Lethal Goddess: His Billion Dollar Darling Was Their Nightmare

Hidden away on a secluded island, the underground auction house glittered brightly, its glow stretching across the endless ocean that shut out the rest of the world.

This wasn't just any auction house. Only the rarest artifacts and the most unusual living creatures ever made it to its stage.

People whispered that as long as your money was right, there was almost nothing you couldn't buy here-not even life was off-limits if you were rich enough.

Tonight, the energy in the hall soared to its peak.

"For our last item, we present the star of tonight's event. A blood slave. Bidding begins at one hundred million dollars!"

The auctioneer's voice drew gasps and murmurs from the crowd.

"A blood slave? So basically just a slave. Who would even want that?"

"Is that really the big surprise? I expected something that would actually blow my mind. This just feels like a trick to keep us interested."

With the audience growing restless, a massive cage cloaked in black velvet dropped slowly from above, settling in the center of the stage.

The host swept the cover aside, and everyone stared at the young woman inside, half-leaning against the bars.

Blinding lights forced her to narrow her eyes. She looked so delicate, barely concealed under sheer white fabric that traced every elegant line of her body. Her dark hair fanned out around her, so long and thick it made her pale skin seem to glow even more, almost as if she was something otherworldly.

Shock rippled through the room. The sight was unreal. Nobody expected someone so breathtaking to be put on display like this-a blood slave, offered up just to entertain the highest bidder.

Excitement pulsed through some, while others couldn't hide their skepticism, whispering doubts to those around them.

Raising his voice, the auctioneer addressed the crowd, saying, "By the authority of Heaven Island, I assure you, there's no one else like her anywhere on earth. She's the only living pharmaceutical miracle. Her blood cancels out every known toxin, her wounds heal in a blink, and anyone who possesses her can extend their life far beyond what's natural!"

As these words rang out, the crowd erupted. The promise of healing any poison and holding the key to long life was enough to stir a frenzy.

"If she's as amazing as you say, then prove it! I won't buy the story unless I see it myself!"

Offering a practiced smile, the auctioneer snapped his fingers.

In the luxury seats on the eastern side, a loud thump interrupted the tension. All eyes shot over to see Brice Mills, Elesron's celebrated tech genius, collapsed in agony on the carpet. His skin was the color of chalk, and blood-tinged saliva glistened at the corner of his mouth.

His physician scrambled with trembling hands, rifling through a medical kit, searching for answers and coming up empty.

With a glint in his eye, the auctioneer gave a subtle nod. On cue, an assistant pressed a button, causing a slender, clear tube to glide toward the woman's neck from inside the cage.

She flinched as the cold needle broke her skin, but there was no fight left in her. It looked like she'd grown used to the pain.

A moment later, 30 milliliters of her vibrant blood filled a crystal vial and was hurriedly administered to Brice using a specially designed dropper. The transformation was immediate. Warmth rushed back into his limbs, his ghastly pallor faded, and his blank stare sharpened with awareness.

Brice hacked up a chunk of thick, black mucus, then drew in a breath like someone finally breaking free of drowning.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you've just witnessed a bonus feature. The real treasure here is her gift of longevity!" With that, the auctioneer commanded the room once more, every eye fixed on the miraculous scene unfolding before them.

As the last echoes of the auctioneer's words faded, a velvet curtain swept aside next to the stage. An attendant wheeled out an old woman, barely hanging on to life. Her heart monitor flickered at a weak thirty-eight beats per minute, every pulse a struggle.

With a silent nod exchanged between them, the auctioneer stepped forward and injected the remaining blood directly into the frail woman's vein.

Suddenly, the heart monitor shrieked. But instead of signaling the end, her heart rate rocketed to 68, and her oxygen levels leapt from 40% to 80%.

Slowly, the elderly woman blinked awake. Her lips trembled as she spoke in a wavering but clear voice. "Is this heaven? Have you come to take me away, angel?"

A hush settled, only to explode moments later as chaos swept the auction hall. The auctioneer gripped the microphone and exclaimed, "Let's start the bidding!"

Numbers shot up, climbing from the initial hundred million all the way to five billion in a matter of breaths.

Above the chaos, in a private suite on the second floor, Charlie Ford reclined on a dark leather sofa. His long fingers drummed a measured rhythm on the polished table.

Everything about him looked severe-each line of his face cut with precision, his presence cold and imposing.

Without a flicker of emotion, Charlie fixed his gaze on the woman below. She hadn't moved, not even after all that blood was taken. The commotion meant nothing to her, and Charlie's brow tightened in quiet contemplation.

Preston Kirk, standing behind him, leaned close and whispered, "Mr. Ford, the antique we bought is packed up. We can leave whenever you're ready."

Charlie offered no reply.

Watching his boss remain transfixed on the stage, Preston tried again. "Should we place a bid? Maybe she's the answer your brother needs..."

Charlie scoffed, waving the suggestion away as he rose to his full height and turned for the door, making it clear he wanted nothing more to do with the spectacle.

"A useless trinket. Nothing more than a toy for people with too much time and money," he said, his tone flat and dismissive.

Preston rushed after him, finally understanding how foolish he'd been. Charlie had never shown interest in women. He hadn't even kept female pets. Expecting him to care about a woman who had probably been shaped and broken by countless hands was absurd. Her beauty meant nothing in Charlie's world.

Back in the hall, the bidding war raged until the numbers shot past ten billion.

Once the gavel hit the podium, the auction was over.

