I move closer, noting the way she instinctively steps back. "You look perfect. Exactly what they're expecting."
"And what would that be?"
"A beautiful woman with excellent breeding and proper training." I reach out to adjust a strand of her hair, feeling her tense under my touch. "You'll stand where I position you. You won't speak unless directly asked a question. You'll maintain appropriate posture at all times."
"That's it? I just... stand there while they look at me?"
"That's it, for now. No conversation beyond basic pleasantries. No physical contact. They evaluate your appearance and demeanor, nothing more."
Relief flickers in her expression. "They can't touch me?"
"Not today. This is preliminary assessment only."
I don't tell her that's also because I'd kill either of them if they tried.
"But later..."
"Later depends on the outcome of today's viewing."
She nods slowly, processing the information. "How long?"
"Fifteen minutes each. Then it's over."
"And then what?"
"Then they make their offers and we see who values you most highly."
The cold way I say it makes her flinch, but she doesn't argue. Doesn't beg or plead or try to negotiate. Just nods.
She's so much stronger than she believes.
"Are you ready?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
"Then I'm ready."
I lead her downstairs to the main salon, where Kozlov waits with barely contained impatience. He's exactly as I remember from the photos—silver hair, cold blue eyes, the kind of predatory stillness that comes from absolute confidence in his own power.
He's also a monster who's purchased at least three women in the last five years.
And I've just invited him into my home to evaluate a woman I'll never actually give him.
This had better work.
"Viktor," I say as we enter the salon. "Thank you for adjusting your schedule."
"Renato." His gaze immediately shifts to Camilla, and I watch his expression change from business interest to somethingmuch more focused. Hungry. "And this is the acquisition we discussed."
Every instinct screams at me to put myself between them, to end this charade right now. Instead, I force my voice to stay level.
"This is Camilla. As you can see, the photographs didn't do her justice."
Kozlov circles her slowly, his examination methodical and thorough. He doesn't touch, but his gaze travels over every inch of her body.
I watch Camilla's face, see her fighting to maintain composure while he stares at her.
