked wide open as the woman who had brought them in told them to get changed and follow her out. Then she finally spilled the truth. Then, she witnessed it, a girl refusing the dress code got a brutal beatdown, blood streaming from her head as she was dragged out like trash. Her agent was lying. There was no fashion show at all, just a dark auction where these beauties were up for grabs as playthings for the wealthy! But Felina wasn't one to fold under misfortune. Before coming, just in case, she had quietly brought a small bottle of homemade pepper spray and a mask. When the woman in charge wasn’t looking, Felina sprayed the pepper spray directly into her face. Chaos erupted in the dressing room. The screams of the woman alerted the guards. Amid the turmoil, Felina quietly slipped downstairs, her face concealed behind a mask, blending into the crowd of guests. Each of these distinguished attendees wore their own distinctive masks, temporarily shielding her identity as an escaped commodity. She finally made her way to the door, only to see some thugs in black suits checking IDs. Damn it, they had figured it out too fast. "What now?" Felina muttered, glancing at her bare wrist. No VIP stamp, no strength to take on a gaggle of men. Once she got caught, she'd be auctioned off, r***d, maybe even by multiple people. Felina felt a chill down her spine just thinking about what might happen to her. No way did she want to end up like that. The crowd was thinning out fast. Before she could figure out how to slip past the thugs, she heard a heavy noise of them closing the gates! There were about six thugs by the door, and she was getting desperate. The lights dimmed, and the remaining distinguished guests started showing the stamps on their wrists, following the receptionist's directions to the auction venue where a feast of the young bodies was about to start. If she didn't get moving now and got left alone in the hall, she'd definitely be made. Just then, a thug in black suddenly looked her way. Panicking, she stepped back and turned around, smacking her nose into something. It turned out that Felina bumped into a man's cold, hard chest. "Ouch!" she yelped, covering her nose. Looking up, she saw a man without a mask. Even in the dim light, he stood out. Unlike the bloated, middle-aged male guests here, this guy was different. If he wanted, tons of women would throw themselves at him. He was built like a Greek statue, shoulders twice as wide as hers, and his chiseled face was more handsome than any guy she'd ever seen. But his expression was pure indifference. No apology for bumping into her. Then, a voice came from behind. "Who are you? Where's your invitation card? Show me your stamp." Crap, she'd been spotted! Felina knew she was at her wit's end. She grabbed the man in front of her like a lifeline and begged, "Sir, please save me. I was tricked into coming here. Help me, please!" She looked up at him with wide, desperate eyes, using his tall frame to hide herself. The man looked down at her, his expression blank. He'd seen this act before; women pretending to be in distress, hoping to seduce him later. Only here to pass the time and observe the debauchery, he had no interest in getting involved with some auction item. So, he pulled away, turning to leave. His sleeve brushed her face, causing a sharp pain, but she just ignored it. She knew perfectly well that if she let go, she would be doomed. Desperate, she clung to him, forcing him to turn back. "Sir, if you help me, I'll definitely repay you," she promised. At that moment, her mask's straps loosened, and her face was revealed. Her thick, dark brown hair framed her delicate, enchanting face. Her eyes, striking emeralds, fluttered with long lashes as her pale pink lips whispered, "Please." The man's indifferent expression vanished, replaced by shock. "It's you?" he blurted out. Felina was confused. She was sure she'd never seen this man before, but his face showed a whirlwind of emotions, nostalgia, hatred, and joy, like he'd rediscovered something precious. Realizing this man might be her only hope, she nodded eagerly. "Yes, it's me!" "Mr. Mayer?" The thug's voice sounded again from behind her, like a ticket to a nightmare. Felina trembled all over. "Do you know this girl?" the thug asked hesitantly, noticing Felina's apparent familiarity with this distinguished guest. He couldn't afford to offend this man! The thugs had all been shown a photo of him and told to remember his face, and now that person in the photo was right in front of them. Michael Mayer. The owner of a world-leading financial group, the so-called dark lord, whom even their boss dared not cross paths with. At the auction, there was a rule that every "customer" had to wear a mask to conceal their identity. But Michael had special privileges. If he liked a certain "item," their boss would offer it to him directly, without an auction. Hearing the thug's respectful tone, Felina felt a glimmer of hope. Whoever the man thought she was, as long as he could save her, it didn't matter. Although Felina claimed she knew him, Michael could see the confusion in her eyes. Was he really just a stranger to her now? That realization stung more than when he first discovered that she had abandoned him. "Anna, fancy meeting you here. Pretending not to know me? Then why even bother asking for my help?" Felina had no idea what he was thinking and could only anxiously await her fate. God, she really hoped he would save her! She started praying silently. The hall was emptying out, and the thug, now courteous, said, "Sir, if this is your friend, how about we put her in your box?" Michael pinched Felina's chin with his fingers, making her meet his gaze. His touch was rough and warm, and it sent a blush creeping up her cheeks. For a moment, she saw a glimmer of hope in his smiling eyes, almost believing she might escape. But then Michael's expression hardened as he changed his mind. "Nope, don't know her. Mistook her for someone else."