Prologue: "Out of the Frying Pan"

I consider myself to be a bright and reasonable woman, one that values logic above all else. I take pride in my ability to problem solve, always looking for a scientific explanation rather than a blind accusation. It was just simply how I was raised. You had a question? Go find the answer in the encyclopedia. You didn't understand a word? Look it up in the dictionary. A straightforward answer was never common in my household. My parents promoted the idea of your own pursuit of knowledge fairly early on to me and my sister and it is the constant curiosity we have that I think really makes my family special.

That being said, sometimes this pursuit of expanding your worldview and knowledge did get us into trouble and not everyone I have met understood this idea of constantly learning. Some people prefer to relax, and let new concepts and words come to them in conversations or through a book they picked out at a library. Some people prefer not to even do that, and simply let themselves be. If they learn something in the process, then whatever. And then there's the people who think they know absolutely everything there is t know about everything and do not believe there is anything else to absorb in terms of education. Let me be frank about this first and foremost, I hate the people who think they know it all.

And wouldn't you have it, that's exactly the direction my life took on that sad and miserable day. . . .

I'm not sure where I was and the memory of how I got into this predicament was muddled at best. There was an impenetrable darkness surrounding me and no matter how far I stretched out my hand, all I could find was the feeling of cold metal.

I turned my body slightly to try another direction only to flinch instead as a sharp pain began to throb on the right side of my head. I sucked in a breath of air as my fingers gingerly press again the pain, only to feel a warmth liquid seeping down my head.

Blood? A shiver wracked through my body and I bit my lip in response. That wasn't good.

I am about to break the silence with a plea for help when the sound of muffled voices and the shuffling of feet beat me to it. Instinctively, I turn my head to the voices but no matter how hard I strain myself I could not make out any words. Was that even Japanese?

I feel a sudden push on the metal environment around me and the squeaking of wheels immediately catches me attention. The voices, still muffled, begin to fade as more and more voices emerge, softly at first, but growing louder with every second. I'm moving, that was obvious, but where was I being moved to? And why couldn't I see anything?

And then, in a flash, all the questions flooding my brain, came to a sudden halt as a cloth is ripped off of my environment and I am staring at nothing but white. It's blinding and I immediately reach out to cover my eyes. What's going on? Where was this?

The sound of hundreds of bodiless voices begin to chatter and whisper in front me. Gasps and laughter begin to harmonize with the prattle and its all I can do not cover my ears and fall to floor. A massive headache was beginning to form and neither the lights nor the sound of people made it any easier to concentrate, much less relax.

It's when I turn my head away from the light that I realize that I am on a stage with large velvet curtains flowing behind me, and the polished oak floor staring up at me. Down the stage, I see the silhouettes of men and women standing backstage, and directly to my right, a man, dressed in turquoise robes with a hat far too large for him balancing on his head. I blink in confusion and look above, and sure enough dozens of spotlights of all shapes, sizes and colours, hang above in a chaotic mess. I was in a theatre of some sorts?

The realization slowly draws on me as I glance back down to where I am lying on my side. Heavy, thick metal bards surround me in a delicate and intricate bird-cage, only about ten times larger. I swallow a lump in my throat. A cage? Just where in the world would someone get something this big, and for what purpose?

My eyes begin to adjust to the light glaring down at me and I am able to start making out figures in the distance. Hundreds of them. Pushing off of the ground of the cage, I move into a sitting position and take another look around from left to right. All I see before me is a crowd of who knows how many with masks of varying shapes and decorative gems covering their faces. Yet, while their noses and foreheads are covered, I can feel every single pair of eyes looking upon me with malice, amusement, embarrassment, and cruelty. It is often said that the eyes are the gateway to the soul, and I have never before felt more naked and raw and exposed than I was right at that moment. I gulp instinctively.

"And now for the last item up for bid, our grand finale!" A voice pierces the chatter and I turn my head to the only other person on stage with me, the man in the turquoise suit. His head tilts towards me, and he gives an exaggerated wink. My stomach churns. "A young, healthy Japanese woman! Keep her as your slave, keep her as a toy. . . Do whatever you please with her. . .It's truly up to you!"

My eyes go wide with every uttered syllable. Slave? Toy!? Is this some kind of joke? A prank? There was no way the courts or government could let this slide, could they? Slavery was illegal and there was no way in Hell that I would ever submit to being some sort of toy, no matter the reason. I bite my lip harder, to try to stop the waves of shakes and nausea slowly creeping on me. This was a dream, or rather, a nightmare of sorts. I will wake up back in my apartment and then head to work as I usually do. This was all imaginary, an illusion. A simulation! It had to be. It just had to be.

But the truth of the situation comes out through the crowd's chuckles and I feel my heart drop to my feet. This is for real. I was here, on this stage (wherever this was) and I was being auctioned off like some artifact from long ago. Only, I wish it was more for artistic purposes than. . .whatever these sick freaks had in mind. The possibilities were endless and that is what scared me the most.

The auctioneer cracks a grin as he struts towards me. His face is caked with white paint, with the only pop of colour being the bubblegum pink decorating his thin lips. His tangled mess of hair juts out from underneath the hat's wide brim in every direction. In a creepy way, he reminded me of a comic book villain, but more put together. And in another way, he reminded me of the literary character, Mad Matter, only less fun and more unstable. Surely someone who auctioned who played auctioneer at a slave market had loose screws. It was madness and complete unethical. Several hundred years ago, this would all be a different story. That realization of slavery being the norm always greatly disturbed me but in this moment, I understood why. My fate didn't belong in my own hands anymore.

I desperately grab the bars in front of me, glaring at the white man. "Let me go." I tried but it came out more like a soft mewl than a growl.

His eyes crinkle with a smile. I knew it even before I opened my mouth that my plea would be ignored, still I had hoped that there was a shred of humanity left in him. Clearly, I was mistaken. "And now we'll start the bidding!"

I can't bear to turn and face him nor the crowd. My head drops, with my eyes still wide and all I do is stare at the metal beneath me. There was no lock and no door on this blasted thing and I knew without even trying that I would break y back before I even moved it an inch let alone lift it up. Sweat begin to pool on my forehand and hands as the anxiety of the situation heightens. I wasn't a person anymore. I was just some item, some prize to be won and be used however one saw fit. It made my skin crawl. It made my blood boil. It made me want to cry, but I couldn't find the courage to do so, not in front of thousands of people, all wanting my. . .services. The thought made me recoil.

I wasn't anything. Tatsuki Furukawa wasn't a damn thing to these people. I see my life, all twenty-five years of it flash before my eyes. The family vacations, all the holiday get togethers, the long nights of studying, the arguments between my sister and I, the first love and the first heartbreak. The threatening sting of tears build in my eyes but I refuse to let a single one drop.

Don't break, I kept telling myself. Don't you dare break in front of these people. Remain strong.

"I have $500, 000 from number five." My ears perked. Five hundred thousand? Where in the world would someone get that kind of money?

"$1 million from thirty.! $1.2 million from number twenty-four!"

