Not at that price point.
Not when I've made my intentions clear.
"Going once."
Eden's chest is rising and falling rapidly.
She's trying to control her breathing.
Failing.
"Going twice."
I lean back in my seat and rest my hands on the armrests.
She's mine.
"Sold to bidder twenty-seven for two million dollars."
Applause ripples through the room.
Several men stand.
Richard Moorehouse catches my eye and raises his glass in salute.
I barely notice.
I'm watching Eden being led off stage by the handlers.
Watching her disappear through a side door.
My phone buzzes.
A text from my assistant, Callum.
Payment verified. Paperwork ready for signature. She'll be brought to the east sitting room.
I stand, button my jacket, and make my way toward the exit.
Men try to intercept me.
To congratulate me.
To ask questions.
I brush past them all.
The hallways are quieter here.
Service corridors leading away from the theater.
I follow Callum's directions to the east wing.
He's waiting outside a heavy wooden door.
Former SAS. Utterly professional. The only person I trust completely.
"Sir." He hands me a tablet. "Contract requires signature and thumbprint."
