The CEO Don's Secret Mistress

003. Sold

SIENNA

Panic shot through me as those words left the woman's mouth. Item number seven?

“W–Who are you?” I tried to ask weakly. But they didn't even let me breathe for another second. Those bulky men grabbed my arms without mercy, dragging me out of the dressing room.

“Wait—! Where are you taking me? Let go!” I shouted in desperation, wriggling against their hold. But their hands were like iron, and it was impossible for me to escape. My legs were still weak too, as I hadn't regained much strength yet from being knocked out earlier.

The silence was eerie as we walked through the dimly lit corridor, leading me toward the worst fate imaginable. My heels clicked hollowly against the concrete floor, echoing the sheer terror loud in my chest. As we drew closer to a set of heavy, velvet curtains at the end of the hall, a muffled drone of voices and classical music filled the air. Then, a booming voice echoed through a speaker somewhere ahead.

"Next up, item number seven!"

The guards didn't hesitate. They pushed me right through the curtains, and the dark hallway instantly vanished, replaced by a blinding, white-hot spotlight. I gasped, instinctively raising a trembling hand to shield my eyes. Once I finally adjusted to the harsh glare, I realized I was standing on a raised wooden stage inside a massive, hidden theater. Below me, sitting in plush leather armchairs, were dozens of wealthy men in expensive suits. Their faces were partially obscured by the shadows, but I could feel the intensity of their eyes—cold, calculating, and utterly devoid of humanity—raking over my exposed skin.

"An untouched, rare beauty from the heart of Chicago," the auctioneer shouted from a raised podium, his gavel poised. "Bidding starts at ten million dollars!"

My heart stopped. Ten million? Before the number could even process in my mind, a paddle shot up from the front row.

"Fifteen million!"

"Twenty million from the gentleman in the center!" the auctioneer roared, the excitement in his voice cutting through my terror.

Paddles began to rise rapidly throughout the dark room, the numbers climbing so fast that it made my head spin. I stood frozen in the center of the stage, my chest heaving as my entire life was casually bartered away like a piece of fine art. These people were worse than wild beasts. How could they casually play with someone else's life?

The bidding continued, and the amounts being shouted were dizzying.

"Twenty-five million!"

"Thirty million!"

"Thirty-five million to the left aisle!" the auctioneer called out, a greedy grin stretching across his face. "Thirty-five million, going once...?"

The frantic crowd’s murmurs drifted through the air, as if debating if that sum was truly worth it.

“Going twice...?" The auctioneer waited. Until—

"Fifty million."

A deep, chillingly calm baritone voice shattered the high energy of the room. The entire theater fell into a dead, suffocating silence. The sheer, effortless authority in that voice made the hairs on my arms stand straight up. The words hadn't been spoken into a microphone, yet they resonated through the massive room with terrifying clarity. Every single head in the crowd turned toward the highest, most exclusive VIP box overlooking the stage. The area was completely veiled in heavy shadows, masking the bidder from the light.

The auctioneer blinked, his hand visibly shaking as he stared up at the dark balcony. He lowered his gavel without a strike, his voice suddenly thick with deep respect and dread.

"Fifty million dollars..." the auctioneer stammered, clearing his throat. "Sold... to the gentleman in VIP Seat 1."

The mysterious bidder didn't speak another word. No one in the crowd dared to murmur a complaint or try to outbid him. The sheer mention of VIP Seat 1 seemed to silence the entire room.

Who could be the person who had just bought me?

I stared helplessly up at the dark balcony, tears blurring my vision. I couldn't see his face, but I could feel a piercing, heavy gaze locking directly onto me from the shadows. Before I could even process what had happened, the two sturdy guards stepped back onto the stage and forcefully gripped my arms to claim me for my new master.

The guards didn't handle me with care. They dragged me backward through the heavy velvet curtains, stripping me away from the blinding spotlights and throwing me back into the cold, concrete corridors of the underbelly.

My feet dragged against the ground while the garter straps jingled softly with every terrified step I took.

Fifty million dollars. I had been sold for a fortune to a ghost in a VIP box.

"Please," I choked out, looking at the stone-faced guard on my right. "Where are you taking me? Who bought me?"

He didn't even blink, his grip only tightening on my arm as they led me toward a massive, reinforced steel door at the end of the hall.

"Quiet, item seven. You speak when you're spoken to,” he snapped.

They pushed the door open, revealing a lavish, private holding suite. It was a stark contrast to the concrete hallways—here, it was layered in plush black velvet, expensive leather couches, and a crystal bar filled with high-end liquor. It looked like a king's sanctuary, hidden away in the dark.

The guards forcefully guided me to the center of the room, and then released my arms without warning. I nearly stumbled over my heels.

"Wait here," the guard commanded flatly. "The Master will be in shortly."

I wanted to plead and beg, but they had already stepped out, and the heavy steel door shut with a loud, final thud. The sharp click of the automatic lock echoing through the quiet room felt like a gavel striking my death sentence.

I was entirely alone. And helpless.

A cold shiver raced down my spine, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around my exposed middle, trying to hide as much of the sheer crimson lingerie as I could. I felt completely naked, utterly vulnerable, and consumed by a terrifying dread. I couldn't shake the thought of who the man in VIP Seat 1 actually was. What kind of monster paid fifty million dollars for an eighteen-year-old girl?

Moments stretched into agonizing minutes. Every second felt like a drop of hot wax on my skin. My eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for a weapon, a window—anything that I could use to protect myself. But there was nothing.

As the realization hit me, my knees nearly buckled. I was completely doomed.

Then, the heavy electronic lock beeped. My heart violently leaped into my throat. I froze, my breath locking in my lungs as the large steel door swung inward.

A pair of polished leather shoes stepped into the room first. My eyes tracked upward, taking in the sharp crease of tailored trousers, a dark silk vest, and a rolled-up white button-down shirt that revealed powerful, tanned forearms. When my gaze finally reached his face, the air was completely sucked from my lungs. My jaw parted, my mind fracturing as my knees threatened to give out entirely.

"You..." I whispered, the word barely audible over the roaring of the blood in my ears.