ANYA'S POV
Silence fell like a blade. Instant. Absolute.
The entire arena froze. Even the auctioneer faltered.
All eyes shifted upward. Top balcony.
A private box draped in black velvet. A single figure sat within.
Black mask.
Dark attire.
Still as stone.
He had not moved once since the beginning. Had not participated. Had not leaned forward.
Until now.
"Double," he repeated calmly.
No one countered.
Not a whisper.
The white-haired rich man, who had just bid 50 million, lowered his hand immediately. The man who had bid eight-fifty earlier leaned back slowly, conceding without protest.
The auctioneer cleared his throat, his voice regaining its practiced cadence, though a thread of deference now laced it.
"Going once... Going twice... Sold! To the gentleman in the upper balcony!"
The gavel slammed down, a sound of undeniable finality that reverberated through the hushed hall.
My gaze lifted despite myself. Our eyes met. Even from that distance, I felt it.
He wasn't looking at me like I was something to take, or even something to play with.
Just… looking.
Like he was weighing stone, or checking the edge of a blade. Cold. Final.
As if the purchase had already been calculated long before the auction began. That frightened me more than lust ever could. Lust I could understand.
Calculation was worse.
The cage rolled backward. Curtains began closing again, plunging the arena into a softer, less revealing light. The murmurs resumed, subdued, like a flock of birds settling after a loud clap.
Business concluded.
The door to my cage unlocked with a metallic click. Two guards, faceless men in dark suits, entered.
They grabbed my arms firmly, their grip impersonal but unyielding. I stiffened but did not fight.
Not here.
Not now.
The chain forced me into small, humiliating steps as they pulled me toward a side corridor. My bare feet scraped on the polished stone, the sound lost in the hushed shuffle of the receding crowd.
As I was led away, I heard a whisper from one attendant near the stairs.
"The Kingpin."
The title carried weight. Understanding rippled through nearby attendants, their heads subtly lowering.
Kingpin.
Not just wealthy.
Not just influential.
Powerful.
That explained the silence. That explained the immediate surrender of every other bidder.
They descended stone steps beneath the arena, the sounds of the retreating auction fading behind heavy doors. The air grew colder.
Darker.
My shackles clinked softly with every step, a constant, mocking rhythm. I had escaped death, only to wake in chains.
And now I belonged to a man I had never spoken to.
My jaw tightened. Fine. If this was a new world, I would survive it. Even here. Even like this.
The corridor ended at a large iron door. It opened with a heavy groan, revealing a brief glimpse of the outside world – a sliver of dark night, rain still falling.
Inside waited a fancy car. Black. Elegant. A subtle crest, hard to see clearly in the dim light, was engraved on its door.
The guards lifted me inside. I stumbled because of the chain but caught myself before falling completely.
The interior was lined in dark velvet, a stark contrast to the rough stone and iron I'd become accustomed to. Opposite me, he sat.
The Kingpin. Up close, he was taller than I expected.
Broad shoulders. Composed posture. The black mask still concealed the upper half of his face, but now I could make out the sharp line of his jaw, the firm set of his lips.
He did not greet me. Did not speak. Did not even look at me immediately, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
The door shut with a soft click, sealing us in. The car began to move, its engine a low purr against the rhythmic creak of the suspension.
Only then did he raise his gaze, turning his head slowly. Silence filled the space between us, thick with unspoken questions.
His eyes were sharp. Piercing. Observant.
Unwaveringly assessing. Simply measuring.
I refused to lower my head. If I was to survive this – I would not begin by bowing. The chain between my ankles clinked softly as the car rolled forward, a small, involuntary movement.
His gaze dropped briefly to the iron restraint, a flicker of something unreadable. Then back to my face.
"You did not cry," he said finally. His voice was deep. Calm. Controlled. It was not a question.
"No," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.
"Most do."
I said nothing. Silence stretched again, the only sound the gentle hum of the car.
"You understood what was happening," he continued.
"Yes."
A pause.
"And?"
My heartbeat quickened, a drum against my ribs.
"And I intend to survive it."
For the first time, something flickered in his gaze. Not amusement. Interest.
The faintest shift, a softening around the edges of his eyes that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"You speak boldly for someone in chains."
I met his eyes without flinching, a spark of my own defiance meeting his unwavering stare.
"I am in chains either way."
A long silence followed, punctuated only by the distant rumble of thunder. Then.
"Remove them."
The Kingpin reached into an inner pocket of his tailored jacket. From an inner pocket, he drew out a small, intricate key.
He leaned forward, his masked face now closer than ever, and I could feel the subtle radiance of his body heat as his presence filled my personal space.
A faint, expensive scent, sandalwood and something metallic, like fine steel, drifted from him. He deftly unlocked the shackles around my ankles.
The iron fell away, clattering softly on the velvet carpet. The sudden freedom felt almost unreal, a lightness in my legs I hadn't realized I'd missed.
I flexed my feet slowly, experimentally, the rough impressions of the iron still on my skin. The Kingpin watched every movement, his expression unreadable behind the mask.
"You belong to me now," he said. There was no emotion in it. Just fact.
I held his gaze, unwilling to concede even that.
"For what purpose?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, the only sign of his displeasure at my audacity.
"That," he said quietly, his voice dropping to a dangerous register, "depends on you."
The car continued through the darkened city, the rain now a soft drumming on the roof. I did not know where I was.
Did not know this world. Did not know the man who had just purchased my freedom from something worse.
But I knew one thing clearly. The auction had not been the true danger. This was.
And I would have to learn very quickly. What kind of man a Kingpin was.
CHAPTER 2 END