Mr. Robert's smirk deepened, dark and satisfied, as he watched him. The hatred burning in his son's eyes seemed to amuse him—perhaps even please him. In many ways, that very hatred was what made Scott his favorite devilish son.
Mr. Robert remained still for a moment, as though weighing Scott's words in silence. Then he let out a quiet, almost amused breath.
"A puzzle," Mr. Robert repeated softly. "Always a puzzle with you. Mind sharing it? I would be more than willing to help. But be careful—men who believe they are solving puzzles often fail to realize they are the ones being studied."
A dark smile curved on his lips as he finished speaking, before turning away and beginning to leave the room.
Scott's fists tightened at his sides, the tension in his frame unmistakable.
Without looking back, Mr Robert added.
"I have noticed your subtle movements toward your stepmother," Mr. Robert said coldly.
"I do not need to elaborate for you to understand my meaning, but let it be firmly etched in your mind—if I discover anything suspicious happening behind my back, I will have no choice but to remind you who holds the true power in this estate."
He gripped the door handle, pushed it open, and stepped outside.
Pausing briefly, he cast a final glance over his shoulder, a dark smirk forming on his lips, before finally shutting the door behind him.
Scott rose from the couch and walked over to retrieve a cigarette and lighter. He placed the cigarette between his lips and lit it, drawing in a long, steady drag.
He closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly as he held the smoke for a moment before slowly exhaling it through his nostrils.
A knock sounded at the door—gentle, calm, almost hesitant.
But he did not turn. He did not move. He did not ask who it was.
He had no time for that.
His anger was still simmering, maddening and uncontained, and he needed to calm his nerves before it drove him to do something reckless—something that would send chills through the entire state.
The door opened gently, revealing Kyla standing there with a tray of food in her hands. She paused for a moment, her gaze resting on him, before stepping inside.
Quietly, she closed the door behind her.
Her legs trembled slightly as she walked toward the table, carefully placing the tray down and settling it in place.
"I brought you your dinner," she said softly. "I noticed your plate was still untouched, meaning you didn't join your family for dinner, so I decided to bring it up to your room instead."
She clutched her clothes tightly, beads of sweat forming across her forehead as she spoke.
No response came from him.
She turned to leave, but before she could reach the door, a strong hand caught her and pulled her back, slamming her against the wall beside them. Scott caged her there, his presence close and inescapable.
She swallowed hard, her eyes darting toward him as her heart raced repeatedly, her breath catching in her throat.
His gaze remained locked with hers—unyielding, intense, and impossible to ignore.
This small-framed woman was the only person who had ever touched him without provoking irritation. Instead of anger, her touch seemed to calm the storm raging within him.
He took her trembling hand and guided it to his cheek. Her eyes widened in shock.
He felt both cold and warm beneath her touch, and a faint smile curved on his lips. Kyla's eyes widened even further.
"The only hand permitted to touch me from today onward," he said quietly.
He then lifted her chin with his fingers. She swallowed hard, his faint smile still lingering as he held her gaze.
He brought her hand closer to his lips and pressed a deep kiss on it, and her eyes widened even further.
Kyla couldn't believe her eyes.
She immediately pulled her hand away, breaking free as she stepped back, her breath coming fast, uneven, heavy with shock.
Her gaze locked onto him.
Scott turned to meet it.
"Do you even realize I'm your stepmother?" she said, her voice tight, strained, yet edged with urgency. "You might be older, but I'm married to your father. If he sees us like this do you really think he'll spare me?"
She stepped closer, pointing at him, her hand trembling with suppressed fear and anger.
"He'll kill me," she continued, her voice lowering, turning colder, sharper. "And dying is the last thing I want. Yes, I've endured hell in this house—his treatment, everything—but I still want to live."Her eyes hardened.
"I already have a plan. I'll pay off the debt, and I'll get a divorce. But until then… staying here is my only option."
A pause.
