Fuck the auction.
Fuck me me for even considering it.
And above all, fuck Hunter Draven.
I should've known better. The moment our eyes met across that cursed stage, I should've turned and run. But no, I'm a desperate fool with a terminally ill sister and no other options.
Now I'm here, in a hospital room reeking of bleach and izal, wiping my sister's arm with a damp cloth, pretending like I didn't just sell my soul to the devil in a three-piece suit.
'I own you body and soul,' he thinks this is some '90s TV show.
I roll my eyes at the memory, squeezing the cloth harder than necessary as I wipe down Rae's pale arm. She doesn't stir, still unconscious.
I swallow the lump in my throat and push the chair back, heading to the sink. My hands are shaking. I need to calm down before I start sobbing again like some tragic heroine.
There's a soft knock at the door.
I turn, startled. It's the night nurse, my aunt in scrubs poking her head in, her face drawn tight with nerves.
"Ava," she says, her voice hushed but urgent, "there are some men here. Big men. They… they asked for you by name."
My heart stutters. "What men?"
Her lips press into a line. "Honey, I don't know. They won't say what they want, but…" I shake my head, there was no need when I knew who the men were and what they want.
I slowly move toward the door, brushing my hands down the front of my shirt even though there's nothing to fix. My stomach's already twisting.
Auntie suddenly jumps in front of me, "Ava, those men, they're dangerous. I can feel it in my bones. You don't have to go. What business do you have with those people?"
I offer her a small, tired smile. "I'll be fine, Auntie. Can you please watch over Reagan tonight? I'll be back tomorrow."
She doesn't believe me. I can see it in her eyes.
Hell, I don't believe me.
But I walk out anyway.
The men waiting for me outside are as terrifying as you'd expect from Hunter Draven's pack. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black, and silent as death. They don't speak. They don't smile. One of them nods once, barely acknowledging me, then opens the back door of the car.
The ride is quiet, no music, no small talk. My mind is racing the whole way.
Is this it?
Is tonight the night I repay him?
Will I walk out tomorrow a different girl… or not at all?
I just wanted to be done with the whole thing. I sighed, rubbing my bag.
The car pulls up in front of the largest home I've ever seen. And I do mean home in the loosest sense, this place is a whole estate. Gated, grand, gothic. If this was his own house then what's his pack like?
I step out, heart thudding, palms sweaty.
They lead me through wide, polished halls, grand staircases, past expensive paintings and tall windows until we finally stop in front of double oak doors.
"He's inside," the man says, then leaves without another word.
I hesitate only a second, then push the door open.
Hunter Draven is behind a massive desk, head down, scribbling something in dark ink. He doesn't look up when I enter. His coat's off, sleeves rolled to his elbows, veins and muscles flexing with every stroke of the pen.
I take a shaky step in, forcing myself to look away from his veiny arm. "You called for me."
He glances up, just briefly. "You came."
"I figured ignoring you wasn't smart."
A ghost of a smile appears on his face and it's gone just as fast.
I stand there for what seemed like eternity. He doesn't acknowledge me after his words. After what seemed like hours, I couldn't take the silence anymore.
I swallow hard, summoning all the courage I can muster. I pull the crumpled contract from my bag, the contract the one I wrote in a rush at a corner in the hospital and hurriedly went to print.
He raises a brow when I stretch the paper forward.
"What's that?"
"Our deal," I whisper. "The one where, after you… after we… you'll let me go."
Hunter leans back against the chair, his gaze intense on me. My hands begin to tremble just from his gaze.
Hunter stands slowly, walking out from behind the table.
I take a shaky step back, my hand still outstretched.
He doesn't stop moving. Each step is slow, deliberate, measured like he's stalking prey. My throat dries up.
I take another step backwards, and another, and another until there was no place for me to run to anymore.
My back hits the wall.
Hunter stops in front of me, towering, heat radiating off his body like a furnace. The contract's still trembling in my hand between us.
His eyes drop to the paper. Then up to my face. And then…he chuckles.
I blink, stunned. Did he just chuckle?
He takes the paper from me. His eyes don't leave mine as he slowly tears the contract in half. Then again. Shreds it like it's nothing.
I gasp in shock. I spent money printing that. "You—you can't just—"
"Why not? You think this paper gives you power?" His hand brushes a strand of hair from my cheek, so gently it almost makes me dizzy. "You gave that up the second you stepped onto that stage."
