Mikhail

23

"You," Julio mused, interest peaking once he spotted me in line with a handful of other women, "I've been looking forward to this moment. Seeing you like this."

Whatever tolerance I had built up with the constant drugs left me far more sober than the rest, who could barely keep their eyes open.

I was dazed, but all too aware of my surroundings.

I had been driven to an unknown location, where I had been administered a smaller dose of the yellowish liquid.

Along with the rest of the women present, I had been stripped, washed down and readied for what I could only assume was the auction.

I was cold, shivering and disgusted.

I decided then and there that I would survive this. If I was to be sold and left Julio's demented way of avenging his father's death, I would be better able to fight and escape.

We were lined up like cattle, while heavily armed men stood guard by each corner of the otherwise empty room.

We had all been guided in here through a simple black door, but the only way out were the double doors, which I recognised were the ones leading to the round platform around which all the disgusting men would be sat in their private boxes, waiting to bid on the ones shown tonight.

"You're sick," I gritted out, too stubborn for my own good as I glared at him before me.

Without a second thought his hand collided aggressively with the side of my head, knocking me to the floor with a yelp. Blunt pain shot through my body, but only added fuel to my fire of fury.

My heart raced, eyes watering at the harsh slap. His polished shoes shined in front of me, and I spat on them daringly.

My hair was grabbed in to a painful hold, with the help of which I was lifted back up onto my feet as if I weighed no more than a feather.

I continued to glare at Julio and his demented smile, while one of his men held me in place with a tightened hold on my hair, my head jerked back firmly.

"We'll find a nice home for you, Natalia," he assured me ghoulishly, pervertedly eyeing my bare front as if he hadn't just hit me.

The women lined beside me remained as unfazed, not having been drugged as heavily before as I had.

Maybe I had built up a tolerance, or maybe Julio wanted to torture me further. Maybe he wanted to have me coherent enough to know exactly what was happening to me, to never forget the way he had undoubtedly won this battle.

"Our VIPs arrive soon. They'll get the first looks of you," Julio continued, proudly looking over the array of women on line, "you'd be lucky to go home with one of them. A Wellesley girl? Even with an attitude you'll fly off the shelf."

I ground my teeth together, murderous glare unwaveringly settled against his. I held myself back from the itch to attack, knowing it would only end up hurting me. I would wait until I was out of here before escaping.

For once, a somewhat rational plan was the better option over instinct fuelled by strong emotions.

One of the women collapsed to the floor, and Julio's attention snapped toward her. I could easily have kneed him, punched him or attacked him, but didn't. She yelled out in agony as she was yanked up similarly as I was still held up, and all I could do was fight against the urge to kill the disgusting man before me.

The simple black door was opened by one of the armed men inside the room, and my eyes all but bulged out of my head at the first VIP to enter.

His dark eyes only momentarily found mine, before they averted as if he hadn't recognised me.