Every second a new number was shouted, growing bigger and bigger. I saw on the reflection of the floor, a bright red light flickering as each bid was offered. There was probably some big, LED sign that flashed whatever number was last called, but I didn't have the courage to look around to find it for fear of making eye contact with anyone in this sorry room. Besides, it wasn't for me. It wasn't some sort of compliment, telling everyone that I was worth this much money. It was a way for rich snobs to stroke their ego, flashing their wealth and gain intimidation points with everyone else.

I shut my eyes tight, desperately trying to remember how I got into this mess. The pain throbbing in my head made it hard to concentrate but as this was the only thing I could do, I threw everything I had at it. Did I miss something? Was there a clue? Was there something I could use to help me? Or was this all a miserable attempt at trying to remain sane in my last few moments of whatever this is?

Every muscle tightens in my body as the image of the hotel comes into mind and I clutch at it tightly. Things were hazy and muddled at best, but if I retraced my steps, maybe I could get myself out of this mess. It was, at the very least, worth trying.

Today was a. . .a Tuesday I think. And that meant I had the morning shift. . .

(12 hours ago)

Tokyo, Japan. One of the busiest and brightest cities on this side of the world. It can be overwhelming at times but it is my home. Although, I could do without the crowds. I really hate crowds.

My feet shuffle as I wait for the light to turn green. The sidewalk is as busy as ever with dozens of people standing shoulder to shoulder, eagerly waiting to start their day so they could end their day. Or maybe that was just me. I was eager to get this chapter of my life written and done with so I could move on to the next. You know, the one where my student debts are paid off, and I could finally pursue my dream job without fear. This was all merely a side-step in what would become a wonderful life. I just had to keep my head high, work hard and make no mistakes. I had been saving every paycheck frivolously and I knew that the end was in sight.

The crowd starts pushing forward as the light turns green and I quicken my steps to not become another sandwich like the day before. The last thing I needed, aside from being late, was a broken shoulder.

Upon reaching the other side of the crosswalk, I spun on my heel and strolled down one more block with my desired destination standing tall and proud on the horizon. I breathe a sigh as I dodge pedestrians, making my way to the biggest and brightest hotel in all of Asia. To some it would be a dream come true to work at such a well-recognized and respect establishment. To me? It was a job that paid the bills and nothing more. Honestly, I thought it was all very ridiculous but three years ago when I graduated University with no money, it was the only thing that would accept me as I tried to build a name for myself.

I look up to the very top floor of the hotel, one day, I could afford one of those rooms as I would give some kind of talk or lecture about my work and how I got to be successful. One day, I would be a leader in my field. It was just simply not my time. But it would be soon enough. Very soon.

A smile crept onto my lips as I open the door to the staff change rooms. This would all be worth it in the end. My mother would always tell me that whenever I went to visit for the weekend. I was merely getting back up on my feet and once I was ready, the whole world would watch me.

"Good Morning!" I sing to whomever was in as I enter the room. I wasn't normally the chipper individual as I was today. Often I headed to work in silence, greeting people with a simple wave or nod. But today, I felt different. Maybe I just woke up on the right side of the bed, or maybe it was because I had a well-deserved rest with no interruptions. It may have been the dog I saw on the way to work, or the fact that someone gave up their seat for me on the subway. Maybe it was the fact that as each day rolled past me, I was closer to ending my relationship with this job and ready to start a new one within the next few months (I was hoping at least).

My locker was situated in the back if the room and I made my way over to the corner, dodging benches and scattered hair brushes and pins. The towers of metal storage units stand above me, making my small frame that much smaller. I purse my lips in thought. Who decided that having lockers, or cupboards, or shelves that over half the population can't reach without some sort of assistance was a good idea? It was all a conspiracy to buy more step ladders I think. The day I was hired, the manager had given me a top locker and immediately I demanded one that I could reach without trouble. I wasn't going to carry around heels with me, or a large wooden block everyday just to reach my uniform and other materials. Needless to say, I got a locker at eye level, which made my life far easier.

Nearing the corner, my eyes catch a new poster hanging the lockers. I adjust my glasses, peering at the letters. "HOTEL TRES SPADES AND CASINO" it read with large bolded letters. Design-wise, it was fine. Legible, good colour palette, and nice use of negative space. But to me it felt a little empty. It didn't offer any information about what Tres Spades offered, aside form the obvious. It was good, but I could do better. I wonder if the manager would let me re-design it? For a fee of course. I nodded, making a note of it and pushing the thought to the side as I set down my backpack on the bench beside me before walking up to my locker.

Hotel Tres Spades and Casino huh? To some, it was a crowning achievement what with it being the first legal hotel and casino combination in Japan. Over the past few years it certainly got its fair share of customers and media coverage. I remember the storm that blew up when the hotel was scheduled to be built not just ten years ago and now, here I was here it was. I didn't particularly care for the casino bit, In fact, in my three years of being here, I never once stepped foot into that area of the hotel. I wasn't old fashioned like my grandparents who thought the sin of gambling was well. . . a sin. It brought people from overseas and for all it is, Tres Spades was quite the marvel. The luster of it was lost to me within my first year, but I could understand from an architecture perspective or from a foreign traveller perspective, it's appeal. It was a step for Japan, and many thought it was a step in the right direction for things such as trade, world stage, politics, and travelling. I remember reading a story the other year that since its inception, the hotel and casino has certainly put more coin in Japan's pocket so to speak.

Of course, to others the thought of staying overnight and gambling was still scary. Gambling was a dangerous pastime that left many in crippling dept. It was an addiction that could ruin lives in a matter of moments. I remember once, the manager of the hotel had shown me and a group of other new employees the slots. He had pulled out a bill, and stuffed it into the slot machine before pulling down on the lever. All of us watched in confusion as the screen lit up and numbers and pictures began swirling on a wheel before stopping randomly in a sequence. The machine gave a beep and the manager had won a few dollars which he lost not just moments later when he pulled the lever again. I remember thinking how dull and silly it all was. I would rather spend my time playing a video game, where I could do more than watch numbers blink at me. And hey, video games had gambling too. Fake gambling where I would only risk my fake coin. That was about as close to betting on money I ever got and even then, I still didn't get the appeal of the casino.

Let it be said that I was a quiet kind of girl who preferred reading books and taking walks with my family than to be seen at some sort of party, taking shots and dancing on tables. The hotel held parties down in the casino, often referred to as the I.V.C. events or the International V.I.P Convention. Once a month or so, the hotel turned into a flurry as celebrities, politicians, and millionaires graced the halls and floors with their presence and for a whole week, there would be nothing but music, booze and sex. It was like the Prohibition Era all over again. And everyone who was anyone wanted to be a part of it. Except of course, for me. When all this was going on, I would turn the other way and try my best to hide from all the hustle and bustle.

Money or not, I did not belong there nor did I was to be there. There was safety in the quietness of the hotel, far away from the I.V.C. and its parties. I even avoided the break room when the event was going on. A nice quiet room where I could sit and have my lunch in piece while reading the next chapter of a book? Yes, please.

I quickly jumble my combination out and grab my uniform from the top shelf. It was simple enough, navy knee-length skirt with a matching vest and a puffy white collared shirt with a tie. It wasn't exactly comfortable, and certainly not something I would go out of my way to wear but it covered up what it needed to and was at least stretchy so I could move around. That was enough. I looked presentable, even though all I did was change bedsheets and clean toilets for a living.