"Don't ruin that for me," she said, her voice dropping into a cold, unyielding tone. "Stay the hell away from me, Scott." Her eyes flashed with anger—sharp, resolute, unshaken.
Scott's lips curled into a dark, ruthless smirk, he brushed his hair back, his gaze lowering onto her—slow, deliberate, heavy with meaning, then he started walking toward her.
"I can never see you as my father's woman," he said, his voice low, edged with quiet cruelty. "That marriage of yours… it was forced. You never had a choice."
Another step.
"You were the price your parents couldn't pay," he continued, his tone sharpening. "So they handed you over. Sold you to him like you were nothing more than a debt to be settled." His eyes darkened.
"And he turned you into a machine—something to use, to control and yet, you stand there," he finished softly, almost mockingly, "still calling yourself a married woman."
Kyla swallowed, her breath faltered, and without realizing it, she began to step back.
"Yes… I am a married woman," Kyla said, her voice steady despite the storm beneath it. "We stood at that altar. We exchanged vows. We promised each other—till death do us part."
A pause.
"And I will remain a married woman," she continued, her tone sharpening, hardening. "No matter how he treats me… no matter how he reduces me, uses me, breaks me—like I'm nothing more than something to be torn apart." Her eyes burned.
"But to the world and to myself I am still his wife." she stepped forward, closing the distance, she looked up at him without flinching.
"And you," she added, her voice dropping into a cold, warning edge, "should stay away from me, i shouldn't have to remind you what your father is capable of." The words hung between them—sharp, dangerous, final.
Kyla turned to leave, but barely two steps out when a firm hand caught her, pulling her back until her back pressed against his chest. Her hair tumbled across her face, and she froze, wide-eyed.
Scott wrapped his arms around her tightly, the pressure firm but protective, anchoring her in place.
"I told you," he murmured, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down her spine, "you're the only one allowed to touch me. Do you even understand what I meant by that, little stepmom?"
Kyla's breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, her pulse racing in a way that was both terrifying and intoxicating.
"To the world, you're married to my father," he whispered, his voice low and deliberate, "but to me you're the only woman allowed to touch me. I won't acknowledge your marriage with him. You exist in my world too."
He leaned closer, a mischievous, almost dangerous smirk tugging at his lips.
"And sharing you with my dad? That will make things far more interesting. Seeing him angry—watching him lose control—won't that be thrilling, little stepmom?" He added the words with a sly, almost playful smirk.
Kyla's eyes met her reflection—and through the glass, she saw him: the devil incarnate, staring back at her with that same mischievous, dangerous glint.
She swallowed hard, a shiver running down her spine.
"Look at yourself and tell me how pretty you are, little stepmom," Scott whispered, a sly smile tugging at his lips. Kyla swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on her own reflection.
Scott's arms shifted slightly, drawing her closer against his chest. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur.
"You see yourself the way I do, don't you?" he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Strong. Beautiful. Mine."
Kyla's fingers trembled against her clothes but she couldn't tear her eyes away from him—or from her reflection.
Every inch of Scott pressed against her seemed to claim a part of her she had tried so hard to protect.
"Seems you've completely forgotten why I'm here—and why my life turned out this way" Kyla spat, her voice sharp, trembling with anger. "I'm married to your goddamn father. I'm not sorry for what I said—he's a monster, and you know exactly what he's capable of"
Her gaze locked on him, fierce, unyielding.
"I know exactly what he's capable of. Call him whatever you want—I'll even do you the favor of cheering you up," Scott said, his smile widening.
She could hardly believe her ears.
"When I was lost in the dark, you saved me. Your arms, your words—they were nothing short of magic. That's why you'll always be seen differently by me in this world. And, just as before, you're the only hand I allow to touch me, the only woman I'm permitted to hold like this," he added, leaning closer and pressing a deep, lingering kiss against her neck.
Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but then she snapped them open, broke free, and ran for the door.
She yanked it open and fled.
