Chapter 3

I stood at the back of the line.

The metal number tag on my wrist clinked softly with every step, its cold touch a constant reminder that at this moment, I was nothing more than a commodity waiting to be bid on in the eyes of others.

The doors at the end of the hallway slowly opened.

The staff whispered each person's number, guiding us into the backstage area one by one.

I didn't keep my head down.

Crying wouldn't solve a single thing.

I had to memorize every detail here.

There were six security guards backstage in total: two at the entrance, two on either side of the stage, and two standing permanently at the second-floor staircase. There were only three exits: one was the corridor we had just entered through, one led to the second-floor private VIP boxes, and the last one presumably connected to the parking lot.

Security was tightest at the second-floor boxes.

If the mastermind buyers were really here, that was where they would be.

I silently committed every route to memory.

As long as there was still a chance, I wouldn't give up.

Just then, the woman ahead of me was suddenly called back by a staff member.

"Number 12."

The staff member swiped the tablet.

"Buyer canceled."

The flicker of hope that had just surfaced on the woman's face vanished instantly.

Another staff member said calmly,

"Send her back to the basement."

The woman began to scream and cry.

"Please! Let me go!"

No one answered.

The bodyguards dragged her away directly.

In the entire backstage area, not a single person thought this was worth stopping to look at.

For the first time, I realized there was a complete set of rules here.

Some determined the prices.

Some handled transportation.

Some managed the transactions.

Everyone was doing their duty.

Except for us—we had no choice.

"Number 17."

The staff member called my number.

"Get ready."

She handed me a black velvet shawl.

"Take it off once you get on stage."

I took the shawl without saying a word.

She thought I had resigned myself to fate.

In reality, I was waiting.

Waiting for the closest opportunity.

The moment the staff member turned around, I suddenly grabbed the glass perfume bottle off the adjacent vanity and smashed it hard against the mirror behind her.

Clang—

Glass shattered everywhere.

Chaos immediately broke out backstage.

Several bodyguards rushed toward the sound.

I turned and sprinted toward the other exit.

Ten meters.

Eight meters.

Five meters.

The exit was right in front of me.

My hand had already touched the doorknob.

The next second, a powerful, large hand slammed onto my shoulder, yanking me back forcefully.

I slammed hard into the wall.

Two bodyguards quickly pinned my hands.

I bit my lip tight and stopped struggling.

In those dozen seconds, I had already gotten the answer I wanted.

There was a second layer of security outside the door.

The entire building was far more tightly guarded than I had imagined.

One of the bodyguards said coldly,

"She's a troublesome one."

The other looked down at my number tag.

"Final item. Highest price."

"The boss instructed, don't ruin the face."

Those words again.

Darius had said them last night.

These people were saying them today as well.

All they ever cared about was whether the commodity was damaged.

The staff member walked over, looking at the glass shattered across the floor with a dark expression.

She didn't hit me or hurl insults at me; she merely readjusted my gown.

"If you try to escape again,"

"You'll lose the privilege of walking onto that stage yourself."

Her words sent a chill deep into my heart.

What did she mean?

They could carry someone up there instead?

I was taken back to the line.

This time, a bodyguard stood directly behind me,

completely cutting off any chance for me to try again.

A few minutes later.

The auctioneer's voice echoed from the main hall.

The women ahead of me were led out one by one.

Applause.

Bids.

Sold.

I couldn't hear the exact numbers clearly.

All I knew was that every few minutes, a woman was taken away.

Never to return.

Finally.

The staff member walked up to me.

She looked down to confirm the list.

"The final item."

"Number 17, Aria Morgan."

The shawl slipped off my shoulders.

The spotlight in the center of the stage hit me.

I walked out slowly.

The hall was larger than I had imagined.

Seated below were dozens of men and women dressed in formal evening wear. Holding up bidding paddles, their expressions were calm, as if attending an ordinary charity gala.

The only difference was.

Tonight, the object of the bidding was a human being.

The auctioneer flashed a professional smile.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

"Our final item of the night."

"Aria Morgan."

Everyone's eyes fell on me.

I didn't flinch or look away.

If I was destined not to escape today, I would at least not let them see my fear.

The auctioneer continued the introduction.

"Twenty-nine years old."

"Jewelry designer."

"In good health, no criminal record."

With every sentence he spoke, the rage inside me burned a little deeper.

Just how much information about me had Darius provided them?

The first buyer raised a paddle.

"One million."

Right after.

"One point five million."

"Two million."

The price kept climbing.

Every raised paddle felt like someone slicing off a piece of my dignity and placing it on a scale to weigh.

I clenched my fists tightly.

My nails dug into my palms.

The pain kept me sharp and focused.

Just as the price reached five million.

The hall suddenly went dead silent.

Everyone turned to look up at the central box on the second floor—the one that had remained quiet the entire night.

An old man in a black suit stepped out, bowing respectfully.

"Mr. Eamon."

The next second.

A deep, low voice reverberated from inside the box.

"Ten million."

An uproar erupted across the entire hall.

No one raised another paddle.

The auctioneer's voice trembled slightly with excitement.

"Do I hear any higher bids?"

No response.

The gavel slammed down heavily.

"Sold!"

I raised my head and looked toward that box.

The glass was one-way.

I couldn't see the person inside clearly.

I could only faintly make out a tall, imposing figure standing up.

At the same time.

In the VIP viewing area on the other side.

Darius's face flushed red with intense excitement.

He pulled Daisy into a tight hug.

"We did it!"

"I knew it! I knew he would buy her!"

Daisy gave him a kiss with a smile.

"Now, it's time to sign the contract."

The two of them walked briskly toward the second-floor VIP corridor.

Just as they reached the staircase, two bodyguards reached out and blocked their way.

Darius froze for a second.

"I'm the person in charge of tonight's partnership project."

"Mr. Eamon agreed to meet me."

The bodyguard remained expressionless.

"Wait for further notice."

The smile on Darius's face stiffened.

He wanted to explain further, but another bodyguard stepped in, holding him in place.

Meanwhile, I had already been brought into a separate private lounge by the staff.

The door closed.

A few seconds later.

The door opened again.

A tall man stepped inside slowly.

He didn't come close to me.

Nor did he scan my body the way the others had.

His eyes, from the moment he walked through the door, stayed locked onto my neck.

To be precise.

Locked onto the necklace I had worn since I was a child.

It was the only heirloom my adoptive mother had left me.

On her deathbed, she had repeatedly urged me,

"Aria, no matter what happens, never take it off."

The man spoke slowly,

his voice deep and restrained.

"That necklace."

"Who gave it to you?"

I instinctively reached up to hold the necklace.

For the very first time, I felt that this necklace, which had accompanied me for over twenty years, might be hiding a secret that even I knew nothing about.