Daisy's POV
Immediately our feet stepped into the auction hall,
The room smelled like money, power… and blood.
Gold-lined walls reflected dim lights.
Velvet seats were arranged in rising tiers, each occupied by men who looked untouchable—tailored suits, calm expressions, eyes trained to evaluate flesh like merchandise.
I stood frozen beside him.
Lucien Vale.
He sat in the center VIP seat, relaxed, one arm resting against the armrest, legs crossed casually—as if this place belonged to him.
As if everyone here did.
"Sit."
The single word was quiet.
Commanding.
My knees trembled as I obeyed, lowering myself onto the seat beside him.
Too close.
I could feel his presence without him touching me—cold, controlled, suffocating.
Across the room, the auction began.
A bell rang once.
Then the first girl was brought forward.
My breath caught in my throat.
I recognized her.
She was one of the girls from the cruise ship. From the other night.
Her eyes were hollow. Her body wrapped in silk that didn't hide the fear shaking through her frame.
A masked auctioneer announced her "specifications" like she was livestock.
Age.
Nationality.
Obedience level.
Bidding started immediately.
Numbers rose. Voices remained calm.
I felt sick.
Another girl was brought out.
Then another.
Each one familiar.
Each one stolen from the same night.
My fingers curled into fists as tears burned behind my eyes.
Lucien leaned closer.
"Do not look away," he murmured.
I turned to him in horror.
"How can you sit here and watch this?" I whispered, my voice breaking.
His eyes never left the stage.
"Because this," he replied calmly, "is the world you saw and survived."
My chest tightened painfully.
As if summoned by his presence, several men approached the VIP section.
They were powerful—respected in the underground world.
One bowed slightly. "Lucien Vale. I heard Hong Kong has expanded its interests."
Lucien didn't look at him.
"Rumors travel fast."
Another man smiled thinly. "Is the girl
beside you part of tonight's offerings?"
My breath stopped.
Lucien's gaze snapped to the man—sharp, lethal.
"No," he said flatly.
The air shifted.
The man raised his hands in mock surrender. "Of course. Forgive my curiosity."
Lucien leaned back, his arm stretching casually behind my seat.
Possessive.
Warning.
"She is not for sale," he added quietly.
"And anyone who asks again will leave without their tongue."
Silence followed.
The men retreated.
But not all of them.
A man seated two rows behind us leaned forward, fingers laced, eyes sharp with greed and curiosity.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"A special case?" he murmured.
"I see…"
Lucien finally turned his head.
Just enough.
His grey eyes met the man's.
The smile on the man's face faltered.
Lucien didn't speak again.
He didn't have to.
Because everyone in that room already knew.
Lucien didn't say a word.
He only shifted slightly in his seat and cast a subtle glance toward one of his trusted aides standing vigilantly near the edge of the VIP section.
The tall man—the one who had driven us here, still wearing his dark shades—caught the signal instantly.
He gave a faint nod.
Then turned and walked out.
I didn't know why.
But the moment he left, a strange, crawling sensation settled deep in my stomach.
Wrong.
Everything about it felt wrong.
My fingers curled slowly against my dress, nails pressing into my palm as I tried to steady my breathing.
Why send someone away now?
What was he preparing for?
I didn't dare ask.
Beside me, Lucien remained composed, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable—like a man watching a storm he had already predicted.
And somehow…
That scared me more than the guns, the auction, or the men bidding on broken lives below us.
My heart was racing uncontrollably.
I stared at the stage again—another girl dragged forward, sobbing quietly.
"Why am I here?" I whispered. "Why make me watch?"
Lucien finally looked at me.
His grey eyes were unreadable.
"Because if you're going to survive," he said,
"You need to understand exactly what you're standing in."
The bell rang again.
Another life sold.
And I realized something horrifying.
But I still can't place a hand on it.
Soon, the auctioneer announced that the bidding was drawing to a close.
For some reason, I released a silent breath I didn't realize I had been holding.
I wanted to disappear.
"Boss Vale, everything is ready."
One of his trusted aides—the tall man who had driven us to Crestview—appeared beside Lucien.
He leaned closer, murmuring the words into his ear.
Lucien's lips curved into a dark smirk.
"Let's go."
The words were calm.
But they carried the weight of a command.
He rose to his feet.
I followed instinctively.
His bodyguards and trusted aide fell in behind him in perfect sync—expressionless, disciplined, lethal.
As we moved through the hallway of Crestview, nearing the grand entrance, the atmosphere shifted.
The doors opened.
A man walked in.
Men in tailored suits immediately formed a line behind him, moving with practiced precision.
Danger clung to him like a second skin.
Lucien halted mid-step.
So did his men.
I froze as well.
My heart pounded as my mind raced, trying—and failing—to understand who could command such presence without speaking a single word.
Slowly, I turned my gaze toward Lucien Vale.
He looked… untouchable.
Eyes cold.
Emotions unreadable.
As if he had been expecting this moment all along.
And somehow, that realization terrified me more than the stranger standing before us.
"Leaving so soon, Lucien?"
The man finally spoke.
One perfectly groomed brow lifted, his lips curved in faint amusement.
"And how unbecoming of the second young master to arrive late," Lucien scoffed, the words sharp—deliberately insulting.
The reaction was immediate.
"How dare you speak to our boss like that!"
One of the man's bodyguards broke formation, stepping forward aggressively.
In a blink, Lucien's men moved.
Guns were drawn.
Metal clicked.
Barrels aimed straight at the man and his entourage.
The hallway froze.
Lucien, however, didn't move.
He stood tall, back straight, utterly unshaken—staring at the man as though he were nothing more than an inconvenience.
Watching the scene unfold, my body trembled.
My hands shook at my sides, my heartbeat thundering so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it.
The man lifted a single hand.
His men stopped instantly.
A low chuckle left his lips.
"Are you really going to attack me here… in the open?" he asked mildly.
Then he smiled.
"Besides, business doesn't always follow schedules."
Lucien's response came without hesitation.
"My men are simply doing their job," he said coolly.
"Getting rid of pests—at any given time."
For a fraction of a second, the man's expression cracked.
Then it was gone.
Replaced by something darker.
And then—
His gaze flicked to me.
Just once.
But in that single glance, I felt stripped bare.
Like prey being noticed.
Like a possession being evaluated.
And I knew—deep in my bones—
This man wouldn't forget me.
And that single glance made my skin crawl.
"I see you've acquired something interesting," he added lightly.
Lucien stepped half a pace forward—subtle, but deliberate.
A silent barrier.
"She's not part of tonight's discussion," he replied.
The smile on the man's face widened—not offended, but entertained.
"Relax," he said. "We serve the same master, after all."
Red Syndicate.
The name wasn't spoken aloud—but it hung between them like a loaded gun.
"For now," the man added softly.
Their eyes locked.
Not rivals.
Not allies.
Something far more complicated.
Then, just as suddenly, the man stepped aside.
Does his men.
"Safe travels, Lucien," he said.
"We'll talk… soon."
Lucien didn't respond.
He only turned away.
And resumed walking.
That single action was louder than any threat.
At once, his men lowered their guns, movements precise and disciplined, then fell in behind their boss without a word.
No one stopped them.
No one dared to.
As we passed the man, I could still feel his gaze lingering on my back—slow, deliberate, unsettling.
Lucien never looked back.
But the message was clear.
This wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
I followed, my legs heavy, my thoughts spiraling.
I didn't know who that man truly was.
But one thing was painfully clear—
Lucien Vale wasn't the only monster ruling this world.
And whatever bond tied those two men together…
It was forged in blood.