I didn’t lose.
I didn’t explain.
And most definitely, I never shared.
The announcer’s voice faded behind me as I walked out of the ballroom and into the corridor. The heavy door closed, sealing the noise inside. For a brief second, I just stood there in the half dark, breathing in silence, feeling that strange pulse still burning under my skin.
I’d come here to gather information.
Instead, I had ended up buying a woman.
And for the first time in a long, long time, I wasn’t sure if I’d made the smartest move of my life or the most dangerous one.
Guess we were going to find out soon enough.
Chapter 3 - Ilana
I don’t remember walking off the stage.
One minute, there was a hammer striking wood, and the sound echoed like a gunshot. The next, rough hands leading me through a back hallway that smelled like sweat and bleach. The lights blurred, and the floor tilted. My pulse was too loud in my ears.
“Move,” someone barked.
I did, because what else was left to do? My body moved on its own, half numb, half trembling. The man who’d bought me walked ahead of us. He was taller than everyone else around us and broad-shouldered, and appeared mostly unbothered as if everything happening around us was not utterly insane. His stride was deliberate, slow enough that I had to match it, fast enough that I could barely breathe.
He didn’t look back once.
The corridor opened into a quieter room, smaller, with a desk and two men waiting behind it. They looked bored, like accountants who’d seen worse.
“Mr. Chernykh,” one of them greeted, tone dipped in respect. “The payment?”
Chernykh. That was his name.
He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a checkbook before my eyes, and scribbled a number like he was paying for wine and not an actual, living, breathing human being. I watched his hand, long fingers with a heavy watch gleaming under the light. The kind of watch that costs more than some apartments. Living with my brothers had taught me things like these.
The man behind the desk looked at the figure, blinked once, and nodded. “Everything’s clear. Thank you, sir.”
My stomach turned. Half a million.
This man, a complete stranger, had paid half a million for me.
I didn’t even know my own price until he set it.
He handed over the paper without looking at me. His movements were smooth, efficient, and dangerous in their calmness. Nothing about him said kindness or mercy because he was clearly all about efficiency and control. Complete and terrifying control.
A soft sound filled the room as his phone buzzed in his pocket.
I watched as he pulled it out and pressed it to his ear, barely glancing at the screen. “Bring the papers to the other house,” he said. His voice was deep and quiet, but it carried like a command. “Tonight. No mistakes.”
He hung up before whoever was on the other end could answer.
The other house. Papers.
My fogged brain couldn’t connect the dots yet, but the tone in his voice made my skin prickle. Everything about him did. He finally turned towards me, and that was when I really saw him. He was exactly the kind of man the world warned you about. The kind you never made eye contact with for too long because you would either melt or burn. Blond hair, cut clean and slicked back from his face. Eyes dark enough to look almost black from this distance, though when the light caught them, they flashed golden brown, almost burgundy, like the edge of a flame.
The suit fit him perfectly. Every movement screamed money, but not the kind that came from inheritance. But the kind that came from power instead.
“Come,” he said simply.