I couldn't help but snort at that, but I wasn't sure if it was amusement or more of a pathetic self-realization. I work as a maid, albeit in a fancy hotel, but still. Cleaning. Ergh.

It was kind of sad actually, that here I had spent all this money and time and energy into getting a better education and trying to provide a better life for myself and I end up back at some part-time work trying to find a way to pay the bills I couldn't afford. That isn't to say I haven't found ways of doing the work I spent four years trying to perfect. There was the odd commission I was given, and my online following was decent enough. But I wanted to do more. If I was a part-time maid, then I was a less-than-part-time designer and illustrator and that wasn't any good either.

I stare back up at the poster as I shrug off my jacket. In the bottom left corner of the poster the logo of the Ichinomiya Group, the company that owns this hotel among other things, glares at me. I glare back. A perfect example how a few people benefit greatly from a business opportunity, but don't quite understand the repercussions of it nor the little men and women underneath them. It's fine and all to invest into things, to have a successful company and all. But I doubt that they understood just what having the first casino in Japan meant for its citizens aside from a financial opportunity. Or perhaps I was just a little snarky that for all their weight in gold, the Group wasn't fond of giving its blue collar workers a raise. They were a big company. And while the hotel was certainly their flashiest financial investment, it wasn't their only one. They owned banks and trading companies both in and out of Japan. The were one of the wealthiest companies in all of Japan and probably in the top hundred in the world. They could certainly afford it and yet here I was still living paycheck to paycheck, trying to pay off loans, and working to buy a place of my own, and trying to help my own family and their problems. I have a sister whose entering University with barely a penny to her name and it was cruel that I couldn't help her out as much as I wanted to.

I sigh as I hung up my jacket. Maybe I can ask the manager about a raise again and this time something will come from it. I past my next 500 hour mark, so surely there was something in store for me, right?

"Aren't you all bright eyed and cheery today Tatsuki." A voice responds. I glance to my right to see a young woman.

Her smile is overwhelming, but that's Sakiko for you. A big bubble of energy and giggles. She happened to get hired on just before I came on board and we quickly became friends as we bonded over the nightmare guests and the luxury of the hotel. While it wore off for me, the glamour of Tres Spades never faded for Sakiko. It didn't put a strain on our friendship though as we found other things to bond over, such as our love for good food and late-night gaming get togethers.

"The V.I.P. Convention starts today." She says, opening her locker and grabbing her uniform. "I am so excited, aren't you?"

Stepping out of her dress, she pulls on a uniform similar to mine, only flashier. She works on the casino floor, as such her uniform features silk patterns and fancy jewelry. Whereas mine, needing to be practical, features cotton and is about as plain as can be. It sorted of matched our personalities though I think. Sakiko was always one for fancy and flashy. The centre of attention, not that I minded at all. Whereas I was introverted and shy, Sakiko was extroverted and loved making friends. She attempted to included me in all of her activities whether it was coffee, working out, or small trips to the mall. While I wouldn't go out every single time, her desire to include me was something I greatly appreciated. Sakiko wanted to be my friend, and I loved to spend time with her. We often laughed together over late night conversations. And whenever we worked together, it was a day full of giggles and smiles.

"I bet you'll be busy since you work on the casino floor." I reply as she rakes her fingers through her long hair and begins to make a ponytail. I continue as I slip out of my street clothes and start to pull on my uniform. "Since I'm in charge of all the regular guest rooms, I doubt today will be any different for me." I was kind of glad that it would be quiet for me.

She laughs. "Everyone wants to work in the I.V.C. The parties are big, the people are even bigger."

I nodded. Everyone who was anyone would be at this party and it was extremely stressful for all staff. The air was tense and heavy. While the advertisements certainly helped us get attention, but that attention also made things very difficult. You couldn't take two steps without bumping into someone of importance whether that was an actor, a politician, or CEO. That's why I liked my quiet, regular room duties. The worst I had to worry about was opening the door to some frisky, ordinary couple. Not that I wanted to run into that, but there you go.

I shrug, button up the blouse. "The parties are a bit too extravagant and over-the-top for my tastes. I can't deal with celebrities."

"Don't forget athletes and singers! We get people from all over the world!" She checks her hair in the mirror on her locker's door. Satisfied she turns her face to mine, and she points to her hair. "I applied here not thinking I would even get hired. I totally thought I was dreaming when I did."

I nodded. "Yeah, so did I." In truth, I had little experience that made me qualify as a maid. The only other jobs I had were the odd baby-sitting job and part-time high school work where I served for a bit. I applied here at my mother's urging when I couldn't find a job anywhere else. 'Don't think of it as surrendering,' she told me when I confided in her about my fears of never making it with my degree. 'Think of it as a stepping stone into the mountain your climbing. Money and success comes in time. Right now, you need to rest.'

I was still defeated about not getting hired as a designer of sorts, but when the hotel phoned asking when I could start, I cracked a small smile. A stepping stone. It couldn't have come any sooner though, as my sister was headed to University for her first year and my father recently quit his job to take care of my ailing mother. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but it was an opportunity to help my family and that was enough.

Suddenly, Sakiko starts snickering and I turn in surprise with my eyebrow raised. "Oh my god! What if some rich, famous guy falls in love with me at first sight?"

I roll my eyes sarcastically. Always the hopeless romantic, that Sakiko. She was praying for some man to come and sweep her up off her feet. As for me, I couldn't care less if some guy took notice of me. It was just another thing to stress about in my life that I certainly didn't need. My mother would disagree with that statement.

"Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming there darling." I say as I slip into my shoes. I turn to Sakiko, gesturing to my figure. "Okay?"

She leans in, pretending to be deep in thought with her finger stroking an imaginary moustache. "Mmm, I see I see." She adjusts my tie and brushes off any stray hairs or dust that collected on my uniform over the night. "There, perfect. You look good!"

I shrug at the comment, throwing up my hair in a bun and follow Sakiko out of the room and into the lobby. On the far left in the lobby are a set of extravagant stairs, similar to the ones you would find in a castle, minus the rubble and ruin. They start of straight and then spiral up to the floors above. If any celebrity wanted to create an entrance, they would do so right there. I am sure many proposals were also conducted right there too.

Directly across from our change rooms is the front desk, surrounded by bellhops and bus boys all in uniform ready to take guests to their rooms. Some of them turn and smile at us in greeting.

The tiled, marble floor glistens under the extravagant crystal chandeliers hanging above. The Ichinomiya Group really spared no expense at the decor of this hotel and the higher rooms were not much different than the lobby. Exotic plants paint the floor, giving the room a sweet, fresh smell. The elevators to the rest of the hotel are off to the side. They too are dressed up with laced bars and glass on the inside.

To the direct right of us stands a group of reports and onlookers all chattering to one another. Gasps begin to sound one by one and people excitingly point towards the door as celebrities begin to walk in.

"Hey, isn't that the guy from Lovers of Music? I loved that show!" A voice breaks from the crowd. Instinctively I look over.

