Rescued by the masked billionaire

Chapter 1

EMILY'S POV

If regret had been horses...

"You already know the guidelines! You get picked, or you get killed." The five-foot-four pot-bellied auctioneer's voice echoed through the cold, dark hall, his phrases dripping with malice.

She begged desperately, her voice trembling. "No, no... no please, please do not kill me. Pl-please..." Claire—her name tag on her bra appeared to mock her, a harsh reminder of her vulnerability.

"Get your filthy hands off me!" the auctioneer boomed, his slap sending Claire crashing to the floor. Her pleas turned to determined sobs, her small frame shaking uncontrollably.

"Please... pleaaase..." her voice croaked, worry consuming her.

The Toskalovian Werewolf Mafia Legacy participants watched with indifference, their faces hidden behind cat-themed masks. We were desensitized to the horrors unfolding before them.

"RUFO! Get that b***h off the stage!" a voice yelled from the group, fueling Claire's desperation.

As the bodyguards dragged her away, Claire's eyes met Mine, a silent plea for help. My heart ached terribly, my own fear momentarily forgotten.

Rufo and his men finally stopped their motion, asking Claire to go. She had been released.

"Well, let’s just say you are one of the lucky ones tonight," the auctioneer announced, his sarcasm dripping with cruelty.

"Run, my love..." He sneered, his eyes shining with sadistic delight.

Suddenly, the room fell silent.

Wonder shone over Claire’s features. Her worried eyes locked with mine once more.

“Go...” I mouthed, giving her the final push of courage.

Claire instantly turned on her heels to run.

BANG!

The group's applause and yells shattered the air. This was their show!

BANG BANG!

"Arrhhhhhh..." the other girls including me, crumpled in the corner, wearing only our underwear, screamed and cried, awaiting our own fate.

Claire's lifeless body was dragged away—not carried—her limp form scraping against the cold white tiles. Like they had done to the six other girls who had been ‘unlucky.’

I shut my eyes tight, fighting back tears and my desperate urge to pee. If I held it in any longer, I would have an asthma attack. My heart raced, my mind consumed with terror.

Oh God!

"Next! Next..." The men yelled impatiently, their voices cutting through me like a despair.

I started whispering desperate prayers, hoping my late mother might answer.

I didn't want to be next—no, scrap that. I didn't want to die in my least favorite underwear.

"YOU!"

I froze.

Rufo and his men moved past me and dragged out the woman behind me.

"Pleaseeee... Noo!!..." My cries and pleas were drowned out by the laughter, a haunting echo from the crowd.

I opened my eyes, relief washing over me, but it was short-lived. The bidding began again, a sinister game of life and death.

I took my eyes off the bidding; I wanted to focus my thoughts on something else—something less painful than the big pin that was used to keep my name tag in place, the pin piercing my bra. My breast, actually.

I wished to just yank it off.

If wishes were horses, everyone would ride. But right now, if regrets were horses, I would steal all the horses and ride far away.

Recalling how I got tangled up in all this...

I should never have listened to my siblings who planned a ‘surprise night’ for me. I thought they had finally repented from their evil ways.

The betrayal cut deep with each passing moment.

So much for having siblings. Well, step-siblings if that counts.

"Going... going... $139,000 for this piece... do I see a hand at the back? ... $139,500!" The crowd's frenzy drew my attention back to the so-called 'charity event'. Apparently, this girl's bidding was going well. But wasn't being picked by these guys worse than death?

My eyes scanned the grand underground auditorium, its expensive feel cloaking sinister intentions. These powerful men hosted charity events twice a year, deceiving the world above with a mocking facade of being philanthropists under the guise of a charity occasion.

Why did they all wear ridiculous-looking masks?

“What are you thinking of??” Amelia shook me, whispering harshly beside her.

Oh yeah. Amelia, who just turned twenty that day, was my new friend and confidant. We had been together since the night they were captured.

“I, ... I need to really pee, Lia... you can see how I’m squeezing my feet?! I’ve been thinking about urinating all night!” I whispered back in hushed tones. My tears resumed.

“Then pee! Who’s stopping you?”

I stared at her, taken aback! Wiping the tears off my face, “Who’s stopping me?!” I whisper-yelled, “I won’t be picked! I’ll be killed and…”

“YOU!... Hey!”

