“When my sister died, Linnea, I felt a hundred times more than this. So keep your eyes open. Don’t you dare look away.”
Her lashes lifted, and tears blurred her vision.
The first lot: her mother’s treasured piano. The same one her mother had cradled her beside, guiding her small hands across the keys to play songs written just for her.
The second: her parents’ engagement ring.
The third: the diamond crown her father had commissioned for her eighteenth birthday.
Bids rose sharply. “One million!” “Two million!”
Her chest constricted. “Soren,” she choked, tasting blood, “you can do whatever you want to me—but not to them. Please… give me back my parents’ things. I beg you.”
She pounded his arm with shaking fists. “I was wrong, I admit it. Please, I’m begging you…”
For an instant, his eyes flickered with something almost human. He almost reached to wipe her tears—almost whispered, Linnea, don’t be afraid. I’m here.
Then the moment died. Hatred smothered it.
“It’s easy to get them back,” he murmured. “Several of my partners are here tonight. Appease them, and your parents’ belongings are yours.”
Her grip on his sleeve loosened. “You… want me to sleep with them?”