The Highest Bidder

❊ Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ Fᴏᴜʀ ❊

I watched Mr. Bianchi through narrowed eyes as he messed with his phone. He didn't pay me any attention whatsoever, but he probably didn't think that he needed to. We were driving at a pretty high rate of speed, and the doors were probably locked.

One look told me that I was right.

He looked up and our eyes met. He tilted his head. "Am I wrong to assume that you have questions?"

"Am I wrong to assume that you're a pretentious asshole," I shot back.

His lip twitched and he looked back down to his phone. "If you do have questions, go ahead and ask."

"What's your full name," I asked.

"Enzo Bianchi." He never looked up at me.

I cocked an eyebrow. He thought it was fine to actually tell me his full name after everything? Was he really that sure that I wouldn't be able to escape him?

"Age?"

He blinked once. "I'm thirty. Are these really the questions you want to know the answers to?"

"What do you want with me?" I needed those two things before I got down to the real questions. When the police asked me what was going on and who purchased me, I'd have the answers that they needed to know. I made sure to search my surroundings when he took off my blindfold so that I could give them an approximate location of the building where the human auction took place.

It was surprising to me that he didn't keep the blindfold on so that I didn't know where we were going. But I was able to watch as we got onto the highway and went east. I'd be able to tell the police what his home looked like - or where ever it was he was taking me. It was a bad idea on his part, but he probably didn't think I'd be able to escape.

He glanced up. "What do you think I want with you, Eva?"

I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to the roads and road signs. "How the absolute hell should I know? You could be bringing me somewhere to torture me for all I know. Hell, you could be taking me to some sort of sex cave where men pay to rape me."

"Sex cave." His eyes glittered in amusement. "I can assure you that I am not taking you to some sort of sex cave. I did not pay one hundred fifty nine thousand dollars for another man to put his hands on you."

"Then what," I snapped, leaning forward to get closer to him. I dug my fingernails into the plush leather seat. "What the fuck do you want with me?"

He sighed and slid his phone into his black pants pocket. "First thing's first, Eva. You need to stop cursing at me."

I sneered. "Awh, does the rich bastard have a problem with bad words?"

He didn't react whatsoever. He only watched me carefully. If he would have paid attention at the auction, he would have known what kind of person I was. He bought me, even knowing I would be "difficult to break". What did that make him? Some sort of masochist? The act of breaking me would put more of a mental strain on him, rather than me.

Enzo's lip twitched into a small smile. "The silent auction is held every six months and has been going on for twelve years in that building. I've been attending that auction for five years now and I try to purchase a woman every time. The people that attend are a wide variety of people. There are mafia members, slave traders, slave owners, sex traffickers, and even killers who get off by killing the people they purchase. You'd be surprised by the amount of people who attend the auction."

He looked relatively disgusted even speaking of it, which only served to confuse me. So what category did he fall under? He didn't want anyone else touching me, so that crossed out sex trafficking. He didn't look like the murdering type, but most serial killers didn't. I didn't think he would trade me to someone, especially after spending that amount of money on me. So that left the mafia and a slave owner.

"I'm none of the above." He seemed to read my mind and answer the unasked question. "I only purchase one woman every time so that I can keep them under a contract for one year then send them back to their lives. The auction checks up on the status of the women they sell for one year, then they stop. They don't want to spend the time looking for someone, only for them to be set free right away. So I have to keep the women under contract for a year until they stop checking up on them."

"But if you purchase a woman every time, shouldn't you have more women in your home," I asked, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

He nodded slowly. "Yes, I should. But I don't allow them to see the women I purchase. If they do happen to come into my home, they believe that I've killed the rest of them. They believe I kill my purchases off after a year, and I haven't said anything differently."

So was he some sort of good guy? "So if you're only in it to save them, why don't you buy all of them?"

"Even I don't have the money for that," he said. "And even if I did, it would look rather suspicious if I went in there and bought five girls each time."

"So, why me?" I was still confused. The fact that he purchased a woman every time, just to allow them to be set free, I would have thought that he would have chosen one of the other women. The auctioneer even said that I was difficult. That shouldn't have made him want me, out of everyone.

He leaned back in his seat, eyeing me. "Because strong-willed women don't last a day in the hands of a sex trafficker or a slave owner. That eighteen-year-old girl had a better chance than you out there. You would have been killed the first time you talked back to them."

I pursed my lips and turned my attention away from him. It was a lot to take in, but if he was telling the truth, he wasn't the worst person to be stuck with. I kind of felt bad for the other women. They could have had a chance at freedom if it weren't for me.

So I'd have to work for Enzo Bianchi for one year, then I could go back to my old life? My apartment wouldn't be waiting for me in a year. My job wouldn't wait for me to return and they would replace me with someone else. My family would more than likely presume I was dead.

There would be no going back to my old life. After this, I wouldn't have a life to go back to.