Sold to the mafia king

s failure pressing heavily on my shoulders. I stood on the auction stage, my hands trembling as I hugged my arms around my b

ispers slithered through the air, assessing, calculating. I wanted to scream, to run, to disappear-but I was

," a voice call

sted. The bidd

," another m

est. My hands fisted at my sides as I fought to

fingers along the rim of his whiskey glass

tossed around as if they weren't discussing a living, breathing person. I tri

the room f

ut through the air like a

y mil

e other men hesitated, exchanging wary glan

k Mo

eath catching as I saw

harp, angular features and piercing, cold grey eyes. He exuded power-the kind that made grown men bow and

ed to bid

in Derek's tone, swallowed nervously

r the room, the de

elonged to the most dan