Scott let out a low, short chuckle, drawing deeply from his cigarette and exhaling a slow, deliberate plume of smoke.
He lifted his phone and dialed a number, his expression hardening as he strode toward the glass wall.
One hand slipped casually into his pocket as he paused, staring out.
"Bring her in tonight," he said, his voice cold and merciless. "Her daughter stays out of it." He exhaled, letting a slow, deliberate plume of smoke curl from his nostrils.
*
*
____
-12PM-
«CHICAGO MILLAND, THE HELLISH VIRGIN'S— EMPIRE»
The music pounded through the club, drowned beneath the roaring cheers of the crowd.
The air was thick—heavy with heat, sweat, and reckless indulgence.
In the neon-lit corners of the packed room, couples clung to each other, lost in their own worlds.
Stacy was already wasted.
She laughed breathlessly as she swayed to the rhythm, moving in front of a seated man.
She laughed loosely as she moved to the rhythm, swaying in front of a seated man. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer as she pressed herself against him, grinding without restraint.
She kept brushing her butts against his face, slow and deliberate, lost in the haze of alcohol and music.
He didn't resist.
Instead, he leaned in, burying his face against her butts, as the crowd roared and the night swallowed everything else whole.
At the stairs, several sluts stood stark naked, taking turns licking each other's clitoris, their moans loud and unrestrained as they echoed through the space.
The sounds blended with the pounding music, raw and unapologetic.
Just along the other staircase, Bianca was getting fucked by one of her sex mate.
Her hands were tied behind her back with his belt, her face pressed firmly against the wall as he held her in place. He kept thrusting into her—faster, deeper, more forceful with each movement.
Her breathing grew uneven.
The wall seemed to vibrate with the intensity of it.
All around them, the chaos of the night carried on—loud, wild, and completely out of control.
"Yeah… this feels so fucking good," she moaned breathlessly, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations.
He kept driving into her, hitting deeper with every thrust.
She shut her eyes, a wide smile spreading across her lips as sweat slicked down her body, her thoughts drifting—imagining it was Scott, taking her hard and without mercy.
She bit down on her lip, her breathing growing heavier, more uneven.
"Faster… harder!" she cried out, her voice louder this time.
He obeyed instantly, increasing his pace, each thrust more forceful than the last, the sharp sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.
In a private corner, richly decorated and set apart from the chaos, red and blue lights cast a dim, shifting glow over expensive couches arranged with quiet luxury.
Scott sat there with Adrian and Max.
Only Scott's seat remained untouched.
He leaned back, his shirt partly open, a cigarette resting between his fingers. Several burnt-out ones littered the table before him, and he idly flicked his lighter, the flame sparking on and off as he took slow drags.
From the shadows, girls watched him—drawn in, their gazes lingering, curious, seductive.
But Scott didn't react.
He wasn't the type to be swayed by seductive looks or silent invitations.
In fact, he had never been close to a woman before—never allowed that kind of contact—except for his mother, his little stepmother, and Stacy.
Something in his past had carved that distance deep into him, desire, that pull others seemed to lose themselves in so easily, had always felt absent.
Untouched.
Unfamiliar.
The faint glow of the lights caught on his earrings and watch, making them glint subtly as he sat there—still, distant, and entirely unreadable.
A slut was riding Adrian's d†ck, moving in a steady rhythm as he gripped her hips and slapped her ass, pushing her closer, urging her on as she continued riding him.
Her breasts rose and fell with each motion, her breathing heavy, her moans loud and unrestrained as they cut through the noise.
In front of Max, another slut was on her knees, taking his dick into her mouth, sucking and massaging his dick with deliberate intensity.
She moaned softly around him as he pushed further in, thrusting deeper, each movement more forceful than the last, clearly hitting the back of her throat.
Her breath hitched.
Strands of her hair fell messily across her face, sticking to her skin as she struggled to keep pace, her movements growing more desperate under his control.
He groaned under his breath, his head tilting back slightly as beads of sweat formed along his forehead.