Not surprising, I couldn't see a damned thing and start to stand on the tips of my toes to see who's next. Sakiko offers her shoulder to in effort to balance me. "Who do you see? Anyone I would recognize?!" She whispers to me.

I shift a little. The celebrities pile in with varying ethnicities. Slowly I begin to recognize a few from various films and shows that I had watched over the years. In a way, it was kind of exciting to see them in person, even if they were several feet away. The world somehow felt a little smaller. I spent so many hours watching them on the screen of my laptop, but now here they were, almost close enough to touch and they were real.

"Well!?" She squeaks.

"I think I see. . ."

She immediately clenches onto my arm in a vice grip. I wince in surprise. "Oh my god! Tatsuki! Look who just got out of that limo!" She points near the doors and I squint to see who she is talking about. "That guy is always on the VIP lists. They call him the King."

I snicker under my breath. King?! You can't be serious. Who calls themselves 'The King?' I roll my eyes, "Where?" I ask. If anything, I could use a good laugh today. I wanted to see just what kind of person a 'King' was. Would he be old or young? Wealthy or merely a person with a lot of status? I had certainly met my fair share of people who thought they were all that and frankly, I was not impressed by anyone who had to make themselves bigger than what they were.

My eyes glance left to right, scanning the crowd for a limo and some fancy man. It takes me a few tries but eventually, through a gap in the crowd, I see it, or rather him. He stands, waving the limo away before turning to the doors, strutting through them with poise and confidence. I didn't even need to know the man's name to tell what type of person he was. Immediately I was put off, and a matching frown painted my lips.

He is a tall man, towering over many of the women that were glued to his sides. I roll my eyes, yep, that's a King alright. A player. A man who didn't care one lick about the people beneath him. I turn slightly to see if I knew any of the women around him. To his left are aspiring model Kiko and next to her Ryoko Shinozuka, another famous actress. I frowned. I count them one by one. Over a dozen of them have planted themselves around him, like a wall. All of them are famous: actresses, singers, models, directors, and even a celebrity doctor. Just who was this guy?

As if she heard my question, Sakiko whispers in my ear. "He's been living in the penthouse suite for a while now." She too is now on the tips of her toes, peering over the crowd to look at the man.

"Are you serious? No one can afford that." The penthouse, not surprising, was the most expensive room in the entire hotel. I had yet to go up there, not that I had any reason to. It was as executive as it gets and a measly maid such as myself would never be given the time of day. I wasn't complaining though, the more important the guest meant the more could go wrong. I'll stick with the frisky couple.

Sakiko goes down to her heels with a chuckle. "Well, we can't afford it. C'mon, we should head to the morning huddle."

"Oh, right." I follow her lead as we maneuver around the crowd towards the front desk. I couldn't help but wonder though, what could that man possibly do for a living to be able to earn that much money? A surgeon? A lawyer? A CEO of a major corporation? I admit, I was curious. Even just a little.

The man pays no attention to the huge crowd and simply walks straight ahead with his eyes narrowed and focus. As Sakiko and I twist and turn, I find myself constantly looking back to him. The frown is still present on my lips. What an ass, I thought.

As we round another group of young women, their sudden squeals break me out of my trance. "Kyaaaaah!" Their shrill voices fill the lobby. "Eisuke is here!"

I grimace in pain. Right in my fucking ear. They screamed right in my ear. I grasp my head, taking a step back, while trying to bring some distance between me and the fangirls. I continue to step back, feeling the dull ringing in my ears. Without warning, I am slammed into as more women of all ages swarm past me to try to catch up to the one called Eisuke. Was he the King? I guess it doesn't matter. But the force that they hit me with is so tremendous that I am pushed right out of the crowd and sent tumbling forward. I try to reach out for the closest blur to hold me steady but instead I smack right into a figure and onto my ass with a loud THUD. In front of dozens. The fall knocks my glasses off of my face and onto my lap.

With one hand, I rub my head, my ears still ringing from the screams while the other reaches for my glasses. This was the exact reason why I hate these celebrity get-togethers. No good can come from it. And here I was, innocent and humiliated.

The ringing clears and I put my glasses back on, adjusting where they sat on my nose. With my vision clear, I look down and see a shiny pair of leather shoes mere centimetres away from me. My eyes travel upwards slightly, to a pair of legs, dressed in freshly pressed pants, and further along, a leather belt garnished with a gold buckle. I kept going up. There was an open suit jacket paired with a gray striped vest, a lilac purple collared shirt, and then onto a thin but chiseled face with dark locks swinging down to brush his eyes. Oh, okay. So that just happened.

It was a stare that would make even Medusa herself jealous. The piercing brown eyes remind me of chocolate but they are anything but sweet. I gulp. Of course it would be just my luck that I was slammed into the very man I did not want to cross. The very one that just moments ago Sakiko was ogling at.

He is silent and no emotion is evident on his features. I bow my head in apology, "I-I'm so sorry." I feel my face turn red in embarrassment. The threat of tears are on my eyes. That fall really did hurt.

A number of gasps are audible and I can hear people scream, "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Another shouts out, "How dare you touch Eisuke!"

"Are you alright?" Another. "Such a slut."

I narrowed my eyes but kept my head low. Don't cause a scene, Tatsuki. It's not worth it. "I'm really sorry." I try again, louder. "It was an accid-"

He scoffs at me, kicking his feet before turning away. "Get out of the way." He brushes off his suit, giving me one last glare before disappearing to the stairs. Many of the groupies follow his lead, avoiding me as if I had done the most despicable thing in the world.

With a huff, I scramble to my feet, rubbing my lower back. Nothing broken, thank god, but boy will I have one heck of a bruise thanks to those groupies over there.

I hear Sakiko's steps as she runs over to me. "Are you okay?" She asks, holding my shoulders. I nod in affirmation. Sakiko takes my hand and pulls me forward, away from the judging stares. She chuckles quietly, "You got up and personal with the King. I'm jealous. Does he smell great?"

I almost choke on my own spit when she asks that. "Excuse me?"

She winks back at me, "Oh relax Tatsuki. I'm just teasing." It was her way of trying to break the ice. I roll my eyes again at her. At least I could always count on Sakiko to make me laugh.

I begin to smooth out my clothes with her help. When she is satisfied, she takes my hand and we head to the staff room, situated behind the front desk. Just as we turn behind the desk, down a short hallway, I can hear a click-clack of heels coming towards us. They are close, and making a b-line towards us. I glance behind me and inwardly grimace. Oh no, not them. This day just went from bad, to worse. Sakiko gives me a nervous look before we stop and turn to face the three women.

"Just what were you thinking, making a fool out of yourself! In front of such an important guest. Are you stupid?" The eerily high-pitched voice belongs to none other than Queen B herself, Erika. Her duel twin posse, are close behind.

The three of them were basically the same bullies from primary and secondary school that made my life miserable. Erika has never liked me ever since I started to work here, and I never understood why. I barely spoke to her. And we rarely ran into one another at work. I worked twenty floors below her!

