The Bratva’s Auctioned Bride (Levov Bratva #10)

Chapter 3 - Lara

I had never felt more objectified or dirty than I did in that moment, trapped on stage being shown off like some kind of prized pig.

The bright lights didn’t ease up even as my eyes tried to adjust to them, preventing me from seeing who was bidding on me. A part of me was grateful, given how disgusting the whole thing was, which would surely be reflected through the clientele.

Yet I was confused and on edge, wondering who would be bidding on me, who would be deranged enough to pay for another human being. It was barbaric and cruel, especially given how I was forced into it, captured just for this purpose—how all the other women and I had no choice but to go along with it as if we didn’t have thoughts or feelings of our own.

I wasn’t a human to any of them. I was something to be captured and sold like a commodity. It was disgusting, and I hated every moment of it.

As the first bids came in, I couldn’t shake the initial shock that coursed through me as more and more men placed their bids, soon turning it into a war. They went back and forth, the auctioneer sounding more and more thrilled as the number went up higher and higher.

I tried to pay attention, given how my fate was apparently being decided for me, but it was nearly impossible to focus beneath those bright lights and the fear that gripped me as a damning thought ate away at me; regardless of how hard they fought each other, or how high the number became, I would be sent off with whomever inevitably won. I’d be their prize, and they’d get to do whatever they wanted with me.

I’d have no choice but to go along with it, and that was enough to make my heart hammer in my chest. As if the room was closing in around me, I could feel my pulse raging in my ears, and I couldn’t focus on anything but the stage’s illuminated edge.

I knew that I could try and fight against the winner, but I had no idea what to expect. I wouldn’t know whom I’d be up against, or what they’d be capable of. Given the numbers that were being thrown around, I was surrounded by rich, influential men, and surely they’d have more than enough resources to keep me subdued.

Worse, if they decided I wasn’t worth the trouble, I could be killed off just as easily.

While I knew my last name came with more than enough reasons for someone to want me in their possession, hearing that volleying of bidding and witnessing that desperation firsthand made my skin crawl.

My stomach twisted every time I heard their voices as they placed their bids, blind to who exactly they were, along with their intentions.

At that moment, I was nothing more than a piece of meat with a notorious name, and I just wanted to run. I wanted to flee and get as far away as physically possible, but I knew better than that. Besides, even if I did want to run, my legs wouldn’t carry me. I was frozen in place, pathetically holding up my card and silently pleading for it to all be over.

I hated this feeling of doom and uncertainty, like every individual right and choice were being stripped from me one by one.

I wanted to go home. I wanted to walk out of that building and never return. I just wanted things to go back to normal.

As I suffered internally for some time while the bidding went on, going back and forth between what seemed like two individuals, the auctioneer finally closed the bidding once the other gave up and the winner was announced.

My stomach ached as I was hit with another wave of fear, completely missing who it was. I couldn’t see them anyway from the lights, but regardless, I was still just as terrified.

If the seedy club said anything about its clientele and the people willing to participate in some underground human auction, then I knew I had every right to be terrified of whoever I was stuck with.

As a round of reluctant clapping moved through the crowd of participants, the auctioneer sounding far too pleased with the amount I had been purchased for, I could hardly feel my legs or the air in my lungs.

I felt completely numb, aside from the raging beat of my heart.

Before long, the guard from before with the gentler touch rounded me up again and guided me off stage, wearing a wide smile.

“Not bad, Levov Princess. You exceeded expectations,” he said triumphantly as he moved me backstage, passing whoever was up next.

I already knew I probably resembled the woman I had seen before it was my turn—overwhelmed, disoriented, and deathly afraid of the fate ahead of me.

Even if I wanted to say something to the guard leading me down a different hall, I couldn’t. My throat burned and felt as if it had closed up completely, only allowing me to pull in shallow, weak breaths.

I stumbled slightly as I was pulled around a corner and brought to a smaller, private room. The walls and floors were concrete, finished with a single wooden bench. There wasn’t a single window, and given how small it was, the space seemed even worse than the first room I woke up in.

“Sit,” the man said, giving me a final once-over with a satisfied smirk as I did exactly that, my legs feeling too weak to hold me up. He pushed back his sandy-blonde hair as he chuckled to himself.

