One

You should remember, we all create our own misfortunes.

The voices of the crowd became a horrific tune in my ears. My heart wouldn't stop galloping, the craziness was going around in my head, running amok. That was it, I was about to get doomed. My short-lived life would be over. If only the auctioneer could forget about my number but it would be a miracle. The event was called for my sake, the initiation before I fully turn into a grown woman, or that was how the men in my family see it-- a mere training. But it was all lies to cover up their imprudent imposts.

"Now, for our last merchandise, please come to our stage, number twenty-three." Wearing only a white cotton panty, I stepped my numbing feet outside the curtain. Yellow artificial lights blinded my sight, momentarily covering the faces of the hundred men about to bid on my exposed body. "Now, don't be so shy, little kitten." Someone shoved me further to the center of the stage. The thumping in my chest grew wilder every second. I wasn't supposed to get intimidated with men, for the sixteen years of my existence I was trained to tame them, bend their knees, make them beg. But at that moment, I was afraid, my knees felt wobbly, unstable—all I wanted to do was to crumple down the floor and cry. Yet the announcer was oblivious of the battle inside my head. "See the body of this beauty? One neat treat for all you guys, she's a virgin! You all heard me right a 'V' cardholder!"

Loud cheering erupted, whistling came and I covered my breast in humiliation. My eyes cast down to a corner where my dad stood, giving me a scowled look. He was disappointed about the way I was acting. I knew it from the squinting of his eyes. To avoid his measured gaze, my eyes diverted to my vanguard, meeting the hungry sharks oozing with libido.

Why? I have asked the single worded question over the years but it only ended with the same answer each time, fate. The world damned me right from birth.

"Let's start the bidding with ten thousand dollars, anyone?" Someone in the back raised his hand, signaling for an amount. The bidding began and my portal to hell was slowly being opened.

My heart was on rabid pacing. I have no idea what to do! I have always thought about fleeing, running away, and never looking back but in the kind of family I grew up in, it was useless. They control everything and they won't stop until they get what they want. I was never considered a human but a property, a mere thing at their disposal.

"We got a million there, with the man in black! Anyone?" I was jolted back into awareness. Bids came flooding from different directions. "Four million! Everyone, this is getting interesting! Any challenger?" Again, a hand raised but this time I could fully see the face of the bidder; the golden teeth that glowed under the lights.

Fuck, an inaudible curse escaped my lips. My grandfather lied to me; I fully knew the face of that monster. With his dark locks and wide smile, I hated everything about him. Even from afar, the way his eyes looked at me sent chills through my body. The memory of his rough hand in my skin brought back horrors and my many tormented dreams.

Tears threatening to fall, I snapped my head further up. The room suddenly felt frigid and I couldn't help but tremble in fear. Anyone but not him, just

please, I pleaded repeatedly in my head. I wouldn't survive a night with him, lest a year. It would be hell!

The noises were pushed to the background; I was left with a deaf ear as my eyes frantically searched for someone, a savior. Then like a magnet, I was pulled to a pair of stormy clouds. His black tousled hair and gray eyes were hypnotizing. Silently, I asked him for his mercy. Anyone but the monster, the notion kept bugging me; I would do anything not to be put under that punishing hands. You, I mouthed to the guy with the gray eyes. Take me with you.

A smirk formed on his lips and for about a second, I saw a glint in his eyes--lust. But then he stood up, taking his back to me, walking away and I was sure I have been wrong.

"Ten million!" shouted the auctioneer, dread clawed at my stomach; it couldn't be. "Going once! Going twice! No more bid? Then, people...item number twenty-three is sold to bidder number eighty-five, for ten million dollars!"

Before I could voice out my reaction, I was hauled down the stage, back to the room where I waited before. The door closed dramatically loud as I was pushed inside. "Anja! Anja! My dear come here..." beckoned my grandfather in uneven breathing, a machine in his side helping him ease the pain in his lungs.

"Grandpa," I answered without much conviction.

"Don't cover yourself, child, be proud of your body. It's the best weapon, the gods could offer you. With that kind of beauty, everyone would bow down."

I was smart enough not to question him. He was a man of his own principles. I moved my hands down my sides and a facade started to cover my exterior. "Yes, grandpa. I'm sorry."

"Now my child, remember everything you learned. Keep in mind that you are doing this for the honor of our family." I nodded my head, unable to form the right words to say; a ball was clogged in my esophagus. "For our family." My grandfather grabbed my hand and I smiled for his sake.

"Mr. Astor, you need to rest now," the nurse holding my grandfather's chair chimed in.

"Goodbye, now my child." His hand slipped out from mine, he has wheeled out the room and I was left with pitiful tears.

"Goodbye," I whispered to the empty room. My voice echoed back to me. I never felt so alone in my whole life, though I was raised in isolation. I got the maids to cheer me up but then I got a new reality ahead of me.

I picked the clothes, neatly folded on the vanity. A plain white shirt faded blue jeans and a pair of sneakers. My reflection shouted innocence with the clothes covering my body, just the thing I needed to be.

"Are you ready?" The door opened up. A guy in his sixties wearing a suit and tie entered the room. Invisible cold hands moved down my spine, he was too old. "My boss is already waiting for you in the car." My ears perked up and I followed him in silence.

We moved out of the parking lot of the abandoned building. A single black BMW was parked, everyone else was gone. I entered the car and to my dismay. I was alone, my buyer wasn't in there.

"Where is Mr. Eighty-five?" I asked not knowing how to address the man who bought me. "Why is he not here?"

"My employer is a very discreet man if you'll know miss. He is meeting you elsewhere so if you will please, wear this." The old man handed me a plain white cloth. I furrowed my brows to him. "To cover your eyes, miss." I gawked but didn't question him. I reached for the cloth and carefully placed it over my eyes, blocking my sight.

The car started and we traveled to an unknown place. Almost an hour passed and we stopped in an isolated area-- a grassy plane. In a distance, a roaring helicopter awaited us, blades rotating furiously fast.

"Here miss." The old man handed me a pill. "Take that. It'll help you sleep."

Being tired, I submitted without questions. I swallowed the white and blue pill. My sight went blurry and everything stopped as I fell down into a rabbit hole.

......

Hot breath tickled my nose and the smell of my favorite vanilla potpourri filled me. I opened my eyes. Gray met me, like a cluster of angry clouds.

"Good morning," the guy whispered in my face. His proximity made me hold my breath. The guy won the bidding and I wasn't wrong. His stare held intensity.

He backed down, going to his seat, across from mine. My head snapped to the side; the morning lights seeped through the window beside me. White cumulus clouds parted as the plane flew us above the horizon.

I must be asleep for too long that they were able to transfer me from the helicopter to the plane.

I snapped back my attention to the guy, "What's your name?" I asked the first question that popped in my mind, being able to let go of the building tensions. "I'm An--"

A chuckle escaped from the guy. "No need for proper introductions but as you initiated. I am Yulian." He scratched his chin, looking for my reactions, his thick accent indicated Russian descent. "And you, milady is going to be Mi Eliza, my wife."

"Wife? But--" I stopped couldn’t able to form the right words to say.

"For a year, yes."