The next girl walked onto the stage — and by now, the room had changed.At the beginning of the auction, every new appearance had drawn excitement, curiosity, greed. But now everyone was watching Room 227. Darren Zemo had noticed it too.The mysterious guest who had entered with a masked bodyguard had gone from an unknown buyer to the most dangerous person in the auction. Someone who didn't negotiate, didn't hesitate, didn't lose.The girl beneath the spotlight was another victim of the Black Circle — early twenties, long silver-blonde hair falling over her shoulders, pale skin that almost seemed to glow under the stage lights.She had a delicate beauty that would have attracted attention anywhere. But here she wasn't treated like a person. She was introduced like merchandise."Twenty-four years old," Darren announced calmly. "Former model. International background. Highly educated. A rare combination of beauty and intelligence."She stood silently, eyes empty, body still under the ef

The numbers kept rising.At first, Johnny had expected the others to give up after ten billion. Then eleven came.Then twelve, then thirteen, the voices from the private rooms continuing without hesitation —"Thirteen point two billion." "Thirteen point five." "Fourteen billion." Each new number echoed through the auction hall, each one proving the same thing. These people were not bluffing.They had money, a ridiculous amount of it, and they intended to use it.Johnny simply watched, a small smile on his face. A few minutes ago he had thought the auction would end the moment he dropped ten billion.Apparently he had underestimated the people hiding behind those glass walls. But that was fine — actually, it was better. The higher they pushed the price, the more obvious the solution became.Mia, however, was having a completely different reaction. She looked like she was watching reality collapse in front of her."Fourteen point five billion." Another bid. Her eyes widened. Fourteen po

Thirty billion.The glass was still scattered around Johnny's feet, but he barely noticed. His ears were ringing. The numbers on the auctioneer's lips didn't make sense.Thirty billion.Someone out there just bid thirty billion.For a moment, Johnny's brain went blank. Then he moved.He walked to the glass panel and pressed his palms flat against it, staring down at the auction floor. Margaret was still there. Still swaying. Still drugged and helpless and completely unaware that she was at the center of a war.Thirty billion.Behind him, Mia noticed the change immediately, and that was the first thing that scared her. Johnny had been calm the entire night.Even when the numbers reached ten billion, even when they passed twenty, even when everyone else looked shocked, he had looked like a man already holding the winning card. But now the confidence was gone — not completely, but enough.He looked like someone who had finally realized he was standing across from real opponentsHis eyes

The man slowly turned around, and for the first time in years something unfamiliar appeared on his face.Not fear — not yet. Just confusion. Someone had entered his private room, gotten close enough to press a weapon against him, and he hadn't noticed. That alone was impossible.His eyes moved around the room, searching for any sign of how this had happened. Then his expression shifted."Where is Raphael?" His voice was calm with a sharp edge hidden underneath. "Who the hell are you?""You should worry less about who I am," a cold voice answered from behind him, "and more about the situation you're in."Johnny stepped closer, gun still pressed against his back. "You have two choices. Listen — either you keep bidding, or these bullets find their way between your ribs.""Do you know how many people have pointed weapons at me?""No. But I know who wouldn’t hesitate to pull this trigger if you don’t start bidding this very second”The room went silent. The billionaire looked at Johnny's r

Darkness. That was the first thing Johnny felt — not pain, not fear. Just darkness.Slowly, pieces of memory returned. The auction. Margaret. The door. The electricity. The trap.His eyes opened slightly. A cold splash of water hit his face, and he inhaled sharply, body reacting before his mind fully caught up. His vision blurred, then slowly came into focus.The first thing he noticed was the cold metal around his wrists. Handcuffs — arms stretched above him, chained to a thick metal pipe on the ceiling, feet barely touching the ground, most of his body weight hanging from his shoulders. Not exactly the most comfortable position.He tested the restraints. Strong. Very strong."Well, well."Johnny lifted his head. Standing in front of him was Darren Zemo — the host of the Black Circle auction, the man who smiled while selling people's lives. But he looked different now. The cheerful auction host was gone, the fake politeness stripped away. This was the real Darren, a man who didn't ne