Given the chance to actually look at him, a sense of confusion settled over me. He seemed younger than I would’ve expected. His features weren’t quite as defined or sharp as someone more mature, and I couldn’t help but wonder how old he was. In my mind, I assumed around early twenties.

“It’s too bad we have to let you go, Levov. But money is money. The winner will be here soon enough to claim their prize. Don’t look too excited about it.”

The teasing in his voice only stoked my anger more, erasing that slight hope I had of him being a weaker link—a gentler force I could potentially convince to help me. That idea was completely gone, and I bit back the urge to lunge at him.

If my hands weren’t bound, I would’ve considered clawing his eyes out.

He gave me one last smirk before stepping out of the tiny room and closing the heavy door behind him, locking it.

The moment I was alone, I looked around the space, finding only gray cement walls and a single camera in one corner, angled directly at me. It made my stomach clench more, and I took in a shaken breath.

Given the chance to sit in what seemed like deafening silence then, I swallowed hard and tried to not give in to the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

I was so scared—terrified of what was ahead of me, and of what I’d possibly have to endure.

I had been sold to someone I didn’t know, left to wait for them to come and claim me as their prize. I didn’t know what the extent of that would entail, but I hated even thinking about it. It made my blood run cold.

Sitting on that hard bench, I made myself think about my brothers. I imagined them breaking into the club and coming to rescue me as they had their own wives.

While I had never experienced those moments myself, I heard about their successful hit jobs and how they’d stop at nothing to protect the people they loved. I could only hope the same would apply to me, and that they’d be up to their necks in worry about where I was.

I tried to have faith in them. I knew they cared about me, and I knew they’d do whatever possible to keep me safe, but as time stretched on and the minutes passed until I couldn’t keep track anymore, that hope was beginning to dwindle.

Not only did I put distance between myself and my brothers’ business to stay as blissfully unaware of the unsavory aspects of it all, but I also did it to safeguard myself from this exact situation. I didn’t want anything to do with it, but I was forced into a human auction regardless.

After some time, the lock on the other side shifted and released, then the heavy door opened up again. Instinctively, I sat up straight as my whole body tensed with near-painful anticipation.

Just pray you get a good one.

Those words rammed against my skull as I waited for the apparent winner to make themselves known.

As the door opened, I saw a heavily built guard first, dressed in more formal work attire. He was soon eclipsed by a thinner, yet strong, frame carried on long legs clad in expensive-looking clothes.

My eyes drifted up, and that previous fear I had seemed to pause within me, frozen as I took him in. I half expected an older man with an almost greasy appearance to match the cruelty of his participation in the auction, but to my surprise, the opposite was true.

The man seemed younger—late thirties, I presumed—with a head of loose, medium-brown curls that were neatly trimmed and pushed out of his face, aside from a stray that dangled above his equally dark eyes.

The shock of seeing a handsome man instead of a disgusting one left me speechless, and while I should’ve had much more to say, I didn’t. I couldn’t think of anything suitable at that moment. I was too stunned by how attractive he was.

He stepped into the small space with his arms folded behind his back, looking a lot more relaxed and contemplative than I would’ve expected. His guards stood behind him, waiting at the door as they surveyed their surroundings.

It seemed like he was an important man, even if I had never seen him before.

While I was mostly not involved in the crime world, I had spent enough time going to events and charity galas to become familiar with some prominent figures from the community, all busy doing the same work I was, which meant I knew some crime families and their members, yet I'd never seen him before.

Still, if he managed to outbid everyone else in the club, then that meant he was someone—and he had enough power and influence to put us both in this position.

He looked me over with a satisfied grin and a hint of something I couldn’t quite place as he stepped closer to the point where I could make out the slight dusting of freckles across his cheeks.

“I’m Alexander Novikov, but call me Alex. It seems you’re my spoil of the night, Lara Levov.”

His tone was softer than I imagined, but it had a cunning smoothness to it that made my skin crawl.

Even if he seemed charming with the faint curl of his lip, everything in me was screaming to be on guard. He had bought me at an auction, after all, and I had no way of knowing what his intentions were.

Regardless of how attractive I found him, he was no better than any of those men in the club, and I couldn’t trust him.