The Auction

Jane's POV

The Auction 

 

I was pushed into a dark hall filled with faces blurred by shadows. I heard different voices and chatters, but I couldn't help but shiver in fear. The harsh light shone on me, making me the center of attraction as I was placed in the middle. My hands began to shake as I sighted my father seated on a king's chair close to me. I couldn't help but look at my father's emotionless face, as cold as stone.

 

The heavy doors of the auction creaked open from the front as two men trooped in. The intimidating demeanor of the one in front changed the atmosphere as he walked in like a king in control of his people, while the one beside him seemed out of place, his eyes wide in awe and his mouth agape. People parted ways for him as he stepped in. The air was filled with tension as murmurs spread through the crowd. The first man walked with authority and nodded to his friend with a smile as they made their way to their seats.

 

"More bidders remaining?!" the guard shouted as he closed the door. My heart kept beating, my hands shook uncontrollably, and I prayed silently for the ground to open up and swallow me.

 

Tension filled the hall as the auctioneer came to the front of the room, a sharply dressed man with a strict demeanor that commanded respect. He tilted his head toward the area where I was positioned, close to the stage, and gave me a warm smile.

 

The lights dimmed slowly as whispers spread through the crowd. They looked like billionaires who wanted a toy to play with; none seemed to desire a potential bride.

 

"We have a young virgin woman, a slave, or a potential bride for anyone here. Her beauty and poise make men marvel at the sight of her."

 

"Let's have her in," the auctioneer said to the guard beside me.

 

I shrugged off his hand on my arm. "I can walk myself," I said quickly, walking to the stage where the lights shone on me like an object being priced.

 

My beauty was evident, although my face had been bruised from struggling with the guards.

 

I looked at my dad with disdain. I couldn't help but hate him even more for placing his daughter up for sale.

 

The more I looked around the room for ways to escape, the more my mind went blank.

 

I saw a knife on the table. The auctioneer came close to me and whispered with a smile, "Don't dare do something crazy."

 

I looked around the room and saw two potbellied men whispering something to each other.

 

"Let's start the bidding at one hundred dollars," the auctioneer said, raising his gavel.

 

Sudden tranquility fell over the crowd, then a hand shot up in the front. It was a crippled-looking old man with gray hair and a look of seriousness plastered on his face.

 

"One hundred and twenty thousand dollars for a bride," he said. The crowd booed at the mention of the price.

 

"Do I hear one hundred and twenty?" the auctioneer asked, lowering his eyes to the crowd with his glasses perched on his nose.

 

"One hundred and thirty thousand dollars for a bride!" another man shouted from the back.

Tension filled the room as another hand shot up.

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a bride!" His voice filled the room.

 

"Do I hear one hundred and fifty thousand?" the Auctioneer asked.

 

"Two hundred thousand dollars for a sex slave," the man with the imposing figure stood up. Silence filled the room, and my heart raced as his gaze made me shiver. I couldn't help but bow my head to avoid his stare.

 

The auctioneer’s smile was visible. "Two hundred thousand dollars going!"

 

The older man in the front, clearly irritated, shouted, "Two hundred and seventy thousand dollars for a bride!"

 

"Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a slave," the imposing man stood up again, grinning mischievously.

 

"Yes, yes! Mr. Dennis," the auctioneer smiled. "Any other bidders?"

 

"This isn't just any girl; she is a young woman of virtue!" A man at the back shouted.

 

"Exactly!" another man with a commanding presence added. "She should be valued as a bride, not reduced to a mere servant. She seems fit for a lucrative investment, not a mere possession."

 

The auctioneer's face tightened. "Let's act professionally, gentlemen, and continue the bidding properly as we follow the rules."

 

My heart sank as anger surged through me. I couldn't believe I was being sold like an object, and the heated debate in the room was just to get the highest bidder—whether a husband or a master. I scanned the room and saw my father smiling amid the bidders. All I could see on his face was greed and desperation to sell me for the highest price.

 

"I bid four hundred thousand dollars," a man said. A warm smile crept across my face. I'd rather follow him than end up with Mr. Dennis.

 

"Five hundred thousand dollars," Mr. Dennis declared, raising the stakes. My heart peaked as I waited for another bidder to claim me.

 

"Five hundred thousand dollars going," the auctioneer said. I clenched my fist and rubbed my palm in nervousness.

 

"Five hundred and ten thousand dollars," a man standing at the back said.

 

"Interesting!" the auctioneer remarked.

"Any more bidders? Five hundred and ten thousand dollars going," he asked again.

 

Mr. Dennis raised his hand once more.

"Yes, Mr. Dennis?" the auctioneer acknowledged.

"Six hundred thousand dollars," Mr. Dennis said, raising the bid higher.

 

"Do we have any other bidders?" the auctioneer asked, scanning the crowd from one end of the row to the other.

 

My heart pounded, and I couldn't help but burst into tears.

 

The auctioneer slammed his gavel down, bringing the auction to a halt.

 

"Mr. Dennis is the rightful winner of the auction, but as we all know, according to the rules of this auction house, anyone willing to pay three times the bid price can claim the item."

 

A sudden realization dawned on me. "You can't do this!" I cried. "You can't take me away!" My heart sank.

 

"Be quiet, you!" my father said, walking up to me. "This is for your good. At least pity your sister—do you want her here instead?" He snapped, dismissing me.

 

As we were about to sign the document for the auction, a voice was heard from the back, and everyone turned toward him.

 

"One million eight hundred thousand dollars for a late bid?”