My heart dropped, ready to fall out of my chest.

I didn’t dare look up, but I felt Rufo’s burning glare on her. Amelia locked their arms together. I swallowed hard.

“You’ll be fine... please don’t cry.” I croaked, my own tears mixing with my catarrh.

Rufo's brutal grip seized my arm. The men cheered; they loved feisty. It was evident they had a kink for abuse.

One of Rufo’s bodyguards yanked me away, striking me with heavy slaps. But I refused to yield.

Rufo threw me across his shoulder. "Pleaseeee stoppp... pleaseeee," I begged, my bladder giving up on me.

Fuck!

"Bitchhhhhh!" Rufo shouted, furious at mevas he flung me onto the stage. His suit soaked with urine.

“Enough!” someone boomed angrily from the crowd, stopping Rufo from descending on me. Suddenly, everywhere went quiet.

He was clearly referring to the person beating me up.

Who was he? Did he just—

"Let’s begin." The short, pot-bellied man declared, his face twisted in disgust as he gazed at me.

Forced to stand upright, my legs trembled, dripping with urine. Tears streamed down my face, my mind numb to the men's lewd comments.

Despite my resistance earlier, my bladder had won the battle. A laugh escaped my lips, earning a fierce glare from the angry goblin.

"What did you say?!!" he yelled, ready to smack me.

In that instant, the lights flickered, and the room went into chaos. Masked men stormed in, their leader wearing a wolf mask, exuding an air of power and intimidation.

The crowd went wild, loud whispers spreading around. Everyone knew who he was.

“He’s here... he’s here...” I heard men speak in hushed tones.

As the newcomer took his seat, his piercing gaze locked onto me. I stiffened, causing my heart to race nonstop.

The pot-bellied guy cleared his throat, attempting to regain control. "We will now proceed with the auction."

I was screwed!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes passed, and I remained unpicked. The comments I received were unflattering, but I seemed unfazed.

The newcomer observed me, torn between interest and concern. I think this was his first time attending the Toskalovian Werewolf Mafia Legacy's charity event, and the way he's looking shows that he was disgusted by the underlying illicit activities.

"$30?... ohh... $32?" The auctioneer laughed, mocking me.

"58 f*****g bucks for this piece of s**t right here!" The crowd's laughter intensified.

There was just something... something drawing me to him.

My eyes met him, causing me to feel an unexpected spark. The wolf inside me growled, startling me.

I struggled to tame my wolf.

"Two hundred million dollars!" The masked man declared, his voice echoing through the hall.

There were gasps and murmurs flying.

The bidding suddenly gained momentum, but no one dared challenge the bid.

However, a new figure who had been quiet all night stood up.

"Three hundred million dollars!" An older man bellowed furiously from the crowd, his voice echoing through the hall, challenging him.

Everyone knew him! With or without the mask—Alessandro De Luca, the notorious main boss of the Toskalovian Mafia and with the way he looks at the man, I knew they might be arch-rival.

The masked man seethed with anger. Why the sudden challenge? Just a short time ago, no one wanted me before!

"Nine hundred million dollars!" The masked man thundered, his voice shaking the room. Pandemonium that had been brewing all night commenced.

Alessandro sneered, "Back down, Arnold. She's mine. You can’t outbid me!"

“Ohh the man mane is Arnold” I thought to myself.

Arnold refused to yield, despite the odds. The hall quickly descended into intense chaos.

"Nine... nine hundred million dollars! Going!! Who—"

BANG!

Alessandro's man had just gunned down the auctioneer.

Arnold's and Alessandro's men clashed. The women screamed, fleeing in terror.

Amelia rushed to pull me, who was still in shock, away, but a huge man grabbed me by my hair.

"Ahhhhhh!" I was flung to the ground. The man pinned me, ready to strike. I kept struggling, not giving him a chance.

BANG!

Someone had shot him, blowing his brains out. The thick blood splattered across me, oozing out, leaving me shaken and extremely nauseous. my head spun uncontrollably.

Just before losing consciousness, I felt myself wrapped in my rescuer's strong arms being carried away.

“Stay with me, Bellasimo,” Arnold prayed.