Sold for $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers

The laughter in the room slowly fades, but the sound of the auctioneer's gavel still echoes in my ears.

Sold.

My hands curl into fists at my sides as the reality settles over me like a suffocating weight. One dollar. That's what my life is worth.

I glare at my stepfather, but he's slumped over his chair. His glass is empty. 

Typical. I should've known he was going to get drunk. The only time I ever saw him sober was during his anniversary with my mom. 

And even then, he couldn't be a good husband for one day. 

The sound of movement at the back of the room draws my attention. I flinch inwardly as the three men rise from their table.

The shift in the room is immediate. Everyone turns, watching the Hawthorne brothers walk toward the stage.

They move slowly and unhurried, like men who know the entire room belongs to them.

Adrian Hawthorne leads the way.

Up close, he's even more intimidating than I expected. He's taller than the other two, broad-shouldered, dressed in a perfectly tailored blue suit with one hand tucked into his pocket. His dark eyes settle on my face, before slowly roaming over my body.

I stifle the urge to shrink into thin air. 

Julian follows a step behind him, his expression far more relaxed and his arms loosely folded across his chest. There's a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looks at me over, like he's enjoying the situation far more than he should.

Lucien walks beside Adrian, his hands behind his back. His expression is unreadable, but it doesn't stop the goosebumps that rise on my arms. The three of them stop at the foot of the stage. For a moment, no one speaks.

Then Adrian looks up at me and says calmly, "Come down."

My chest tightens and my feet feel glued to the floor. I don't move. I can't move. 

These men ruined my family. They stole my mom's company, bought it for next to nothing from my step-father. 

His gaze sharpens slightly. "I won't repeat myself."

Perhaps we should carry her down, brother," Lucien drawls. "She looks like she might crumble anytime soon."

His eyes roam over my body unhurriedly, lingering on my chest. He clicks his tongue. "Do you make your fashion choices yourself?"

A lump rises in my throat. I know how I look-with my cheap tee shirt and faded jeans. 

Between working two jobs to put myself through college and bailing my stepfather out of trouble, there's barely enough money left to get new clothes. 

Or eat good food, either. 

"I can walk," I snap, stepping towards the edge of the stage. 

Adrian lifts an eyebrow, studying me for a moment. "Good." 

I feel his eyes on me-their eyes-as I take the marble steps one at a time. Julian walks up to me, holding out his palm.  He tilts his head towards it. 

"I'm fine," I say, harsher than intended. As the words leave my mouth, I remember. I belong to them now. They can treat me anyway and nobody'll say a thing. "I'm sorry," I apologize immediately, lowering my gaze. 

He laughs. The sound is a soft, lazy rumble. "I was merely offering. You had every right to refuse."

I glimpse Adrian from the corner of my eye. His eyes are narrowed as he stares at someone in the middle of the crowd, his mouth pulled into a hard line.

If looks could burn, my stepfather would already be ash.

Julian follows my gaze and chuckles under his breath. "My brother finds it hard to let go when he's been wronged."

He leans closer. "What about you?"

I blink at him. "What?"

He studies me for a moment, then shakes his head lightly.

"Nothing."

He straightens and holds out his hand. "We should go."

I hesitate, staring at his outstretched palm. The only thing I know about the Hawthorne brothers is what my stepfather used to rant about whenever I found him slumped at the end of a bottle.

Ruthless. Evil. Monsters. He said they had more money than they knew what to do with it. And egos too big for their own good. 

"Ah." Julian clears his throat and lowers his hand. "Okay, then." He gestures toward the exit. "You can keep up, though, can't you?"

I follow him through the crowd of onlookers and out of the underground hall. The sudden night air hits me like ice, sending a shiver through my body as I wrap my arms around myself. 

"Here."

Something warm settles over my shoulders, chasing the chill away. I turn. Lucien stands behind me, already stepping away after draping his coat around me. He gives me a short nod before walking toward the row of sleek black cars waiting along the curb.

Julian watches him go and smirks. "He's the gentleman of the family," he says. Then he places a hand dramatically against his chest. "But I apologize. I should've been the one to rescue you from the cold."

I say nothing.

His gaze shifts past me, and his expression changes slightly. "Looks like that's my cue to leave." 

He steps back toward the second car. "Lucien and I came together tonight."

His eyes flick toward the tall figure standing beside the other vehicle. My eyes widen and my breath catches. How did he get there? "Which means you'll be riding home with my brother."

Adrian.

"See ya!" Julian waves me off, skipping over to the car Lucien slipped into moments ago. 

I remain rooted to the spot, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. The jacket on my shoulders suddenly feels far too light.

Adrian makes no move to come closer. Instead, he folds his arms across his chest. Even standing in the shadows, I can feel his eyes on me.