The auction house buzzed with tension. Wealthy elites, power brokers, and underworld figures filled the grand hall, their eyes fixed on the screen.
Ochieng's past was on sale.
His heart pounded, but his face remained unreadable.
"Who is selling this?" Valeria whispered beside him.
Ochieng didn't answer. He was already scanning the room, looking for the puppeteer pulling the strings.
Then—a voice rang out.
"Starting bid: Five million dollars."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Ochieng's jaw tightened.
This wasn't just about money.
This was about power.
And he wouldn't let anyone steal his past from him.
Ochieng lifted his hand.
"Ten million."
The room stilled.
Someone laughed.
A man in a tailored black suit leaned forward. "Fifteen million."
Valeria inhaled sharply. "Do you know who that is?"
Ochieng's eyes locked on the bidder.
Lucien Rykov.
A name whispered in fear.
The head of the Rykov Syndicate.
And one of the most dangerous men alive.
---
As the bidding war escalated, a woman entered the auction hall.
She was breathtaking—long raven hair, a crimson silk dress that clung to her curves, and eyes like burning embers.
She was trouble.
Ochieng felt her gaze settle on him.
"Who is she?" he asked.
Valeria's lips curled.
"Amara. The one woman Lucien Rykov has never been able to tame."
Ochieng didn't break eye contact with Amara.
For a split second, he saw it.
A smirk.
A challenge.
She was here for him.
Lucien leaned back. "Fifty million."
The room gasped.
Ochieng barely blinked.
"One hundred million."
Silence.
Lucien's eyes darkened. "You're playing a dangerous game, Ochieng."
Ochieng smirked. "I don't play. I win."
The auctioneer hesitated, then slammed the gavel.
"Sold."
A slow clap echoed.
Amara.
She stepped forward, eyes gleaming.
"You just made a powerful enemy, Ochieng."
He smirked. "Then I guess I should introduce myself properly."
-