Scott leaned back, flicking the ash from his cigarette, eyes distant as always.
Adrian smirked, elbowing Max.
"You really gonna sit there… not getting a bitch tonight? Not even one to give you a happy ending?" Adrian's voice cut through the noise, sharp, teasing, eyes glinting.
"You serious about that virgin stuff, huh?"
Scott scoffed, slow, deliberate. Calm. Unreadable.
Max leaned forward, a low laugh rumbling from his chest. He didn't even try to hide it. He was enjoying this—enjoying the sight of Scott, untouchable, silent, and suddenly the center of their mockery.
"Yeah, predator," Max muttered, voice low and mocking, a chuckle rolling off his tongue.
"You've been sitting here all night like a statue, just watching. No bitch riding and sucking that monster between your legs. Don't tell me your lips are still virgin too."
The girl in front of him continued, hands working expertly, sweat glistening along his skin as she massaged and sucked.
Scott's hand stopped flicking his lighter, he shifted his gaze slowly toward them, smoke curled from his nostrils as he exhaled.
"That's none of your business, and as for a happy ending… I'll get it tonight," Scott said, drawing a long, deliberate drag from his cigarette and flicking his lighter.
His smirk deepened, sharp and unreadable.
Max and Adrian exchanged a glance. A slow, knowing smile spread across their faces.
"You planning on getting down with Holy Mary tonight?" Max chuckled, his voice dripping with mockery.
"You'd be shocked. She looks a lot like your little stepmom—but she's definitely not her. Wait until you see that flawless, sexy body. I doubt you'd hesitate for even a second before breaking that virginity of yours."
Adrian laughed and joined in, the sound sharp, teasing, almost predatory.
Scott scoffed.
He pulled out his phone and searched for Holy Mary.
Her photos on stage appeared instantly, vibrant and commanding. His smirk deepened as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke, eyes cold and calculating, untouchable, entirely in control of the moment.
Max leaned back, grinning, clearly expecting Scott to react. "Well? What do you think? Gonna lose your virgin tonight, predator?"
Scott's eyes flicked up from his phone, sharp and cold.
"She looks like our dear stepmom, doesn't she? Wait until you see her in person—you'd probably throw all your money at her," Adrian said, a sly grin tugging at his lips.
"But tonight? Tonight she belongs to me. I'll be buying her. Though… I might do you both a favor and let you join in for a foursome."
Scott brushed his hair back, eyes locked on the pictures, swiping deliberately as he studied her.
Indeed, she had the same slender figure as his little stepmom—but it couldn't possibly be her. What would she be doing here? Dancing naked in a place like this… that definitely wasn't her.
Scott zoomed in on her neck, his eyes sharp, calculating.
He took a long drag from his cigarette, holding it for a moment before exhaling slowly, the smoke curling around him like a shadow.
He flicked his lighter once, deliberately, the small spark glinting in his eyes. His smirk deepened—darker, colder, more dangerous.
In a dark corner, piercing eyes were fixed intently on Max, unwavering, sharp, and full of silent calculation.
"Tell me more about this Holy Mary, dickheads," Scott muttered, exhaling a thick stream of smoke.
Max and Adrian chuckled, the sound sharp and brash, echoing through the tense air.
"Nothing much to know about her, predator," Max said, laughing. "She looks like your stepmom, and she's a legend on stage—she'd make even a virgin like you release in their pants."
Adrian joined in, his laughter sharp and brash.
"She started working here three years ago. First woman in the history of this club to get fucked by seven guys at once," he added, chuckling.
Scott remained silent, his gaze fixed and unreadable.
The smoke from his cigarette curled around him like a shadow, his smirk barely twitching, dark and dangerous.
"Cute story…" he murmured, his expression unreadable, cold as stone. He flicked his lighter open and shut, again and again, eyes fixed unwaveringly on her pictures.