The winning bidder was an older man with a round belly and a booming voice, and he could barely hold back his excitement. He demanded that they unlock the cage at once so everyone could see what real money looked like, and he grinned broadly as he made himself the center of attention.

Flashy demands like his weren't rare at these events, and since the tycoon had just spent a fortune, the auctioneer quickly bent down to unfasten the lock.

As soon as the cage door swung wide, the woman's eyes flashed open, sharp and alert.

Gone was the timid posture; she moved with sudden energy and sharp intelligence. With a mischievous smirk, she puckered her lips and sent the tycoon a playful kiss, catching him completely off guard.

In one fluid motion, she leaped to her feet, tossed the black cloth straight over the auctioneer's face, and shot off the stage before anyone could react.

The staff stood in stunned silence, not even able to process her escape before she had already vanished into the crowd.

A glimmer of silver danced in her hand, and with a flick of her wrist, needles sped through the air. Each one found its mark, dropping the bodyguards in her path like toppled statues.

Within moments, the auction house erupted into chaos. Screams filled the hall as guests bolted for the exits, panic shoving aside all traces of order and luxury.

"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."

The woman knitted her brows, utterly baffled by Charlie's twisted logic.

Frustration surged in her chest as she shoved at him with both hands, determined to break free. His body barely budged-he was as unyielding as marble, cold and unmoved by her struggle.

Out of options, she swung her hand up to slap him.

Preston's voice rang out behind her, sharp with warning. "Mr. Ford-" He clearly thought she was overstepping, about to seal her own fate.

Charlie, however, barely blinked. He caught her wrist before she could make contact, holding her fast.

With a mocking smile, he asked, "Is this your way of flirting? You must be new to all this-can't even understand what's being said, just eager to get a man's attention."

She shot him a furious look. Flirting? He had some nerve.

Charlie's hold only tightened, her bare skin brushing against his arm through the thin, torn cloth.

The chill of his body seeped straight into her nerves, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine as she twisted, desperate to get away.

He didn't budge. Instead, he drew her closer, clearly entertained by the fury burning in her eyes and the way she clenched her teeth at him.

The moment cracked when the businessman who had won the auction sprinted toward them, greed gleaming in his gaze. "I paid a fortune for that woman. She belongs to me!"

He barely managed two steps in Charlie's direction before Preston stepped forward, gun already cocked and pressed to the man's forehead, halting him instantly.

The businessman froze mid-stride, outrage coloring his cheeks. "Do you have any idea who I am? I-"

"That's enough!" The auctioneer rushed over, yanking him back with a sharp look that warned him not to take another step.

His tone changed completely when he faced Charlie, replacing bravado with deference. "Mr. Ford, we apologize-she's our blood slave, and she damaged your auction piece while trying to escape. We're prepared to compensate you, even pay double-"

The word "slave" wiped the indifference from Charlie's face. Something cold and dangerous flickered in his eyes.

The auctioneer caught a shift in the air but continued, nervous but uncertain where he'd gone wrong, "Mr. Ford, in light of this-"

"I'm taking her," Charlie said, his voice cold and absolute. There was no room for argument.

The auctioneer's face drained of color, disbelief clear in his voice. "Mr. Ford, you can't! She's property of Heaven Island, and she's already been sold. Besides, she-she's-"

He faltered, unable to finish, fear creeping into his eyes.

Charlie's fingers tapped idly at her waist-a motion so casual it seemed careless, but the control behind it was unmistakable.

He spoke again, tone brooking no refusal. "Her auction price was ten billion. I'll pay twice that."

It was a sum that left the room breathless-no one in Heaven Island's history had ever offered so much.

Charlie's words had barely settled before Preston whipped out a checkbook, scribbled out a dizzying sum, and handed the check over without hesitation.

With a flick of his wrist, Charlie let the check flutter to the ground, uninterested in whether it was picked up or not.

The auctioneer's hands shook as he insisted, "Mr. Ford, I can't accept this. Heaven Island has strict rules-this isn't allowed..."

A hint of a smile played at Charlie's lips. "And if Heaven Island ceased to exist, would your rules matter at all?"

The threat hung in the air, delivered so calmly it might have been small talk about the weather, but its arrogance chilled everyone within earshot.

The auctioneer stood frozen, words dying in his throat.

Without another glance, Charlie draped a coat over the woman's exposed shoulders, scooped her up as if she weighed nothing, and strode toward the exit.

Preston and a cadre of men in black fell in behind him, forming an impenetrable wall.

"Mr. Ford..." the auctioneer managed to call out in a strangled voice, but as Charlie's regal figure receded into the distance, he swallowed the rest.

No one in their right mind would challenge the man who held Elesron's fortunes in his grasp, a kingpin in both the underworld and the world of legitimate business.

Meanwhile, the woman, once fighting for every breath, now lay limp and silent against Charlie's shoulder.

The auctioneer glanced up, meeting her steady emerald gaze, and felt a chill run through him.

Her eyes shimmered with a dangerous mix of hope and triumph, the thrill of freedom sparking alongside a sharp promise of revenge.

She didn't utter a word. She didn't need to. Charlie's intervention meant she was finally leaving this nightmare, and silence served her better than anything she might say.

Behind her, the furious businessman continued to spew insults, but the auctioneer collapsed to the floor, gripping his head as he snapped, "Enough! Even if you'd won the bid, you never would've been allowed to take her. My boss never planned to sell her... She was far too valuable."

Heaven Island had spent years crafting their first fully completed blood slave-and now that she'd been taken, the fallout awaiting the island was beyond anything they could afford to imagine.