The Auction

NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA

*Carissa's POV*

I'm roughly dragged through the packed club, the grip of my father's men hurting my arms.

Laughter and clinking of glasses rings out around me, but the suffocating smell of stale cigars and strong cologne makes me feel sick.

"Smile, Carissa," my father sneers beside me, his eyes cold. "You're the prize of the evening."

He sends a sharp signal to his goons holding me and they haul me up onto the stage. I struggle not to trip in my heels.

The room falls silent, with all eyes on me. My father takes center stage, his face twisted into a self satisfied smile.

"Gentlemen," he says in a booming voice. "Welcome to the highlight of the evening. My daughter, Carissa, is a rare gem, a virgin beauty with a perfect body that's sure to please. Whoever takes her home tonight would be hitting the jackpot."

I'm disgusted, humiliated, and terrified all at once. These men are dangerous, ruthless criminals, and my father is auctioning me off to the highest bidder like I'm nothing. After a lifetime of trying to earn his love, I’m being cast aside just to pay off his debts.

I try to hold my head high, refusing to show my fear. But it's hard when all I can see are hungry eyes devouring me. The men in the room are all wearing masks, but I can sense their lust, their greed.

I desperately want to reach down and adjust my skimpy black dress I was forced to wear but my hands are tied, literally.

The auction starts, and the bidding begins at a million dollars.

“2 million!” One lanky man yells.

“3 million!” Another one counters.

Darting a glance around the room, I search for any sign of help, but I know it's pointless. My elder brother, the only one who could possibly intervene, is lying in a coma at the hospital.

And then, the last person I expect to see strides into the room, commanding attention like he owns the very air we breathe.

Nico Demonio.

My childhood crush and my brother's former best friend. One of the most dangerous and feared Mafia boss of them all.

He's wearing a dark suit, a hat and black mask that obscures most of his face, but I can recognize that toned body and towering height from anywhere.

I haven't seen him in years and when our eyes meet, I feel a jolt of electricity run through my body.

I swallow hard, my throat dry as sandpaper, as I watch Nico move forward, like he owns this place.

What is he even doing here?

He is the same man that planned my brother's shooting and put him in a coma and he has the nerve to show up here to want to buy me?

He raises his hand, the light glinting off the expensive-looking ring on his finger. "Five million dollars," he calls out, his deep voice rumbling through the stunned silence.

My heart beats loudly in my chest as the other vultures in the room turn around to look at him.

A balding, stout man in an ill-fitting suit shouts, "Seven million!"

The auctioneer's gavel comes down with a sharp crack. "Going, going..."

I brace myself, my palms sweaty and shaky where they're bound in front of me.

Just when I think all hope is lost, Nico shouts, "Fifteen million!"

The room starts murmuring in hushed tones, the other men shifting uneasily in their seats. I can't believe what's happening. Nico Demonio, the same guy who once treated me like a troublesome little sister, is bidding on me.

I remember the way he used to ruffle my hair and call me "little one" with a patronizing smile. A small part of me is thrilled right now, but the larger part is terrified. What does he want with me?

"Twenty million!" a gruff voice bellows from one corner of the room.

But Nico doesn’t back down. "Fourty million dollars!"

I hold my breath wondering who is finally going to be my buyer.

The auctioneer bellows. “Going once… going twice..”

God please.