Chapter 1

The last thing I saw in my previous life was the cold, indifferent face of the Auctioneer.

"Transaction complete," he had said, his voice flat. "The Miller family fortune, transferred. Ethan Miller's perfect SAT score, transferred."

My world had ended.

My sister, Sarah, had thrown herself from the rooftop of that very building an hour earlier. The giant screen that had shown her private, manipulated photos to a jeering crowd was still flickering. Her final scream was a sound that broke something inside me.

All for greed.

Ashley Stone, the girl I had loved since we were kids, had orchestrated it all. Her boyfriend, Kyle Peterson, stood beside her, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. His smirk was the most hateful thing I had ever seen. They wanted my perfect SAT score to make Kyle a top scholar, to elevate his status, to steal the future that was supposed to be mine.

They used a twisted, cruel system-an auction where anything could be wagered-to strip me of everything. My family's money. My academic future. My sister's dignity.

And then her life.

So I followed her. I went to the same rooftop. The wind felt like a final, cold goodbye.

But I didn't die.

I opened my eyes.

The same opulent ballroom. The same clinking of champagne glasses. The same hushed, predatory whispers of the city's elite.

And there, across the room, was Sarah. Alive. Her hands were clasped nervously in front of her, her eyes wide with fear. She was looking at the giant, blank screen on the stage, terrified of what was about to appear.

She was alive.

A wave of something so fierce and protective washed over me that it almost brought me to my knees. This time would be different. This time, they wouldn't just fail. They would pay.

"Ethan, are you okay? You look pale," Sarah whispered, her hand touching my arm.

Her touch was real. Warm.

"I'm fine, Sarah," I said, my voice steady, betraying none of the storm raging inside me. "Just trust me. No matter what happens tonight, trust me."

She nodded, though the fear didn't leave her eyes.

Then I saw them. Ashley Stone and Kyle Peterson, making their way through the crowd. Ashley wore a stunning red dress, a perfect mask of innocence on her beautiful face. Kyle walked with an unearned arrogance, his chin held high, already savoring his victory.

They stopped a few feet from us.

"Ethan," Ashley said, her voice dripping with fake concern. "I'm so sorry it has to be this way. But you understand. It's just business."

"Business?" I almost laughed. "Is that what you call this?"

Kyle stepped forward, shielding her as if I were some kind of threat. "Watch your tone, Miller. You're in no position to make demands."

He gestured to the massive screen. It flickered to life.

A picture of Sarah appeared. It was a photo from her private social media, but it had been altered. Her clothes were made to look more revealing, her innocent smile twisted into a suggestive smirk. The crowd murmured, their eyes hungry and cruel.

I felt Sarah flinch beside me, a small, wounded sound escaping her lips.

In my past life, this was the moment I had broken. I had screamed. I had begged. I had played right into their hands.

Not this time.

I met Kyle's smug gaze with a cold calm that seemed to unnerve him.

"Is that all you have?" I asked, my voice quiet but carrying in the suddenly tense air. "Pathetic, Photoshopped pictures? You went to all this trouble for something a high school kid could do?"

Kyle's smirk faltered. He expected panic, not disdain.

"You won't be so cocky in a minute," he snarled.

Ashley placed a delicate hand on his arm. "Kyle, darling, don't. He's just trying to provoke you." She looked at me, her eyes filled with a pity that was more insulting than any threat. "Ethan, just give us what we want. Your SAT score. It's all we need. We'll let you keep a little of your family's money. You and Sarah can disappear."

I looked from her to Kyle, and then back to the photo of my sister being defiled for this room of vultures.

"You seem to think you're in control here," I said. "You're not."

Kyle laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Oh, we're not? Who's the one whose sister is about to become tonight's main event? Who's the one about to lose everything?"

"You are," I said simply.

Before he could respond, a new voice cut through the tension. It was emotionless, amplified, coming from the stage.

"The auction will now commence."

A figure emerged from the shadows of the stage. The Auctioneer. Tall, dressed in a flawless black suit, his face an impassive mask. He was the enforcer of the system, the impartial arbiter of these cruel games. He held a sleek, black gavel in his hand.

"Tonight's featured item," the Auctioneer announced, gesturing to the screen, "the complete private collection of Sarah Miller. Bidding will begin shortly."

The crowd cheered. Sarah shrank behind me. I put an arm around her, my resolve hardening into something unbreakable.

Let the games begin.