*
*
---
"Ladies and gentlemen of Chicago, welcome to this month's auction! As always, you know the drill—tonight, the stage is set, and our hottest lady in town will go home with the highest bidder. Make some noise for… Holy Mary!" Catalina's voice rang out across the stage.
Dressed to kill, her makeup flawlessly concealed every bruise, and she beamed at the crowd with a sharp, dazzling smile.
Her short green gown bore a star design on the chest, and her black heels clicked against the stage as she gripped the microphone and swept her arms toward the towering curtains.
The audience erupted in applause as the curtains drew back, unveiling Holy Mary in her signature black veil and revealing black bikini, adorned with multiple chains draped around her waist and legs.
Each step she took made the chains jingle, a metallic, hypnotic rhythm that echoed through the hall like a dark, captivating spell.
Scott could hardly believe his eyes—she truly did resemble his little stepmom.
He lifted his glass of wine and took a measured sip, his gaze trailing from her legs to her waist, then to her face, finally settling on the tattoo of her nickname on her thigh.
"Already feeling the effect, huh?" Max chuckled, elbowing him. Scott scoffed, and Adrian joined in, sharing Max's amused laughter.
"Yeah, predator, you're usually not one to just watch. What's got you frozen? Or are you seriously telling us this virgin act is real?" Adrian's laugh cut through the din of the crowd.
Scott's lips curved into a slow, deliberate smirk, calm and unreadable.
He set his glass down, eyes still locked on Holy Mary, unbothered by their taunts.
"Like I said, the only legend capable of making a virgin lose it is nobody but that hottest girl right there," Max chuckled, bumping fists with Adrian. They both laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the room.
"She's attractive, but she's never been my type. And no—I haven't lost it yet, haven't released on my fucking pants. Like I said, I'll get my happy ending tonight, but it definitely won't be with her. So you two might as well shut the hell up and watch the boring show," Scott said, shooting them a glare that only made them laugh harder.
"Of course you haven't— cause it's not the right fucking time," Max replied, a sly grin tugging at his lips.
"None of these men have. But when the monsters rise, when the real show begins that's when you'll see why she will forever be the most irresistible seductress in the state."
Scott remained silent, his expression unreadable, his gaze sharp and unwavering.
Meanwhile, in Jericho's room, he sat on the couch, eyes fixed on the auction playing on the large television before him.
Cigarette smoke curled around him, burnt stubs littering the table alongside his lighter, his expression completely unreadable.
His shirt hung open, and behind him, two naked bitches attended to him, massaging his shoulders. His earrings caught the light, glittering with every subtle movement, while his smirk darkened, sharp and unreadable, as he watched.
His phone rang and picked it up placing it on his ear as he exhaled the smokes through his nostrils.
"Start her at twenty million. The men out there have more than that in their briefcases, and on all that money, she'll walk away with ten percent—don't forget that," Jericho muttered, his authoritative voice sending chills down everyone's spine.
"Yes, boss. I'll do exactly that," the man at the end replied. Jericho ended the call and leaned back, eyes still glued to the screen, a slow, satisfied smirk twisting across his lips.
"Keep hiding your face from the world… and keep making me rich, Holy Mary," he muttered, his smirk deepening as he drew a long, deliberate drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly through his nostrils.
_____
As she danced on the pole, the beads and chains around her waist jingled in rhythm with the slow, sultry music that seemed to thicken the air with desire.
Her every movement, the subtle arch of her tiny waist, was otherworldly.
The men in the room watched, enthralled, some unable to contain themselves, grabbing their manhoods, sweat dotting their foreheads.
Scott just watched, captivated—she was, without a doubt, the sexiest woman he had ever seen.
His smirk darkened as he exhaled smoke through his nostrils, flicking his lighter absentmindedly, his eyes never leaving her.
"So here you all are," Stacy snapped, her glare deadly. "Not one of you bothered to message me back—ruthless motherfuckers."
Adrian and Max just scoffed, while Bianca stood firmly at her side.
