Chapter 2 You Belong To Me Now

"Don't let her get away! Block every exit!" The auctioneer's voice trembled, his face turning ghostly pale. If she slipped through their fingers, the boss would make him pay.

A group of security guards surged forward, brandishing stun batons and closing in.

But she was already racing up the circular stands, darting between rows as she searched for any way out.

Spotting three guards barreling in from the right, she moved on instinct. Her hands flew to a nearby cart, yanking off a box draped in black cloth, and hurled it straight at them.

The box hit its mark. Two of the guards crumpled to the floor, and the third went down hard as the box exploded on impact, scattering porcelain shards across the marble with a sharp, desperate clatter.

The man who had been pushing the cart went pale as a sheet, sinking to the floor in panic. "Oh no, that's Mr. Ford's auction treasure! I'm finished..."

Mr. Ford? The name barely registered as she glanced his way.

No time to linger-her ears caught the swell of footsteps coming from the opposite direction.

Judging by the crowd's frantic movement, the exit must be above her head, leading to the surface of the island.

Without hesitating, she sprang upward, grabbing the nearest railing and hauling herself onto the central column.

Her kick dislodged a large advertising sign, sending it crashing down onto the guards below and scattering them like bowling pins.

The auctioneer staggered after her, unable to believe his eyes. She'd just taken out half his security team. For a blood slave, she moved with unnerving speed and agility.

Panic rising, he came to a split-second decision. If she got away, it would be his head. With shaking hands, he drew a gun, leveling it at her leg as she climbed higher.

Two shots rang out as one.

The first knocked the weapon clean out of the auctioneer's hand, making his shot miss and strike the column just above the woman, sending shards of marble raining down.

The auctioneer froze in shock as a tall, formidable man stepped out of the shadows. The former's voice caught in his throat. "Mr. Ford..."

Meanwhile, the missed shot startled the woman, and her grip slipped.

She twisted mid-fall, trying to catch herself before she hit the floor.

Out of nowhere, a strong arm shot forward, fingers clamping around her ankle and halting her descent.

She lost her balance completely, and in the next instant, she found herself pulled against a chest that felt like stone-cold, unyielding, impossible to escape.

Her glare shot upward, ready to lash out, but the sight of Charlie left her momentarily speechless.

The chandeliers cast a shimmering light across his face, making his features even more striking. Marked by an aristocratic chill, Charlie's gaze was icy and unreadable, his eyes cutting straight through her.

Nearby, someone accidentally sent porcelain fragments skittering across the marble, the soft clatter breaking the tension in the room. Charlie didn't so much as blink.

He looked her over, his stare unflinching, taking in the sweat on her brow and the angry red marks around her wrists-proof of how fiercely she'd fought.

Even amidst the chaos, he'd seen the spark in her eyes as she climbed, the sheer determination that set her apart. Her spirit was fierce, alive, utterly captivating.

She wasn't some broken plaything-she was a force refusing to be tamed.

Charlie's fingers traced her mouth with calculated coldness, his thumb pressing down on her lower lip as his voice cut through the tension. "Are you even aware of the mess you've just made?"

Pain radiated from where he touched her. She caught the dangerous glimmer in his eyes, remembering the fear he inspired in everyone who crossed his path. This man was trouble-of the worst kind.

"You've just shattered my collection. One of a kind, irreplaceable," Charlie remarked, his smile razor-sharp. "You know what comes next, don't you?"

Suspicion flashed in her eyes. Was he angling for money? It seemed absurd-people with access to private auction rooms usually drowned in wealth and power. Yet here he was, threatening her over a broken artifact. So the richer they were, the more they pinched their pennies?

Her glare never wavered, disdain and mockery mixing in her gaze. She had seen greed and coldness in the eyes of the wealthy far too many times.

When she remained silent, Charlie cocked an eyebrow and tugged lightly at her earlobe, as though toying with a bauble. "Didn't you hear me, or do you not understand simple instructions?"

That made her pause, but only for a heartbeat. Not a bad question, really.

A flicker of calculation passed through her eyes. With the weight of Charlie's authority and an army of guards at his back, brute force was not an option. The best move was to feign weakness and bide her time until an opportunity to escape showed itself.

She'd suffered so much in this place of nightmares that the memory of how she ended up stranded here had all but vanished from her mind.

She had grown so accustomed to playing the mute that not a single word had ever slipped from her lips in front of these people.

So she kept up the act, staying quiet, her expression sharp and wild as she glared at Charlie like a cornered creature ready to bite.

Yet for all her fury, her emerald eyes stayed startlingly clear, untouched by the filth of this place.

Charlie found himself staring. Beautiful things usually stirred a cruel impulse in him, a desire to crush them before anyone else could. But something about her made him pause.

"So that's all you are. A clueless little thing whose only talent is running," Charlie murmured with a click of his tongue.

She shot Charlie a wary glance, wondering if he was really about to set her free.

As his hold released, she touched down on solid ground, muscles tense and ready to bolt.

Her mind mapped the nearest exit in an instant. If she angled left, she might have a chance. She shifted her weight, ready to spring-

Charlie's voice slid in, halting her escape. "It doesn't matter to me if you're a fool."

A ripple of confusion swept through the crowd, their eyes darting between them.

The auctioneer stood frozen, utterly at a loss as to what Mr. Ford might do next.

Suddenly, her vision swam, and she found herself lurching helplessly toward Charlie, unable to control her own momentum.

Before she could recover, his arm coiled tightly around her waist, drawing her flush against him. Heat radiated through the thin fabric where his hand gripped her, leaving her skin tingling in its wake.

Charlie leaned in, his voice cool and domineering. "You destroyed my prized possession. That means you belong to me now. That's the price."