My heart is pounding so loud I'm sure he hears it.
"I don't care what deal you wrote or what you've conjured up in that pretty head of yours," he murmurs. "I paid for you. That's the only contract that matters."
My breath stutters. "So what now? You take what you want and throw me away?"
He tilts his head slightly, studying me like I'm some puzzle piece that just doesn't fit the way he thought it would.
"You think I'm going to fuck you right here against this wall, is that it?" he asks, his voice low and deep sending a shiver down my spine.
My face flares up in red.
"I—"
He leans in close. Too close. His lips brush my ear. "I don't fuck tired girls with dark circles under their eyes," he whispers.
My knees nearly give out.
He pulls back, brushing his thumb across my jaw. "Go rest."
"What?" The word barely makes it out of my mouth.
"You're not here for that. Not tonight."
Before I can reply, the door creaks open. It's his beta. And with him is a woman in a black dress, graceful, polite, with a professional smile.
She bows to him, then turns to me. "Miss, please follow me."
I glance at Hunter. He's already turned away, like the whole conversation didn't just blow a hole through my chest.
So I follow.
The woman leads me down another hallway, opens a set of doors into a massive guest bedroom that smells like lavender.
She gestures politely. "You may take a bath if you wish. There are fresh towels. Your things have been brought in."
My things? I only have my handbag so what things?
I nod silently, suddenly tired of everything.
Once she's gone, I just… stand there.
The room feels like it belongs in a five-star hotel. Big bed. Velvet drapes. Soft lighting. A closet full of clothes I didn't pack. And a bathroom the size of my entire one-bedroom apartment.
I drag my hand over my face, what have I dragged myself into?
I dig into my back and pull out my phone to call auntie but the phone's dead. I hadn't charged it in hours.
I sighed and look around again, settling my mind on bathing. The bathroom is silent, save for the gentle slosh of water as I test the temperature with my fingers. Warm. Almost too warm. I like it that way. I needed it.
My clothes are already in a messy pile on the marble floor….cheap fabric wrinkled and pitiful against the pristine tiles. I feel stripped in more ways than one.
I step in front of the massive mirror above the sink, catching a glimpse of myself.
Dark circles. Hollow eyes. My ginger hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days and it truly hadn't. My face was wrinkled and rough from stress.
I don't recognize the person staring at me.
Pushing the thought away, I step over to the tub and lift one leg in, about to ease myself in when I heard it. A click and the door swings open.
I freeze. Every nerve in my body goes rigid.
There he is.
Hunter Draven.
Leaning against the frame, looking like he just walked out of some sinful daydream.
And he's staring.
Eyes locked on me…on all of me. His eyes darken with each passing second, his gaze settling on every inch of my body, my chest, stomach and even…
My breath catches. My arms fly instinctively to cover my chest, even though it's too late.
I stammer, "W–what the hell—?"
"You didn't lock the door." He replied smoothly.
"I was—" I choke on the words. "I'm naked!"
"I noticed." He doesn't move. Doesn't blink. Just keeps drinking me in with those dark, infuriatingly calm eyes.
"Leave!" I snap, reaching blindly for the towel.
But in my panic, I step on the wet edge and slip. I gasp out loud as the world tilts…
I squeeze my eyes tight, waiting to hit the cold hard floor, but I don't.
He catches me before I hit the floor, one arm wrapped tight around my waist, the other braced behind my back.
I'm pressed against him. Skin to clothes. Wet and trembling.
His breath is right there, brushing my cheek. His lips so close, I could tilt my head and…
His grip tightens around me, firmly, unmovable. My chest rises and falls against him. He says nothing. Just stares down at me with that infuriating, unreadable expression.
"You should be more careful," he murmurs, his voice hoarse and insanely deep.
I can't speak. I can barely breathe.
He lowers me gently, painfully slow, until my feet touch the ground again. His hands linger a second too long before he steps back.
I clutch the towel to my chest like it's a damn lifeline.
Hunter's eyes trail over me one last time, burning and consuming. His jaw clenched hard like he was fighting demons inside of him.
"I'll have dinner sent to your room," he says, already heading for the door. "Get some rest, Ava. You'll need it."
The door closes behind him with a soft click.
And I'm left standing there, soaked, breathless, and completely, utterly wrecked.