CHAPTER 7 The Buyer

　　Sarah's POV

　　Ten million dollars? TEN MILLION DOLLARS?! My ears ring at the hearing of the price! That much money? Why would someone own that much money? Why would they be willing to give me that much money?

　　Why would I be sold in the first place?

　　When the price was heard the room nearly collapsed from the surprised gasps and even though I feel anything but disgust for the people gathered here and my "buyer" I can’t blame the vivid surprise as they all hear the amount of money that is going to be spent…on me.

　　I don't know who "bought" me. I couldn’t see the audience clearly, all I could do is focus on the voices to figure out who the highest bidder was. And I did. I heard his voice. It was clearly a he, a man.

　　A man with a serious, demanding, echoing voice filled the room with the demeanor of the winner. He almost sounded pissed that anyone else dared to bid on something that he owned. He should be between 20 to 30 years old. Not a day older. Even though when he shouted the price the authority in his voice made the whole room fall silent. He won.

　　I was his. That was decided by people who didn’t even know my name but somehow they would benefit from my existence. A pathetic one considering how on my very own graduation day I ended up being sold in a human auction because I was a nuisance to my own father!

　　How does life work, huh? Mocking you, breaking you, taking away any control you believe you have over it…at least that’s what life has done so far for me.

　　Suddenly the lights turn off and I hear people starting to stand up.

　　I could tell the auction was over.

　　Out of the blue, I feel a man grabbing me by m arm and dragging me to the back room that they have left me before I got to the stage. I don’t try to fight him back, I know it’s pointless. This is not one man’s work, they are many, and they are everywhere, running would be simply a waste of time and energy.

　　Yet I am still half naked. And I never allow my arms to leave my chest exposed even when he drags me around like I am a soulless doll. I never see the man who disposes of me in the room before he closes the door behind him and I know I shouldn’t be surprised.

　　After all, I am nothing but an object to them.

　　The door opens after a minute passes and I expect to see the chief entering. To my surprise I see the presenter walking in with a frozen smile plastered across his face.

　　Presenter: Oh my little flower! You really did a good job tonight! You exceeded our highest expectations! Tonight's show was amazing ONLY because of you!

　　He pats me in the head as if I am his pet while his smile shifts to a silly one. He has a pack of dollars in his left hand and he almost resists the urge to smell like they are his own oxygen.

　　The man doesn’t even seem real, his pointed mustache or his all-white suit with that tall hat and the black stripe in it…he almost looks like a character straight out of "Alice in Wonderland".

　　Surprisingly that thought, the silly possibility of him being an illusion and me being just another Alice trapped in a dream, gives me the courage to ask the so burning question:

　　Sarah: Umm...who-

　　I want to ask who "bought" me but it just doesn't feel right to even pronounce the word! The man looks down at me as if he forgot for a moment we were in the same room. He seems to be reading my mind cause he completes the sentence I was afraid to!

　　Presenter: Who bought you, sweetheart? Oh, I don't know who he is I am just doing this job a little bit more entertaining. As long as I get paid I don't give a shit!

　　His response is always followed by that smile. One that I know it’s plastic, fake. It seems as if it’s a mask, one that he once wore and forgot to ever take off. Suddenly he wasn’t a character from Alice anymore, he was a man without a soul. Money really was his oxygen and I really was his prisoner.

　　Sarah: I see. I'm sorry for asking.

　　I crawl into a corner of the room hugging my knees with my hands protecting my bare chest from public view. I let my mind rest for a moment and the realisation one after another hit me like merciless sea waves. I was afraid. And to this moment I haven't realised it but I was feeling cold, my hands were shaking and I couldn’t understand if it was because of the cold or the fear.

　　The presenter notices me despite my attempt to make myself invisible. He kneels closer to me with a ruthless smile on his face.

　　Presenter: Listen to me, sweets...this man paid a fortune and even more to buy you! You better don't be like this when he comes to take you! We have a name among this society that we are indenting to uphold! Don't make me regret presenting you as a goddess when the only thing good about you is your fucking virginity!

　　If the words leaving his mouth were written someone would believe he was yelling. But he did not. His voice was low and his tone calm. The same plastic smile followed him every word and that made him terrifying. I was terrified! He spoke a truth my mind was denying to process, a truth I couldn’t just accept and handle.

　　So the only thing that makes me the matter is something I don't even have control of?!

　　How is that even fair?!

　　Presenter: Do you understand?

　　Sarah: Y-Yes...

　　My answer is almost automatic. I don't want to piss him off. Men like him have no stopping if angry.

　　Presenter: Good. Now stand up and don't cover those little titties they are needed to be seen by your master.

　　I swallow hard at his words. That's simply not fair. I don’t believe there is any point in resisting…he’ll make me do what he wants one way or another, but I can’t just obey not at an order like that.

　　I stand up and cover my chest only with one hand.

　　Presenter: Have you not listened to what I—

　　He never completes his sentence when a man bursts into the room slamming the door open. I jump back at the sudden invasion, my back touching the wall now as I try to stay hidden in a corner, unsuccessfully.

　　Damon: I am here to take what I paid for.

　　A deep voice makes me look up at the invader. A man in his late twenties is standing at the door frame. His appearance alone is enough to catch your attention, his clothes look expensive, to say the least, and the leather shoes with the ROLEX resting around his wrist complete the picture.

　　The man is tall, with straight black hair not shorter than up his ear and brushed in the back of his head. He has a short cut and very carefully trimmed beard that only highlights his strong jaw-line.

　　His lips are thin enough to create a strict line in his mouth and his eyes are a dark almost black colour that shields his gaze from showing any emotion. If looks could kill the presenter would be dead by now, but instead, he smiles wider at the man as if expecting him.

　　When he finally glances at me I feel my whole body tensing up at the idea he is the one who bid for me…and I can’t help but wonder:

　　Who is this man?