"And you, Adrian," Bianca added, her voice sharp, "I called, and you cut me off. Seriously? None of you thought to text us back, knowing exactly why we were looking for you guys." She smacked both Adrian and Max on the heads for emphasis.
"Thought you two were busy having a threesome with some guys," Adrian muttered, brushing his hair back.
"That's why we didn't bother picking up the calls or texting back. Don't expect me to listen to those boring moans of yours." Max laughed, echoing his arrogance.
Bianca's eyes flicked toward Scott, but he didn't even notice them, his mind was elsewhere, completely absorbed by the stage.
She shifted her gaze to Holy Mary, watching as she moved, hips swaying with deliberate slowness, fists clenched tightly, every motion charged with a tension that made the room pulse.
"We all came to this club together, remember? And now that the real reason we're here tonight has arrived, do you think we'll let ourselves get separated?" Stacy's eyes rolled as she spoke.
"I should be right here , pushing you to drive the price higher. We have to buy that bitch tonight—I'm ready to add whatever it takes." She glanced at Scott, who was already lost in a world of desire, completely absorbed by the stage.
"And Predator is definitely going to help us make Adrian the highest bidder, right, Scott?" Stacy asked, stepping up to him and draping her arms around his neck, her eyes tracing the sharp lines of his profile.
Bianca sank slowly into a chair, her gaze locked on Scott, lips caught between her teeth in a quiet, simmering intensity.
"Let me tell you both a secret—Predator is a goddamn virgin," Adrian said with a laugh. "He told us he's never fucked or even kissed a girl. That dude's taking his virginity straight to hell."
Max joined in with a loud laugh.
"What the fucking hell?!" Stacy and Bianca exclaimed, eyes wide with shock.
Adrian and Max erupted in even louder laughter, while Scott fixed them with a maddening glare. Stacy unwrapped her arms from around his neck, disbelief etched across her face.
"Wait—that's a fucking lie! Predator, don't tell me you've never had a girl ride your fucking dick or kiss your damn lips. You've never even had a blowjob?" Stacy's eyes went wide in disbelief, while Adrian and Max doubled over with laughter.
"You've really never had a happy ending, huh?" Bianca asked, her voice soft but sharp, hoping at least for a glance from him. But Scott remained unmoved.
"And what would it change if I got my dick sucked? What would it add to my life?" he said coolly.
Stacy's eyes widened in disbelief, and without a second thought, she smacked him on the head.
Adrian and Max burst into loud, raucous laughter. Bianca swallowed hard, gripping her clothes tightly, her chest tightening as she fought back the tears threatening to spill.
"You're getting your dick sucked tonight, and tomorrow you'll tell us exactly how it feels, dickhead," Stacy muttered.
She strode over to her best friend, sat down gracefully, crossed her legs, and swept her hair back in one fluid motion, radiating sharp confidence.
"The lioness has spoken—you're getting your dick sucked tonight. Better get yourself ready for a proper happy ending," Max said with a sly wink.
Scott ignored them completely, exhaling smoke through his nostrils before returning his gaze to the stage.
Adrian chuckled softly, and the others followed his lead, their attention snapping back to the performance.
Bianca's eyes, however, never left Scott, fixed and unwavering.
"And the bids will start at twenty million," Catalina announced, stepping forward. Her gaze flickered briefly to Holy Mary before sweeping back to the crowd.
"What the hell… twenty million?" Max's eyes widened in disbelief. He exchanged a stunned look with Adrian.
Stacy's jaw dropped—bids usually started at five hundred thousand. Twenty million? What on earth was that bulldog planning?
Scott's lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk. Holy Mary on the pole froze, her eyes wide, stunned by the sheer magnitude of the sum. Who in the world could possibly pay twenty million for a single night?
Murmurs rippled through the party room, the music pulsing as even Holy Mary froze mid-dance, unable to believe what she was hearing.
"Bulldog is a fucking bastard!" Stacy shouted, brushing her hair back in frustration.
