Page 2

The drive is longer than I anticipated, and just when I start to think the GPS might be broken, a luxurious black BMW zooms past me, quickly taking a right turn and disappearing into a dark parking lot. I follow the car, and I’m shocked to see a huge, desolate building. It appears so suddenly through the darkness that the reveal was almost a shock.

What is this place?

Though the stone chapel is old and covered in vines, the parking lot is filled with brand-new, expensive-looking cars that glint in the sparse light from the streetlamps. My truck sticks out like a sore thumb.

Quickly, I turn off the ignition and grab the access card from the glove compartment, then step out of the truck. I walk over to the entrance just in time to see a suited man with dark hair step up to the huge, stern-faced security guard. I step up behind him, my heart thrumming like crazy in my chest as my eyes fall on the poorly concealed gun in the security guard’s waistband. He checks the dark-haired man’s access card and motions him in with a curt salute, and then his eyes fall on me.

“Evening, ma’am.”

“G-good evening,” I squeak, then clear my throat awkwardly. I raise my chin, trying to mimic the dark-haired man’s confidence as I hold out my access card to the guard. “I have this.”

The guard must see through my ruse, because his eyes narrow suspiciously. “What is your business here?” he asks coldly, his hand resting menacingly on the gun at his waist.

My eyes widen at the dark threat in his eyes. I swallow hard, desperately racking my brain for anything to say that will get me in the door. My palms have gone sweaty, my stomach tightening with dread.

“She’s with me,” comes a deep, rich voice. The dark-haired man in front of me has turned slightly to rescue me, pausing as if he’s giving me time to catch up to him. I look up, my gaze clashing with the alluring grey eyes of the most striking man I’ve ever seen. And it seems for a moment that I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

“Okay, sir,” the guard says, his features relaxing as he returns his attention to me. “You can go in, ma’am.”

I nod speechlessly, urging my legs to move. My whole body is shaking, my legs threatening to give way beneath me.

That could have gone horribly. I don’t know what this place is, but it’s clear their security is no joke. I could have died.

My savior gazes at me for a moment, his expression unchanging. Then he simply nods his head and turns to enter the building ahead of me. There’s no way I can catch up to his long, confident strides, and by the time I enter the building, he’s nowhere to be found. Ignoring my disappointment, I look around the long corridor with rows of doors on each side, wondering which way to go.

Suddenly, one of the doors is pushed open and a stocky bald-headed man walks out, heading straight for me.

“What the fuck are you doing standing around out here?” he thunders with an angry sneer. “The auction will be starting any minute now.”

“W-what?” I mutter, blinking at him blankly.

“Aren’t you the auctioneer for the VIP section?”

Auction? Is that what they do here? Was Dad coming here to procure a particular piece of art?

Only one way to find out.

“Uhm…yes,” I say, nodding at the man. “Yes, I am.”

What the hell are you doing, Bella?

“Come with me,” the man snaps irritably, already walking down the long hallway.

I follow after him and he leads me to one of the doors in the corridor and turns to face me. “There’re important people in there tonight,” he says, the threat in his voice unveiled. “Fuck this up and you’re dead meat.”

My heart drops to my stomach at his words. I can tell he isn’t bluffing. He’d really kill me if I mess up whatever business is going on behind that door.

Swallowing nervously, I nod at him. “I promise to do a good job.”

Something akin to suspicion crosses his eyes, but he grits his teeth and pushes open the door. I walk in, clenching my fist against the urge to turn around and get the hell out of here. The door closes behind me, and I’m faced by a number of serious-looking men in suits. They are all comfortably seated on plush couches with sturdy wooden tables in front of them and glasses of some sparkling liquid.

I scan the room, and my gaze falls on a familiar broad-shouldered figure. It’s my dark-haired savior from earlier. My heart skips with a nervous excitement at the sight of him, though I don’t understand why. He spreads his long legs out in front of him in a nonchalant manner, his firm lips tilted slightly as he takes a sip of his drink. Suddenly, he raises his head and our gazes clash.

And in that moment, it seems like the world stops and all I can see is him. I feel a flush rising to my cheeks, but then something crosses his eyes, a dark emotion that quickly disappears as another man rises to his feet and joins me on the stage, shooting me a confused look.

It seems the event is about to begin.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the man on stage says smoothly, his deep voice ringing authoritatively in the room. “I’m Lucian Devereaux, your host for this fine evening. I welcome you all to another gathering where you will be able to bid on some of the most sought-after pieces of art in the world…and some the most expensive!” He winks and the audience chuckles.