Chapter Four: Virgin for Sale
576 Words
The black sedan purred to a stop, tires crunching on crushed marble. Aria's fingers curled around the door handle, cold metal biting into her palm. She stepped out.
Her tote bag weighed heavy against her hip. Inside, the signed contracts pressed against her thigh like a brand.
The door opened before she could knock. A woman in white stood there, pressed uniform, hair scraped back into a bun so tight it pulled at her temples. No smile. No greeting. Just a flick of fingers. “Follow me”.
Aria's heels clicked against the marble floor, each step echoing like a gunshot in the cavernous hall. Glass walls reflected her back at herself, pale face, dark circles, a too-tight dress she'd bought with her last twenty dollars.
A man in wire-rimmed glasses slid a fresh stack of papers across the desk. Two security guards flanked him, arms crossed.
"Sign here." His pen tapped the line. "One breach, and the contract terminates." A pause. "So does your brother's protection."
Aria's hand shook when she signed the final contract—with more details rules. A continuation of the first she signed earlier.
A sob cut through the hallway.
Through the half-open door, Aria caught a flash of silk robe, smeared mascara, a girl stumbling past with red-rimmed eyes.
"They touched me", she cried.
The woman in white shut the door without blinking. "Next."
Aria's name rang out from the clipboard.
The evaluation room was colder than she expected. White walls, harsh lights. A medical bed in the center, paper crinkling under her thighs as she sat.
The doctor snapped on gloves. "Undress." No curtain. No privacy. Aria's fingers hovered at her zipper. One breath, then another. The dress pooled at her feet.
The exam was clinical. Efficient.
The doctor's hands were impersonal, her face blank as she prodded and measured.
"Confirmed." A second woman snapped a photo, flash blinding, then slipped a tag into a folder.
Lot #12. Untouched Assets.
Madame Celeste entered without knocking. Red lips, Stiletto heels and a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
She circled Aria like a shark. "Perfect symmetry. No enhancements." A fingertip traced Aria's collarbone. "Men will fight wars for your first breath." Aria's fists clenched at her sides.
Two women in black suits stepped forward. One pinched Aria's thigh. "A bit soft."
The other made her walk in a circle. "Posture needs work." A pause. "But that face..." She nodded. "Gold." Aria's jaw ached from holding still.
An attendant returned with a slip of black satin, nearly sheer. Barely there.
"This is what you'll wear for the viewing."
Aria took it. "Do I have a choice?"
The woman's smile was thin. "You made it when you stepped out of the car."
The powder room lock clicked.
Aria slid down the door, knees hitting marble. Her shoulders shook, silent, furious. Her fingers pressed to her eyes until stars burst behind her lids.
The mirror showed a stranger. Bruised pride. Her bare skin revealed a pendant hidden under the strap of her bra—her mother's cross, warm against her skin.
Aria met her own gaze. "For Micah," she whispered.
Madame Celeste waited by the exit.
"The men will see what they want to own." Her perfume choked the air between them. "Smile. Don't speak unless asked." A manicured nail tapped Aria's chin. "Tonight isn't about you. It's about power."
Aria turned toward the door. Spine straight, eyes dry. The auction awaited.
- Writer