She had planned to buy her tonight—but the bids were starting at twenty million. Twenty million for a single night? Who the hell could possibly pay that? What could make her pussy worth that much?
On the stage, Catalina looked overwhelmed, unsure where to begin to calm the rising uproar.
"How can anyone buy a girl for twenty million? Who the hell owns this club?!" one of the men shouted. Others immediately joined in, their voices rising in a chorus of disbelief and outrage.
"Twenty million for one night? Are you fucking kidding me?!" another man shouted, shaking his head.
"Who the hell would pay that? Is this some kind of joke?!" someone else yelled, their voice echoing across the room.
"Is Bulldog out of his fucking mind?!" a third demanded, fists slamming on the table.
The murmurs swelled into a roar, the crowd now buzzing with outrage, disbelief, and tension. Even Catalina on the stage looked paralyzed, trying desperately to regain control as the energy in the room spiraled.
"And what the hell makes her so special? Does she have some magic touch or something that we don't know about?!" another shouted, leaning forward, practically spitting with fury.
"Seriously, coming tonight was a total waste. All my plans to take her down are completely ruined—I don't even have ten million in my account. This is fucking bullshit! Who the hell buys a girl for twenty million a night? Does she have a golden pussy or something?" Adrian shouted, throwing his hands in frustration.
Max chuckled beside him, clearly amused by his friend's meltdown.
Scott rose from his seat, and the others exchanged puzzled glances, silently asking each other where the hell he was going.
Their eyes followed him as he began walking toward the stage, every step measured, his gaze locked on Holy Mary as she darted through the crowd beneath her veil.
"What the fuck is he doing?" Adrian muttered, curiosity and confusion etched across his face. The others remained silent, their eyes glued to Scott as he stepped onto the stage.
He approached Catalina and reached for the microphone, his hand brushing hers briefly. She swallowed hard and instinctively stepped back, her heartbeat racing in fear of the chaos unfolding before her.
Holy Mary's eyes landed on him, widening beneath the veil. She stepped back, her legs trembling for a brief moment.
"None of you really want to buy her tonight, huh?" Scott's voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding. Silence fell, heavy and tense.
"Don't fucking tell me he's planning to buy her?" Bianca whispered, eyes wide, exchanging frantic, disbelieving glances with the others.
The crowd erupted almost instantly.
"Hell no!" a man shouted, banging his fist against the table.
"What the fuck do you mean, none of us want to buy her?!" a man shouted, his voice cracking with rage.
"Are you serious right now, standing up here like you own this fucking place? You think we all just sit around with our wallets open for whatever that comes? Who in their right mind would pay twenty million for a slutty bitch, huh? Twenty fucking million! That's insane!
"Do you even hear yourself? Do you know what kind of money that is? People work their whole lives and don't see numbers like that! And you—what, you're just gonna throw it down like it's nothing? That's fucked up!" Another man shouted.
Catalina clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms.
Scott's lips curved into a dark, knowing smirk. He moved behind Holy Mary, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. Her eyes widened in shock, while Max and Adrian stared, mouths agape.
Bianca and Stacy sprang to their feet, eyes wide in disbelief.
Scott held the microphone firmly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd with calculated precision, every eye in the room now on him.
"I'm buying her tonight. She's worth every penny I've earned so far. I'll pay a hundred million—and that money goes straight into her account. She's mine for tonight," Scott announced, his voice slicing through the room.
Holy Mary's eyes widened beneath the veil, her heart hammering wildly in her chest.
The crowd erupted in disbelief, shouting and murmuring in chaos. Catalina staggered back, her eyes wide with shock.
"Scott…" Holy Mary whispered, voice trembling.
A dark, knowing smirk curved Scott's lips as he leaned close, his words brushing against her ear.
"You're going to explain to me why you let your pussy get fucked by seven dickheads, little stepmom,"
TBC
DO NOT GHOST 🚫
YOUR ACTIVENESS DETERMINES