The King Of War Returns (Jaden Rift) novel Chapter 52

Hannah screamed as the guards dragged her into the dark chamber, her fists pounding against their backs to no avail.

“Let me go! Please—!” she shrieked.

“Stop being stubborn if you don’t wanna get hurt,” one of the men muttered coldly, hoisting her higher over his shoulder.

They stepped into a dimly lit, cavernous room. The air was thick with cigar smoke and the scent of expensive cologne. Armed guards stood like statues at every corner. Spotlights illuminated the grand stage at the center of the hall, fitted with a tall silver pole gleaming under the lights.

This was no ordinary room—it was the auction chamber.

They threw her down at the foot of the stage like a sack. Her wrists were yanked and tied tightly behind the pole, forcing her to stand upright. She struggled, eyes wild with terror, her red silk dress clinging to her trembling frame.

“Let me go!” she cried, the sound of her voice cracking.

One of the guards grinned wickedly. “Easy, little beauty. You’re about to make us millions tonight.”

A round of laughter erupted from the crowd.

Dozens of men were seated around the stage—every one of them a monster in expensive skin. Millionaires. Crime lords. Drug barons. Sons of military leaders. Eyes glinted with hunger. Some licked their lips. Others whispered to each other, pointing, grinning.

“Looks like we’ve got a plaything tonight,” a voice drawled from the shadows.

“She’s expensive, no doubt about it.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll break her in no time.”

Dark laughter echoed across the chamber.

Suddenly, a man in a sharp black suit stepped onto the stage, holding a microphone. The host. His grin was sleazy, confident. He raised one hand and the room fell quiet.

With a sly grin, he turned toward the crowd. “Gentlemen... tonight’s auction is something special. Very special. You’re not just bidding on any girl tonight.”

He turned toward Hannah, gesturing like a magician revealing a prize.

“This—” he announced, “—is Hannah Winston.”

Gasps filled the room.

Murmurs exploded in waves. Chairs creaked. Cigars paused in midair.

“No way…”

“Winston? That Winston?”

“Holy shit… it’s really her…”

The host’s smile widened. “Yes. The Hannah Winston. The pride of the Winston family. The beauty jewel of the city. The girl every heir, every mogul, every prince wanted—but none could have. Until tonight.”

Hannah's face turned pale as every eye locked onto her like wolves sighting prey.

“She was the poster girl of virtue,” the host continued. “Flawless skin. Golden reputation. A pure untouched virgin. Every young millionaire tried to woo her. Gifts, estates, supercars—you name it. But none of them even touched her shadow. Not even Derek from the all powerful Thornfell Family.”

He circled her slowly, like a predator pacing around its captured prize.

“Forty million and my villa in Tuscany!”

“Sixty million and my private jet.”

The room became a storm of outbidding madness.

“Seventy-five million and my crypto vault.”

“Eighty million and an oil field in Dubai.”

“Hundred million and my French chateau!”

The host laughed with delight. “That’s the spirit, gentlemen! Keep going. Remember—you’re not just buying a girl. You’re conquering the legend.”

A voice cut through the chaos.

“I offer one billion.”

Dead silence.

Heads turned sharply.

The crowd parted like a curtain, and a tall figure stepped forward under the light.

Andrew Blake.