The twins, Rina and Kana, weren't bad if you were able to get them away from Erika, but that was as rare of a moment as you could get. The three girls were practically glued hip to hip. And when all three of them together, it was a nightmare of endless shrill shrieks, angry comments, and death glares. Most of the time, I simply ignored them.

I sigh, crossing my arms. I was not in the mood to play 20 questions with the girls. And to think this morning started so well. "I'm sorry?" I start. "It was an accident Erika. The crowd got too riled up and I was bumped into. It happens."

She wags her newly manicured hand at me. "No, it was your fault for not paying attention to what was going on around you. Besides, why are you even here Tatsuki!? You are in charge of the regular guests anyway. I should report you for this. You have no business whatsoever to be around the VIPs."

I raise an eyebrow at her. She was right, I was in charge of the regular, average guests. And yes, I had no reason to be around VIPs, not that I wanted to be around them in the first place. But how was this a big deal when I, heading to the morning meeting, came into contact with guests who just happened to be celebrities and the like in the lobby? The lobby was neutral ground. I wasn't involved with anyone and everyone who actually paid attention, like Sakiko, saw that it was a mere accident.

I breathe in and out, trying to calm my rising anger. Count to ten. Don't punch her in the face. One, two, three. . .

"Try getting promoted to VIP maid like me, and THEN we'll talk. Until then," She waves her hand mockingly at me with a sneer on her face. The twins blow fake kisses towards me, their faces still scrunched up in annoyance.

As if, I thought to myself. Why would I want to be a VIP maid? All that stress? Not only would I have to keep their rooms clean like everyone else, but I am responsible for overall well-being! One wrong folded sheet, wrong one petal out of place and I would be done for. No thank-you Erika, I am good.

She and her posse begin to leave and as she does so, she calls back to me with yet again one of her "special" orders. She does that to me every day. Every. Single. Day. Some days I really want to take that ugly pony tail of hers and just yank her around the lobby. I don't because that is wrong and I know better. But the image of giving her a piece of my mind certainly helps calm my nerves. M so called happy-place. I just had to make it through a few more months of this before I could leave happy and free and start my life.

"Don't forget," Her snooty voice begins. "Go to every floor and drop off all the special gift boxes for the guests staying for the spa package."

I tilt my head and jut my hip out. "You mean all by myself." It wasn't a question. I knew what she was doing. It was practically scheduled in every day for 10am. Oh and would you look at the time?

"Of course, all by yourself. I'm busy. You got a problem with that?" Her autumn hair swings back and forth as she walks away to the change rooms. The twins stick out their tongues at me before hurrying after her. My eyes narrow as I watch them leave. Why hasn't she been fired yet? This is employee harassment.

Sakiko shakes her head and pulls me along to the meeting. "Just forget about them. They aren't worth it."

After the meeting, I head back to the front desk to pick up a cart and head towards the basement. I guess someone had to deliver these baskets, and it looks like it is me. Again. With a sigh, I resign to my fate. One day, Erika would get what was coming to her. For now, I could be happy for at the very least, I wasn't going to see any celebrity, their groupie, or Erika for hours. And that was glorious.

As I get closer to the elevator to head into the basement, I see a couple arguing at the doors. The woman, a young thing with long hair, begins to tear up and shoves a mask she is holding onto the man's chest. The man, dressed in a black hat and a red-velvet jacket, fumbles with the object. "I cannot take it anymore!" She cries out in frustration. "It's over, you . . . you cheater!"

I look at the mask as it falls to the floor. A beautiful emerald green, encrusted with bright white stones and gold embroidery thread. It was the sort of mask one would wear to a ball, or one commonly seen in films. I look back up only to have the woman brush past me with tears streaming down her face. Poor thing. I knew what it was like to have someone cheat on you.

The man sighs and picks up the mask, brushing it off with his hands. "Now I don't have a date." I begin to open my mouth, with the intention of asking if he was alright (one of our employee responsibilities) before his eyes meet with mine and I find myself quickly looking away. I felt awkward and a blush forms over my cheeks.

"You saw the whole thing, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry sir. I didn't mean to." It was the truth. I came to the elevator to do my job. He was in the way. But I mean, I realize I could have left just as easily too and come back a few minutes later.

He waves his hand as if to say my 'interference' was fine. "No, no it's okay. C'mon. I will explain everything when we get there." He reaches for my hand.

I try to pull back, but he is too quick to me. "Huh?! Um . . . Sir?!" Before I can even react, the man pulls me into the elevator with him, my cart long forgotten in the lobby. The door closes just as I try once more to free myself but the man isn't showing any signs of releasing my hand.

He laughs. "Whew, I'm lucky I found another date." He glances at me, flashing a toothy grin. "There's absolutely no way I could go to the party without a beautiful woman on my arm."

I tug my hand away from him and step back to give some distance. I need to remain professional but firm. "Party?" I ask glaring at the number panel. The glass reflects the two of us on every wall. I can see that he's watching me intently and I do everything I can to avoid eye contact. "You mean the I.V.C?" He was dressed up, there was no way he would be here for any other reason than to go to the party in the casino.

He straightens his silver tie. "Isn't it obvious? Just look at me." He reeks of confidence, just like the King did when he strode past me in the lobby. But it wasn't the kind of confidence that made you smile and look at someone with admiration. It was the kind of confidence that was overbearing, one that made you feel inferior and put you off.

So this is a VIP guest? Knowing that this man clearly had more wealth and status than me was intimidating. And while I had to remain polite and helpful to all guests, I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with this one. I needed to get out of this elevator and head back to the lobby. And maybe throw in a report to the manager.

"I'm really sorry." I mutter. Truth be told, I was kind of embarrassed for being caught eavesdropping, that was true. Even though it was an accident. "But sir, I work at the hotel. I can't go with you to this party. It's. . .Well, it's just policy. Besides. . . I'm not really into that kind of thing. And what about the other woman?"

He leans back. "What are you talking about? The reason she left was so I could meet you, pretty lady." He pulls my hand towards his mouth and plants a gentle kiss on each of my knuckles. My face turns beet red and I pull away from him, knocking my back into the wall of the elevator. Way too close for comfort!

He grins again, stepping towards me and gently lifts my chin up towards him. His face is so close I can feel his breath against my neck. His hazel eyes peer into my own and for a moment I am still. "Yeah, you're just my type, " He says, moving in closer. "This is destiny."

Reality hits me and I push him away from me. Look here buddy, I thought to myself, we just met and I am not that kind of girl. Sleaze.

The elevator dings and the doors open to reveal the ballroom. The room, massive in scope, is filled to the brim with people. The walls are lavishly decorated with flowing drapes and delicate strings of lights. Golden chandeliers hang above, giving the room a romantic glow. A string quartet situated in the corner, bring a soft buzz to the crowd.

"Let's go, Princess." Contrary to his soft demeanour, the man with the hat drags me into the ballroom before I even form a protest. I frown, trudging after the man who was practically pulling off my arm. The moment he lets my hand go, I will run to these elevators and head straight to the manager's office. I just hope that was sooner than later.

