Chapter 18
Emily Windsor's POV
My challenge seemed to amuse Luke. A faint, teasing smile curved his lips, but he said nothing more.
The car cut through the night, eventually pulling into a heavily guarded private estate.
This place was even more secretive than the Astor Estate. Beyond the towering iron gates lay surveillance cameras at every turn and prowling security guards—an atmosphere that screamed keep out.
Before I stepped out, Luke handed me a velvet box.
"Put it on." His tone left no room for argument.
I opened it. Inside lay a necklace strung with countless tiny diamonds, a teardrop-shaped sapphire pendant dangling at its center. Even in the dim interior light, it refracted a mesmerizing, haunting blue glow.
"I don't need this." I snapped the box shut and tried to push it back toward him.
He caught my hand, opened the box again, and lifted the necklace himself. The cool diamonds brushed against my skin, sending a faint shiver down my spine.
Leaning in, his warm fingers traced the nape of my neck as he fastened the clasp.
"Tonight, you're my date," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, his voice low and commanding. "So you'll look the part."
I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. The sapphire rested quietly against my collarbone, making my skin appear even paler.
It was a beautiful brand, silently declaring who I belonged to.
The auction was held in the estate's main building. It wasn't the chaotic scene I'd imagined—more like an exclusive, high-end appraisal gathering.
Fewer than fifty guests were present, each impeccably dressed and exuding refined elegance. They took their seats quietly as attendants guided them in.
Luke's arrival caused a subtle stir. People nodded respectfully in his direction, but their gazes inevitably drifted to me, assessing and probing.
I held Luke's arm, my expression calm as I sat beside him.
He flipped open an exquisitely designed catalog, his long fingers tapping a particular page.
A pigeon-blood ruby named Burning Heart. The photograph was stunning—its flame-like hue seemed to burn right off the paper.
"Do you like it?" He turned his head, his voice low.
My heartbeat quickened for no reason. In a place reeking of power and money, his question felt oddly intimate—like something a lover might ask. I swallowed the strange flutter in my chest and replied evenly, "I'm not interested in rocks."
"Is that so?" Luke smiled faintly, unconvinced. A determined gleam flickered in those ice-blue eyes. "Well, I'm very interested."
The auction began shortly after. From antique paintings to rare treasures, every item was worth a fortune. The atmosphere remained calm. Guests bid silently through electronic devices—no dramatic shouting, just numbers scrolling across screens, each increment representing an astronomical sum.
Luke didn't make a single bid. He lounged lazily against his chair, unbothered.
Until Burning Heart appeared.
Only then did he pick up his device and casually enter a number.
A ripple of whispers spread through the room. People exchanged glances.
An attendant respectfully brought the ruby to us. Luke didn't even spare it a second glance before sliding the box toward me. "It's yours now."
I stared at the glowing gem, feeling like it would burn through my fingers. "This is too much."
Luke didn't bat an eye. "I gave it to you. Keep it."
The eyes around us made my skin crawl. Trapped, I had no choice but to accept.
Just when I thought the auction was winding down, the auctioneer's voice took on a mysterious, almost fervent tone. "And now, for tonight's most anticipated item."
The lights dimmed. A spotlight illuminated center stage.
A massive golden birdcage was wheeled forward. Inside, curled up in a trembling ball, was a girl.
She looked no older than fifteen or sixteen. She wore a tattered white tulle dress, her golden hair matted against her face. Her exposed skin was covered in purplish bruises. She looked like a frightened fawn, arms wrapped around her knees, her hollow blue eyes filled with terror and despair.
My blood turned to ice. My breath stopped.
I'd imagined how filthy Luke's world could be. I'd seen corpses in a dockside warehouse. I'd read through bloody case files. But I never imagined I'd witness something like this.
"Starting bid, five million dollars."
The auctioneer's voice was like a poisoned blade, stabbing straight into my ears.
A violent wave of nausea surged through me. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, barely holding myself together.
The well-dressed men in the room now wore expressions of greed and excitement. They gazed at the girl in the cage like she was a rare piece of art. Numbers on the screens began to skyrocket.
I couldn't watch anymore. I whipped my head toward Luke.
He still leaned back in his chair, posture unchanged, not a single ripple crossing his face.
In that instant, every complicated feeling I'd had in that sunlit Brooklyn apartment—the pity, the sympathy stirred by an old photograph—shattered into dust.
Luke wasn't someone struggling in the mire.
He was the mire.
"Luke." My voice sounded strange—cold, hoarse, trembling.
Finally, he shifted his gaze from the stage and looked at me. Those ice-blue eyes remained deep and unfathomable, but now they felt bone-chillingly cold.
"What is it?" he asked, his tone unnervingly calm.
"This is what you meant by your world?" I forced each word through clenched teeth.
Luke studied me, silent. Then he lifted his hand, his thumb brushing lightly across the corner of my mouth, as if soothing a startled pet. The gesture was gentle. His gaze was cruel.
"Emily," he finally said, his voice low and clear, cutting through the noise of the room and landing precisely in my ears. "I didn't bring you here to judge right from wrong."
He leaned in slightly, his overwhelming presence pressing down on me. Those cold eyes glinted with something dark.
"I just wanted you to remember," he murmured, his voice meant only for me, "in this world, weakness is the only real sin."