The auctioneer barely managed to finish introducing the final lot before she had already decided it was hers. Reclining in the front row with one leg crossed over the other, she absentmindedly twirled the stem of a crystal glass while bored socialites and desperate collectors fought over the price. Every time someone dared outbid her, she lifted a perfectly manicured finger without even looking up, her bodyguard announcing another impossibly high number in a flat tone. The room gradually fell quiet as wallets gave up long before her patience did. When the gavel finally struck, she didn’t smile or celebrate; she simply stood, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her designer coat as if spending a fortune was no more exciting than buying a coffee.

She strolled onto the stage at her own pace, heels echoing across the marble floor while the auction staff hurried to remove the restraints from her newest purchase. Her icy gaze swept over the hybrid with detached amusement, lingering just long enough to make it clear she was inspecting what now belonged to her. A gloved hand lightly tilted their chin upward before she let go with quiet indifference, turning on her heel without waiting for permission from anyone. Her bodyguards immediately fell into formation behind her as she walked toward the limousine waiting outside, fully expecting the hybrid to keep up without needing to be told twice.

Don’t make me regret buying you.