The floor is covered in a velvet, blood-red carpet, that shimmers when the light hits it a certain way. Buffet tables are scattered throughout the room, topped with cupcakes, caviar, champagne, and everything in between. In the back of the room sits an aquarium, just recently installed, and people's gasps fill the room as fish of every colour swim by. It is the stuff out of fantasy, let me tell you. The Ichinomiya Group loved to be extravagant. I personally found it all very overwhelming. But I suppose one must maintain a certain air of. . .I'm not really sure what the Group was trying to achieve here. A blatant display of their wealth and influence? An air of professionalism that these kind of people were used to?

I've never seen so many fancy people in a single place before. I've never actually really seen celebrities and the like before either. The dresses were long and sparkled like the stars and their shoes were just as dazzling. The coloured suits and tuxedos also livened the room and I couldn't help but be aware of how much I did not fit into any of this.

Subconsciously, I begin to count just how many people I recognized. The man in the corner in the purple suit, he was on the national soccer team I think. Across the room stands Reiko Takatsuka, one of my favourite actresses. Even the former Prime Minister Fukuzawa is here!

I am so wrapped up in looking around me, that it takes me a moment to realize that the man who had brought me here has completely disappeared. I frantically left and right trying to spot him, without trying to bring attention to myself. This was my chance!

I take a step back. Nothing. I take another and no one notices. Finally, the break I was looking for. I spin on my heel, the elevators in sight but suddenly, I hear a voice from behind me.

"Hey, do you have any champagne?"

I grimace in annoyance and turn around to face the individual. My mouth drops open slightly, I recognized him. He was on this month's issue of "R.I.P.S.," a popular woman's magazine I see in the convenience store next to my apartment from time to time. Not only that, but he was a man I followed on social media. An artist who I drew some of my inspiration from.

The magazines told the truth when they stated that he was one of the handsomest bachelor's in Japan. His face, soft and clean is surrounded by golden waves. His eyes, a honey amber, are bright and inviting. He almost has a boyish innocence to him. Though that wasn't surprising as he was about the same age as me and I haven't quite grown into my looks.

I am able to muster enough courage to speak, but only just, "O-Ota Kisaki? The artist?"

He grins. "Oh? You know who I am? Thanks." He brushes his hair out of his eyes. "You want an autograph or something?"

I blink, not quite comprehending the situation I was in. "Uh. . . I don't really have anything for you to sign with. I'm on shift."

He shrugs with amusement. "Next time then."

Ota Kisaki was very well-known for his painting. His work was often on the more sublime side of things, portraying the weird and incomprehensible. More often than not, I couldn't tell what exactly the subject was but I enjoyed the colours and organization nonetheless. I preferred his water-colour portraits myself. I heard that recently he got into modelling and I could see why. I wasn't drooling or anything, but I could see the appeal.

"I-I'm sorry for being rude," I bow my head. "But I am not-" I stop myself. I may be a regular guest maid, but Mr. Kisaki was a guest and it was my duty to see to every guest's need should they ever ask, regardless of who they were. Besides, it was hard to say no to a favourite artist of mine. It was only champagne, how hard could it be? "I'll go get your champagne right away sir."

I look left and then right. I couldn't seem to find the drink table I had just spotted before. Maybe behind those people over there? Or was it. . . was it in the corner? I purse my lips in thought. I could have sworn I saw a drink table with a bucket.

Ota chuckles next to me. "You sure you work here? You look a lot like Alice when she stumbled onto the Mad Hatter's tea party."

I understood the reference but I didn't understand why it was brought up "I'm sorry?"

He pats my shoulder. "Oh, nothing. Hey, I see some champagne over on that table. I hope you get back safely Miss Alice." One final smile before he walks away leaving me both confused and bewildered. Alice stumbling onto the Mad Hatter's tea party? Huh. I never heard of that metaphor in conversation but it certainly felt accurate right now. I was lost and very much out of my element. I wanted to go home.

I quietly try to leave the ballroom once more before I cause any more trouble, or unnecessary attention but before I reach the elevator's door, a stocky man stands in my way. He grins at me and yanks my hand. Ugh, not again. Another sleaze.

"Mmhmm," he nods. He takes my hand and lifts it to his nose and takes a big whiff. "I love girls like you."

My eyes widen. Don't think I won't take you on Asshole, I thought to myself. Just try me.

"You wanna come with me to give me some . . . special room service?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me. "I'll make sure to tip you for the extra work." His greasy face is flushed as he looks me up and down. His eyes stop on the second time at my chest.

Tatsuki. You are on shift. And he is a guest. Breathe girl. Breathe. Disengage from the situation and then find the manager.

"I'm sorry sir," I say almost robotically. "We do not offer that type of service here at Tres Spades."

He didn't hear, or maybe just chose to ignore my comment. "You're pretty lucky you met me. My net worth is $500 million. . ."

I purse my lips. As if that would even make a difference to me. I had bills to pay, and I may be struggling to keep my head above water, but I certainly did not need any assistance from anyone, much less a guy like this.

His snake-like arm slips around my waist and he is about to pull me towards him when the tall man I bumped into in the lobby earlier comes up behind the stocky man trying to get with me. As much as I didn't like either of them, I was glad someone stepped in to help me out.

"This party just got really trashy," the man says with a sneer. Eisuke. . . I think that was his name? The King or something? He looks directly at me and scowls even worse than before. "You again." Yep, that's him.

I open my mouth to offer an explanation but before I can begin Eisuke scoffs at me. "You're in my way. Move."

His harsh tone is enough to get the sleazebag off of me and I move to the side to let Eisuke through. I bow my head, not letting him see my face. Man was that guy a prick, I thought to myself.

The sleazebag begins to stumble over his words as he too, bows his head. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Ichinomiya sir! Pardon me! I don't know what came over me. She. . .She looked at me the wrong way and I. . ." He trails off as Eisuke continues to walk away. He furiously wipes away the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, before scampering away.

I stood there looking completely dumb-founded as the realization dawns on me. Did he just say. . . Mr. Ichinomiya? As in THE Ichinomiya group? The ones that own this very hotel? Oh no. I gulp as I realize my mistake. Oh god no. I quickly head to the elevator once more, hoping this time I can get away. Back to where I belong.

"Let's go Eisuke," A girl chimes in. Her voice pierces the ballroom and without looking, I knew she was looking at me. "I just can't stand people who don't know their place."

I swallow, concentrating on my breathing. I turn my head slightly, watching as she and several other women, surround and cling onto Eisuke as he keeps walking away from me. I find myself suddenly very overwhelmed by his presence. He held a lot of power, and in particular, whether he knew it or not, he held a lot of power over me and my family. It was a feeling of frustration and fear all at the same time.

As I reached out to call the elevator, my eyes catch a glimpse of a white glove on the floor, where Mr. Ichinomiya once stood. I close my eyes, begging for my moral and values to shut-up for once in their life, but to no avail. Dammit.

I pick it up and turn it over. The glove was nothing special. Clean, soft but no pattern or label to distinguish it. "Um sir? Excuse me, Sir?" I try to call out to him but he can't hear me as he is far into the crowd bustle by now. I clutch the glove tighter and chase after the black suit only to lose sight of him mere moments later. Fuck.

