The auction dragged on for an hour. It was a parade of sin.
I watched as they sold shipping containers full of unmarked weapons, routes for drug trafficking in Eastern Europe, and even a politician's vote. The casual way these men bought and sold corruption made my skin crawl.
Cassian sat relaxed beside me, one arm draped over the back of my chair, his fingers idly playing with a loose strand of my hair. He looked bored. He didn't bid on anything.
"Are we buying anything?" I whispered, leaning in close so only he could hear.
"No," he replied, his eyes scanning the balcony again. "We are here to show face. To prove we aren't afraid. Buying is for people who need things. I have everything I need."
His gaze flicked to me for a microsecond, heavy and heated, before returning to the room.
Then, the lights changed. They turned crimson.
The bored murmur of the crowd vanished. Silence fell over the cavern like a shroud.
The Auctioneer stepped forward, her smile gone.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the final lot of the evening. An unscheduled addition."
A large screen descended behind her. Static flickered, then an image resolved.
My heart stopped.
It was a photograph. Black and white. Grainy. It showed a burning car on a rainy highway. And in the foreground, lying in the mud, was a child's stuffed bear.
My bear. The one I slept with every night until I was four years old.
"Lot 45," the Auctioneer announced. "The 'Morell Dossier'. Contains the unredacted police reports, witness testimonies, and the identity of the suspected kidnapper of the Morell Heiress, missing for fifteen years."
I couldn't breathe. The room spun.
"This dossier," the woman continued, "also contains the current suspected location of the girl."
A collective gasp went through the room.
I felt Cassian's hand on my knee tighten. His grip was bruising. He wasn't bored anymore. He was a statue of lethal tension.
"Do they know?" I gasped, my voice barely a squeak. "Cassian, do they know it's me?"
"Quiet," he hissed, his eyes locked on the stage.
"Bidding starts at one million dollars," the Auctioneer said.
"Two million," a voice shouted from the back.
"Three!" another yelled.
The room erupted. Everyone wanted the leverage. The Morell family was powerful; knowing where their lost princess was—or who took her—was a golden ticket to blackmail.
"Five million!"
I felt sick. They were bidding on my life. They were bidding on the coordinates to my location. If someone bought that file, they would come for me.
"Ten million," a lazy voice drawled from the table next to us.
Luca.
He was nursing his broken wrist in a sling, but he held his paddle up with his good hand. He turned to us, a smirk playing on his lips. He looked at Cassian, then at me.
"I've always loved a good treasure hunt," Luca said, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Imagine what Don Vittorio would pay to get his little girl back... or what he'd pay to kill the man who took her."
He knew. He suspected.
"Ten million going once..." the Auctioneer called.
Cassian didn't move. He didn't reach for his paddle.
"Cassian," I grabbed his arm, panic clawing at my throat. "Do something! You can't let him have it!"
"If I bid," Cassian murmured, his voice deadly calm, "I confirm that the information is valuable. I confirm that I have something to hide."
"If you don't bid, he finds out the truth!" I hissed. "He finds out I'm here!"
"Ten million going twice..."
Luca grinned, seeing Cassian's hesitation. He thought he had won. He thought he had cornered the wolf.
Cassian sighed. It was the sound of a man deciding to burn the world down.
He didn't raise his paddle. He just spoke.
"Twenty million."
The room went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.
Heads whipped around to stare at us. Twenty million dollars for a cold case file? It was an insane amount of money.
Luca's smile vanished. "Twenty million? You're bluffing, Vance."
Cassian slowly turned his head to look at Luca.
"Do I look like a man who bluffs?"
The Auctioneer recovered her composure. "Twenty million to the Shadow Syndicate. Going once. Going twice."
She slammed the gavel down.
"Sold."
A waiter brought a silver tray to our table. On it sat a small, black USB drive.
Cassian took it. He didn't look at it. He slipped it into his breast pocket, right over his heart.
He stood up, pulling me with him.
"We're leaving," he said, his voice tight.
"Cassian," Luca called out as we turned to go. The smirk was back, sharper than before. "Twenty million dollars to hide a secret? That must be some girl you've got there."
Cassian stopped. He didn't turn around.
"She's priceless," he said.
Then he marched me out of the hall, his grip on my arm iron-hard. We moved fast, ignoring the stares, ignoring the whispers.
As soon as we were in the elevator, the doors sliding shut to hide us from the wolves, Cassian collapsed against the wall. He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for ten minutes.
He looked at me, his eyes wild.
"That was close," he rasped.
"You spent twenty million dollars," I whispered, staring at him. "Just to keep them from finding me."
"I would have spent every cent I have," he said, pushing off the wall and stepping toward me. The small space felt suddenly suffocating. "I told you, Elena. You are mine. No one else gets to hunt you."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the USB drive. He held it up between us.
"But now we have a problem," he said darkly.
"What?"
"I bought it to keep it from Luca," Cassian said, his thumb brushing the metal casing. "But now... I have the file. Which means I have the police reports."
He looked at me, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
"This drive contains the truth about that night, Elena. The unredacted truth."
My heart hammered.
"Do you know what's on it?" I asked.
"No," he admitted. "I know what I did. But I don't know what the police found. I don't know what your father told them."
He held the drive out to me.
"Do you want to know?"