Sold To The Billionaire Alpha
Chapter 3

He dragged me by my hair up the stairs. I tried to keep up with him to lessen the pain in my scalp. He threw me to the floor. I heard the door to the cellar shut. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the brightness. I was on a marble floor, smooth and cool to the touch. Above me was an elaborately painted ceiling as though I had been transported to the middle of the Italian Renaissance. It reminded me of pictures of the Sistine Chapel. The depictions were of richly attired men and women in various luxurious locations often accompanied by colossal wolves. I marvelled at the artwork. The walls boasted several similar paintings in expensive-looking frames. There were sculptures of wolves in the huge room. Floor length windows framed by heavy cream curtains allowed light to stream in. There was a winding staircase to my far right. I was in a mansion. It was such a complete departure from the horror and meagre surroundings in the cellar that it left me bewildered.

I almost forgot my assailant was behind me. He pulled me up by my arm. I felt his hand strike me across my face. I screamed, yanking myself out of his grip. I brought my hand to my bruised face. Now, there was a bruise and a scrape on that cheek. There were a few drops of b***d on my fingertips. The man raised his hand again but I was ready to fight back this time and make a run for it.

“STOP!” Bellowed a deep voice.

The man stopped. I found the source of the voice. I gasped. A tall, broad shouldered man stood at the foot of the staircase. He was well-dressed, the smell of expensive cologne emanating from him. He was outrageously handsome, like he had been plucked from a magazine or a fairytale or some romance novel. He regarded the grey-eyed man disdainfully with his baby blue eyes. His hair fell in dark blonde waves to his shoulders. He was lean but muscled. He strode over to us.

“What do you think you’re doing, Boris?” The rich man said.

“Mr Caro, I was just teaching this one a lesson! She did this!” Screamed Boris, the grey-eyed man, pointing to his eye-patch.

“No one will notice,” Mr Caro said smoothly, patting Boris on the shoulder.

Boris looked dumbfounded.

“This one is a special order. She’s not for the auction,” explained Mr Caro.

Boris muttered something unintelligible. Mr Caro’s expression darkened. He approached me. I scrambled backwards instinctively until my back hit the wall and I had nowhere to go. Mr Caro took my chin in his hand, tilting my face upwards. I avoided his eyes. He scrutinised my face.

“How’re we going to explain this bruise to our very important buyer?” Mr Caro said softly. His tone was innocent enough but something about him told me that he was the more dangerous of the two. Boris was silent.

“The Alpha will be furious,” Mr Caro whispered.

Boris looked a little worried. He mumbled something. Mr Caro sighed.

“Get her cleaned up!” Mr Caro ordered. “Make her as pretty as possible for the Alpha. He’s coming tonight to the Auction. She’s a private order. The most expensive piece of the night and you’ve damaged her!”

Boris sighed. “She damaged me,” I heard him retort.

Mr Caro snarled. It reminded me of the guard from earlier. I let out a breath I had not realised I had been holding. Mr Caro’s blue eyes looked much darker all of a sudden. Boris trembled.

“Ok, ok,” Boris agreed.

“Please,” I said softly to Mr Caro. “Don’t kill me.”

Mr Caro laughed. “Kill you? You’re not worth anything dead. The Alpha wants you very much alive and unharmed but we’ve already f****d that second part up, haven’t we?

I did not know if to feel relieved.

“Alpha? Like a wolf?” Was all I could say.

Mr Caro’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah, you’re the human one.” He got to his feet and left abruptly.

I gulped. I was alone with my biggest fan, Boris, and I was more confused than ever. Boris left me there on the floor, exiting the room. I scrambled to my feet. I ran to the large double doors by the winding staircase. They were locked. I banged on the glass windows, even throwing a wolf statue at one. Neither the glass nor the statue was even scratched. I remembered Rose was in the cellar. Should I try to free her now? Or escape and come back for her with the police? Maybe the two of us could overpower Boris. Before I could make a decision, Boris entered the room from the side door. He was flanked by two women.

“Look at her face!” Said the pretty blonde woman.

“He’ll be furious,” whispered the beautiful dark-haired woman.

Both women were gorgeous. They were, perhaps, in their forties. They reminded me of retired super-models. One had a dark chocolate complexion with almond shaped brown eyes , high cheekbones and full lips. Her curly hair was in a simple bun. The other woman had long, straight blonde hair and large blue eyes with a pouty mouth. They were both wearing red lipstick and sleek red cocktail dresses with wide-brimmed red hats. They had lacy black gloves on their hands and pointy-tipped black stilettos on their feet.

“Boss said fix her up as much as possible. The Alpha is coming for her tonight,” said Boris.

“That’s not enough time for that bruise to heel,” said the blonde woman. “Maybe, if she were a werewolf but this one is human.”

“I know that, Salvia! I’m human!” Boris said to the blonde.

Salvia pursed her lips. “Then you should’ve known better than to hit her,” she retorted.

“Never mind Boris, sister,” said the other woman. “Perhaps, we can delay the Alpha?”

“We can’t delay the Alpha, sister,” said Salvia, her blue eyes widening.

“He’ll be angrier if we make him wait and she would take days to heal, Sylvia,” Boris said to the other woman.

Sylvia, the dark-haired woman, frowned, forming a wrinkle in her perfect forehead. She sighed. Sylvia and Salvia approached me.

“Come, come, child, let’s get you ready,” cooed Sylvia as if I were her daughter and she was dressing me up for my sweet sixteen.

Sylvia reminded me a little of my mom with her mocha complexion. The blonde, blue-eyed Salvia resembled my father’s sister. My parents were just as different from each other as these two. I suddenly wondered if I would ever see them again. I followed the women up the winding staircase, rather than stay with Boris.