My eyes dance across the room, hoping to find something. Anything that could help me. I am able to catch a glimpse of a figure dressed in black with a purple collar peeking through as he heads through a door in the back of the ballroom, alone. I make my way through the busy crowd and follow him but quickly lose sight once again as I end up in the back hallways. They are deserted.

I glance up and down the hallway, trying to listen for footsteps. "Which room did he go into?" I mutter under my breath. Several doors line up both sides, he could be any one of them. As I step further into the corridor, I am able to pick out several voices further down. Is that Mr. Ichinomiya?

As I get closer to the last door on the left, I can see light peaking through it's small opening. Taking a chance, I peek through the gap. In the middle of the room sits a metal table with several black briefcases placed on top of it. In one brief case, there are pistols and rifles. I gulp and a cold sweat begins to drip down my back. Guns? Here? Another briefcase, to my horror, is overflowing with cash.

I shouldn't be here, I think to myself. I need to find a phone right now.

But I find myself unable to move away from the door. I am enraptured by what's going on and the logic side of me is begging for more information. I may need to identify these men, or describe what I saw in clarity. In my peripherals, I see three men dressed in black suits walk over to the side of the table. They appear to be arguing about something. One man, the leader I think, slams his fist onto the table and the vibrations cause a few bills to fall out of the briefcase and onto the floor.

Another, in hushed whispers, begins to point to the third man standing in the back. But I can't understand them. I think they are speaking in Cantonese? They didn't look like anyone I would recognize. I wonder if they are some kind of gun smugglers?

I suck in a breath, I really need to get out of here. NOW. Just as I begin to turn on my heel, an arm reaches out and grabs me, roughly pulling me into the room with all the guns and wads of cash. I couldn't even comprehend what was happening as the man pulls me forward, swings me around and shoves me up against the wall. My heart is pounding a million times a minute.

The man leans in close to my ear and with a fierce voice he demands, "What are you doing here?" He towers over me. His hair, jet as the night, is slicked back with not even a single hair out of place. His piercing black eyes drill holes into my soul and for the first time in a long while, I am scared. I begin to tremble violently.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat but it doesn't do any good. "I-I. . ." I try to speak but my voice is shaking and weak.

"You've got five seconds to disappear and forget everything you just saw little girl." He says as he steps back. "Otherwise," he grabs my arm one last time, tightly. "You'll be wiped off the face of the earth."

I desperately nod over and over, tears spilling on my cheeks. The man pauses, as if contemplating releasing me but just as I begin to lose faith, he finally releases my arm. Without hesitation I sprint out of the room so quickly that my legs tangle together and I am sent flying down the hall. A quick turn to the right and I reach the storage room, my breath heavy and my heart pounding so hard it feels like it will burst out of my chest.

I couldn't believe that that man had just let me go. It was a relief but I couldn't help but worry about what would happen should I ever see him again. My body begins to start working automatically without my telling it to do so. I guess I am in shock, but who wouldn't be? I grab a cardboard box off of a shelf in the corner that is filled with the gift set for the guests. I spin around ready to leave the room when I smack into something and fall back onto the ground. The box flies over my head and lands just a few feet away, spilling its contents on the floor. I lift my head and see two harsh men peeking inside a wooden crate that had just dropped onto the ground.

"The Statue of Venus! It's broken!" One of the men shout as he pries the lid open.

"What?" I crawl on my hands and knees and head over to peer inside the crate. White pieces of glass litter the box. I am able to pick out a nose and an eye through the pieces. Shit.

Embarrassed, I look up. My voice begins to quiver as tears form in my eyes again. "I'm so sorry!"

The men look at one another with pale faces and wide eyes. I glance back down at the Statue or what was left of it. I recognize it from somewhere, that much I knew. But I couldn't place my finger on it. Flashes of images from magazines and television fill my head. This was in the news recently. It was a gift I think? The President of France gave this to Japan's Prime Minister not just a few months ago, I seem to recall. At the very least, tt sure looked like it. But the Statue was stolen just last week. I was sure of it.

The other man pipes in as I back away from the crate. "This was going to be auctioned off today. It was supposed to be the highlight. How are you gonna pay for this?"

"I don't know. I just work here," I counter back, flustered. "I had no idea someone else was down here. I'm so sorry."

The first man grabs my hair and pulls my ribbon out. The black strands pool around my face. "You think an apology is going to fix this problem kid? You owe us!" He yanks. Hard. The tears begin to fall out one by one.

"I swear," I cry out. "I didn't know." I try to pull away and swing at them only to have the man pulling my hair take his hand and knock me upside the head. My vision fades for a brief moment and dark spots appear.

I try once again to swing at them with my fists but the moment I do, the second man puts a cloth over my mouth and I begin to feel woozy. "What. . . did you just-" I didn't even finish my sentence as darkness begins to spread and my limbs go numb. There was a loud THUD and then. . . nothing.

"Number five for 2 million! Going once. . ." The auctioneer's voice breaks me out of my reverie and once again I find myself in the cage facing masked men and women all wanting my body to do as they please. I had really hoped that this was just all a dream and I would wake up but when I opened my eyes the truth was laughing at me. Showing its hideous and horrifying features at me. Thousands of eyes. It made me nauseous. I was put up for auction in place of the Venus statue.

I glance around again seeing if I could find who number five was, the one who bid over 2 million dollars. My blood runs cold as I find the greasy old creep from the ballroom sitting there with a sick grin plastered on his face. Even though he is wearing a mask, I would recognize that sleaze from a mile away. I shuddered. He's the one? He's the one who's going to buy me? Why!?

I glare down at my hands, they are cuffed and completely useless. There was no way I could escape. It was torture. I meant nothing to these people and that man was one of the worst.

"Number five going twice." The auctioneer calls again. My eyes go wide.

I clasp my hands, or tried to anyway, into a prayer, hoping beyond all hope that some guardian would come down and save me from this Hell. Anything. I will do anything. Just please. Help me. I don't want to me bought by that creep. I don't want to be a slave or a toy or whatever horrible concoction he has planned.

Even the auctioneer pauses, as if knowing what this man had planned. He coughs, "If there are no other bids. . . ."

My head hangs low and I begin to quiver. I fall to the floor, it's hopeless. I'm going to die. Or rather, death would be a blessing right now. Just make it brief. The tears I have been holding back begin to overflow and my sniffling begins to fill the stage.

I see the auctioneer pause his final call and look at me. For a brief moment, I see sympathy in his eyes, but it wasn't much comfort. He turns back to the crowd and I resign myself to my fate. So this was it. This was as far as I went.

And then . . .a commotion suddenly fills the auction hall. I see out of the corner of my eye, the auctioneer smiling. He winks at me once more. I blink in confusion.

"Seat number 100 with a bid of $20 million dollars!"

My mouth goes dry. Wait what? 20 million dollars? How many zeroes are even in 20 million dollars!? Through my vision, although blurred by my fat tears, I am able to see the bid amount flash on the screen to the side of the stage. All I can do is stare up at the sum of the winning-bid, completely dumbfounded.

