(The Highest Bidder)

Maria's Point of View

“You work in a club, not some random cathedral,” said my mom as she struggled to lift the corners of her face into a smile.

As much as I could tell, decency wasn't appreciated during my service as a bartender. She had always wanted me to wear seductive outfits to the club; that way, men would lust over my flesh and buy more drinks.

I didn't understand the logic in it—maybe I never would—but it always seemed to work.

“But… Mother,” I stammered, trying to oppose her.

“For fuck’s sake, Maria, don't make this harder for both of us. You dress the way I want or sit at home!” she yelled as she left no room for argument.

Realizing that it was a dead zone talking to her, I quickly swallowed the lump forming in my throat and walked into my room.

I took a deep breath, undressed myself, and slipped into a short gown that revealed my thighs and cleavage—just what they wanted to see. Moreover, my opinion never mattered. They never will.

The ride to the club was a long one, my eyes fixed on the road as the buildings passed by in a blur. My mind was stuck in a chaotic mess.

When will she get rid of this hardened hatred for me? While everyone else is bathed in their mother’s love, I'm a constant reminder that I was nothing but a mistake—a mistake she would have prevented if she could.

The taxi pulled up at the bar. I straightened my sleeves, goosebumps crawling across my skin as I walked into the club. It was dimly lit, the rays of the chandelier brushing against my skin.

The air was thick with stale beer, the heavy scent of whiskey and tequila resting in my nostrils, making my stomach churn.

“Smile, Maria. Don't scare away my clients with that face of yours,” my mother hissed through clenched teeth.

A warm smile crawled across my lips as I served the patrons. Soon, their warm laughter filled the air. I sat behind the counter, mixing the cocktails.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. The Dons of the city strode into the building, oozing confidence. They were dressed in black. Today was going to be different from other days. There was an auction today, and only a selected few knew about it.

Soft jazz played in the background as some ladies marched forward with bold smiles on their faces. They wore pink bikinis, the warm rays of chandeliers highlighting their sharp features.

They twisted their waists in synchrony with the music, slowly gyrating seductively to the beats.

“You can now begin,” Hugo, the club's manager, announced. “May the highest bidder go home with the best chick,” a satisfied smirk curling on her lips.

My face flushed with curiosity as I stared at my mom, who was checking out the Club’s stock book.

“Ten thousand dollars,” one of them said, rising from his seat as if a force had jerked him up.

“Fifteen thousand dollars!” another responded.

“Seventeen thousand, going once, going twice,” said Hugo as his eyes beckoned on the men to bid higher. The air was thick with tension.

“40 thousand dollars!” one of them yelled, raising his debit card high in the air.

“Are the Dons of New York City bankrupt?” teased Hugo. I could see a glint of desire in Mom's eyes as she stared at the men.

“You must be very impressed with Hugo,” I mumbled as I filled a glass of champagne for a lady.

“5 million!” a cold voice said from the other end of the room.

A smile tugged at the side of my lips. While others bid in thousands, he chose to pay five million dollars. I forced myself to retain a stoic expression, my gaze resting on him.

“5 million?” my mother asked rhetorically, her tone infused with excitement.

A low, mocking laughter erupted in the bar, some cursing the elderly man. Yet, he remained unfazed, his eyes narrowing a bit as he removed his cap and stood. He was six feet tall, with gray hair and a nice physique. If I guessed right, he was in his late sixties. Despite looking old, he exuded an air of authority mingled with confidence.

“You stupid?” another man said from the other end of the room, bursting into laughter.

The old man maintained his calm demeanor, digging his hand into his pocket and yanking out his debit card.

“Five million dollars for the blonde behind the counter,” he said, his voice sharp.

My lips folded into a thin line, confusion flickering across my face as I tried to make sense of his words. My heartbeat increased, their gazes slowly shifting to me.

It was obvious—he wasn’t just old; he was stupid.

“No, she's not part of the…..” said Hugo, trying to object

“Five million dollars?” my mother asked, her eyes widening in shock as she stared at Hugo, interrupting him mid-sentence.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, sweat trickling down my forehead. I felt my body crumble under the intensity of their gazes.

“You’ve… got to be mistaken, sir. I—” Before I could whisper another word, my mother's shrill voice sliced through the air, devoid of any warmth.

SOLD!

My breathing hitched immediately; my eyes widened in disbelief. How could she just give me up without my consent? I wasn’t even a stripper.

The people applauded, the clapping of their hands muffled. “This is not happening,” I mumbled as all I could hear was the loud beating of my heart.

My mother walked out of the club, and I stormed out from behind the counter, ready to give her a piece of my mind. There was no way she was going to make me dance for a random man when I didn't sign up for stripping.

I walked into the hallway, my anger bubbling to the surface. She leaned against the wall, counting the wad of cash she held. Yes, cash—that was all she cared about.

“What the hell was that, Mum?”

“Did you give me up to an old man?”

Is that how much you want to get rid of me?” I asked, my voice cracking. I felt a sharp sting in my eyes; my gaze focused on the woman who was meant to be my mother.

Her lips pursed, her eyes narrowing as they bored into my skin.

“Look, Maria, I’m quite busy,” she said coldly, averting her gaze to the cash.

Tears rolled down my chin, my body trembling. When was I going to be important to her?

Mom, answer me!! I yelled at her for the very first time.

Staring deep into my soul, she looked at me and replied without any sense of remorse in her voice.

“If stripping is going to make me more cash, then YOU strip,” she said, her voice edged with anger. She couldn’t stand me staring at her.

“Mother?”

“I’m done having this conversation with you, Maria. You have two options: strip or get the hell out of my life!” she barked, her tone leaving no room for argument.

My vision blurred, and a chill ran down my spine. My palms were clammy, and my thoughts were running wild. I'd heard horrible things about what strippers go through at the hands of their masters, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to accept it as my fate.

Well, if stripping was going to prove my love for my mother, then I was willing to do it. Maybe after I stripped, she’d learn to love me like her daughter.

After I was done with the day's sales, I was told to go meet up with my new nightmare at Club Encore's private room. My heels ached, exhaustion weighing me down as I walked into the room. Heck, I didn't even know his name.

The door slammed shut behind me, making me flinch a bit. He stood in the middle of the room, his back facing me. I felt fear creep down my spine as he whirled around slowly, his blue eyes lustfully devouring my flesh—as if he owned me.

Just then, he said the word I dreaded the most:

Strip!