[Hannah POV ...]
Roman was staring at and I didn’t know what else to say to him. His eyes were a sharp, pale blue. He wore a checkered button-down with khaki slacks, and he had a single diamond stud in his right earlobe. It was more than likely a real diamond.
Roman was clean-cut and handso. I hadn’t really taken the ti to truly look at him before because I was doing my best to ignore him.
I glanced down at the contract on the seat between and Roman, curious about exactly what the terms of our arrangent were. "Can I read the contract?" I asked him, pointing at the docunt.
"Of course," Roman said, handing the contract and switching on the overhead reading light. The contract began with a statent that he, Preston Roman Harcourt Thaddeus the third, did freely and without coercion enter into the contract with The Auction House on this day. His purchase of , Hannah Macalester, was made for one hundred million dollars, payable to The Auction House and its owner, Jared Fitzgerald.
"Pretty straightforward," I said aloud. I had been expecting so shady wording, but so far everything seed legitimate. The next section of the contract was titled "Loyalty to The Auction House and All Entities Therein." It began with a legal notice that the contract holder would not disclose any information regarding The Auction House, its owner, employees, and other personnel. I assud the other person was the auctioned woman. Beneath that statent were subsections outlining the consequences of disclosure.
My eyes widened and I glanced up at Roman to find him watching intently.
"I honestly can’t believe anyone would sign this," I said to him.
"I had to if I wanted to get you out of there," Roman said to .
I frowned. "It says that if you disclose anything about The Auction House to anyone without need-to-know, especially the authorities, then you agree to forfeit the safety of yourself, your family, and your friends," I told him, waiting for his response to such a heinous contract.
Roman shrugged. I stared at him for a mont, waiting for him to speak, but he only returned my stare.
I returned my attention to the contract and read aloud, "If you, the undersigned, take any information to the authorities regarding The Auction House and the entities herein, you are subject to any or all of the following: loss of material assets to include money and property, Loss of reputation, broken bones, stabbing, gunshot wounds, concussion, kidnapping, death, etc." I gazed up at Roman and shook the contract. "You can’t go to the FBI, Roman. Did you even read this contract?"
He shrugged again. What was his problem?
"I wouldn’t have signed this contract, especially not for a woman I didn’t know," I said.
Roman was resting his elbow on the door, rubbing his chin, staring off into the distance as if he were deep in thought. Was he reconsidering what he had done by bidding for ? I didn’t know if he had actually read the contract before signing, but it was too late now. I left him to his thoughts and continued reading to myself.
The next section covered specifically.
My na had been typed into the spot labeled "personnel for auction." It listed my na, date of birth, residence, and the na of the person relinquishing to The Auction House. My father’s na had been typed into that section. B*stard, I thought before I continued reading. There was a clause about being a verified virgin. My neck and cheeks went hot as I continued to read. My dical certificate was attached and signed by my doctor stating that, upon examination, it was confird that I had never "been penetrated due to intercourse."
I put the contract down in my lap as my cheeks grew hotter, and I stared out the window for a mont to try and ease the blushing.
"Is sothing wrong?" Roman asked . I didn’t face him because I didn’t want him to see blushing.
"Everything in this contract is wrong," I said.
He didn’t push the issue. I was sure he was battling with his own thoughts. We drove past stone walls and elaborate gates that enclosed large, beautiful mansions. I thought about the previous couple of days, specifically when my father had asked to accompany him on so errands.
One of those errands was taking to see my gynecologist. My father never ntioned why he took , and the doctor didn’t ask if I was having any problems. Now I knew the real reason for the impromptu visit.
I took a deep breath and returned to the contract to continue reading. The next section was labeled "Marriage." As a virgin, the contract stated that I was expected to beco a bride. It stated that a marriage between the undersigned, Roman, and the auctioned personnel, , was to take place within three months of purchase. An additional month was permissible to ensure fertility before marriage if an heir was desired by the undersigned.
I glanced over at Roman who was staring out of his window now. I couldn’t tell if he was tired or if he was still lost in his thoughts. He was certainly attractive, with his sandy brown hair in a crew cut that further added to his neat appearance. The curve of his jawline was angled toward and I followed the curve down the smooth line of his strong neck.
I returned my distracting thoughts to the contract. The next section stated that if a marriage did not occur within three months of purchase or within four months once a pregnancy was confird, then ownership of the auctioned personnel automatically reverted to The Auction House, its owner, and the entities therein. It was expected that I get married to Roman, since I was a virgin, but if not, I would be sent back to The Auction House, or likely forcibly returned.
Roman had stated that he only bought to get to safety and eventually return to my family, but according to this contract, I was the property of The Auction House now. I couldn’t go back ho, not with my treacherous father around.
"You didn’t actually read this contract, did you, Roman?" I asked him.
He turned and t my gaze with his crystal blue eyes. "It didn’t seem that important at the ti," he admitted.
I pressed my lips together to stop myself from telling him that it was pretty damn important. "I was just ready to get out of that place and I was taking you with no matter what."
"I’m having trouble wrapping my head around that," I said to him.
" too," he answered. His eyes were still on . I didn’t know what else to say, so continue reading.
The contract stated that if the marriage did not occur, the auctioned personnel would be returned to The Auction House for ownership and a decision on status. If still a virgin, the returned personnel may be resold as a bride. If personnel is found to no longer be a virgin, then personnel may be resold as a mistress. In parentheses, the contract stated that a mistress was also known as a "sex slave."
"This is sickening," I said as my stomach whirled with nausea. "But, the good news," I said to Roman, "is that you can return if you don’t like my attitude or if I’m too outspoken."
Roman scoffed. "Are you trying to be funny?" he asked . I answered him with a shrug. He shook his head. "I wish there was sothing to laugh about," he added.
"What was the last thing you rember laughing about?" I asked him.
He thought for a mont before he smirked. "I have a couple of friends, Wade and Gabe, they’re twins. Before I ..." He stopped abruptly, and I tilted my head expectantly. " I was at a club earlier tonight with them and so other guys," he continued. "They were trying to pick up so chicks and they got a set of twins," he smirked.
I didn’t see what was funny about it. "I guess you just had to be there," I said. He was still smirking when I t his gaze and I wasn’t expecting how much more handso he was when he was smirking like that. I blinked at him, forgetting what I was about to say, if anything.
"I get it, not funny," he said. "What about you?"
"What about ?" I asked him, distracted by his sexy smirk.
"What’s the last thing you rember laughing about?" he asked, giving a curious look for so quickly forgetting what we were talking about.
I thought for a second. That second turned into a minute. Finally, I rembered a TV show I had been watching a few days ago.
"Have you seen that new TV show about the roommates in the haunted apartnt?" I
asked Roman.
He shook his head.
"Well, if I have to explain it then it won’t be funny," I said.
"Fair enough," he said. "We’re almost ho," he added.
I glanced out the window to see that we were on the outskirts of the suburbs. Even in the dark, I could see the lush, green manicured lawn behind the gilded fencing.
And then the mansion ca into view. It was massive, twice the size of my parent’s ho. The driver pulled up to the gate and it began to open, revealing a long driveway that took us off to the right of the mansion and into the ten-car garage.
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