"Are there any more bids?" The crowd continues to buzz with cheers and laughter. A loud bell buzzes and the auction comes to a screeching halt. "SOLD to the man in seat hundred for $20 million dollars!" The buzzing and lights continue to flash and my head feels heavier and heavier. The throbbing starts up again, but worse.

Someone bought me for twenty million dollars? I can't believe it. I barely have enough time to process it all when I feel my cage being lifted and carried over to the edge of the stage. I desperately try to catch a glimpse of who bought me but I can't. I see, number five, frown, glaring at me with malice. Well, I thought. It can't be any worse. . . right?

Once brought to the side, two men approach me and open the cage, helping me out of it. One of them reaches into his pocket to hand me a cloth so I could wipe the blood off the side of my head. The other stands there, watching the crowd leave through a break in the curtains. I recognize the men as being the red-velvet suit guy with the hat from the elevator and Ota Kisaki who wore a purple jacket with red and white stripes. Or at least, I think it was them. There had been so many surprises today that I was too exhausted to care.

"This way," The man in the hat whispers gesturing for me to follow. But where are taking me? Who even bought me? The day wasn't over just yet but I needed to lie down. I was dizzy, and confused and completely drained of everything. My body feels numb and I cannot even begin to fathom this entire situation. Not that I wanted to understand anything about this situation.

But it is as they say, out of the frying pan. . . .

With the help of whom I assumed to be Mr. Kisaki and hat guy, I have been lead into the penthouse suit. Out of all the hotel employees here, chefs and all, only the manger is ever allowed to come up here. While it is both shocking and impressive to see the suite I still can't believe that there are secret, black-market auctions going on underneath the hotel.

The one who I strongly believe to be Ota, touches my shoulders as if presenting me. "We brought her." I glare at him. To think he was a part of this. There was no way in Hell I wanted his autograph anymore, and I made a mental note to unfollow every account of his.

In front of me is a red sofa where two men sit with their legs crossed. I recognize both and inside me, a deep rage begins to boil. I can't believe it. "You're. . ." To the left sits Eisuke, a smug look on his face. To his right, the slick-haired gun smuggler from before with a solemn expression. Was this some kind of sick joke!?

"We bought you." Eisuke says nonchalantly.

"So we ended up catching you after all," the smuggler replies under his breath.

Ichinomiya turns to the smuggler with wide eyes, pointing to me. "You know this woman, Soryu?"

"I guess you could say that."

I shake my head. "Wait, wait, wait. You BOUGHT me? What do you mean? That auction. . ." I am lost and confused and it is making me even more mad. The pounding starts again and I clutch at my head, wincing.

The man in the hat approaches me from behind, "Are you alright? You need some water or something?"

"Don't fucking touch me." I growl out. "I want answers. What the hell is going on?"

The hat man gives me a weak smile. "He means we won you at the auction."

Ota taps my shoulder once more. "For $20 million, the boss must've gotten dragged into it, too."

I flinch at the touch and slide over a few inches. Now is not the time for games or for making nice. I just wanted answers and I wanted them now. As if sensing my thoughts, the two men take off their masks and just as I predicted, they are the man from the elevator and the artist.

"Mr. Kisaki. And you. You brought me to the I.V.C"

Ota laughs and shoves the hat man lightly. "Pfft, she doesn't even know your name Baba. That's a laugh."

Hat guy waves the comment aside. "Didn't have time to tell her."

I cross my arms and cock my hip to the side. I am not amused by their antics right now. "Enough." I turn to the King. "You won me in an auction. But I am a human being! I shouldn't have even been UP for auction."

I turn to the man, Baba, and Kisaki. "And you two, just what the fuck is wrong with you!?" I send piercing glares to each of the men, hoping that they will feel my scorn. How sick of a person do you even have to be to feel comfortable selling and buying a human?

Baba gives me a gentle smile, as if that would help eliminate my seething rage. It didn't. "Anything and everything's for sale at that auction. It's all fair game."

"Stolen art," Kisaki interrupts, and he begins to list things off one by one as he counts them on his fingers. "Secret information about politicians. Old artifacts. Case files. Heck, you can even hire a hit-man if you really wanted to."

Baba continues his explanation as Kisaki trails off listing off more items. "If there is someone out there to buy it, you can sell it. There are no rules." He pauses for a second and stares at me for a moment. "This is actually the first time a person's ever been auctioned off though. At least, as far as I am aware."

"Oh," I scoff. "Because that makes such a big difference. You people are sick."

Ota leans in close to me and I put up my hands in defence. I needed space and I was just seconds away from losing all sanity. "You must have done something pretty bad, huh Alice?"

"Don't." He steps back and I take it as a sign to continue. "Besides, there is no way an auction like this would ever be allowed here. It's illegal. Who would ever even approve of something like this?"

To my surprise and horror, Eisuke raises his hand, "I did." I stand there, completely bewildered. He continues without missing a beat, "If it is worth anything, it's here. And I guess that also applies to you."

Soryu scoffs and scrunches up his nose in mild disgust. "You are reckless as always. This woman isn't worth anything."

"But wouldn't it be fun," Eisuke begins as he lifts up a glass of wine. "Thinking up ways to use her?"

Oh, that was it. "What gives you the bloody fucking right to decide that!?" Immediately, I lunge at the man but before I can even brush against his suit, I am grabbed by Baba and Ota.

"Oh wow," Baba chuckles. "We picked a feisty one. I knew this was destiny."

Eisuke sneers. "And who gave you permission to speak?" I'll be honest, wasn't expecting that kind of rebuttal and I am taken aback for a moment or two. Mr. Ichinomiya takes my brief silence as his go ahead. "Don't open your mouth unless I say so."

I open my mouth to give that brunette prick a piece of my mind once more but Soryu cuts in before the first insult even reaches my lips. "If you gotta problem with it, would you rather go back to Number five?"

My threatening body language immediately drops and while Ota releases me, Baba's hands are still on my shoulders. I narrow my eyes at Soryu. I hate to admit it but scary as he was, he had a point. Death seemed to be far more welcoming than whatever that nasty old man had in mind for me. Not that I really had the choice. It was either them or some creep with a fetish. I silently admit defeat and shake my head sadly. Like I said, I didn't really have a choice to begin with.

"Come on now Boss. . .Soryu. You should be nice to the girls." Baba attempts to cheer me up. "We need to decide to gets to keep her."

I glare at him. "No one is deciding anything here. Not you, not Kisaki, not some gun smuggler, and certainly not some pompous, rich bastard." This was unfair. It was illegal and there was no way they were getting away with it. Not on my watch. I'll scream bloody-murder if I have to.

Ota gives a small giggle and pouts at me. "Aww, I was getting pretty fond of you already."

"I am not being bought by anyone. By any of you! I am not some slave. Or toy." I try to back up towards the penthouse door but Baba's grip tightens. He leans in close to my ear and tries to brush my bangs out of my eyes. I slap his hand away in disgust but he goes unfazed by it.

"There is nothing to be afraid of Princess. If I buy you that is. I treat women with respect and dignity. I'm the only good guy around here. Trust me."

Eisuke stands up and pours himself another glass of red wine. "Says the world famous thief." He takes a sip and lets the taste linger on his lips for a few seconds. "But, you would say that wouldn't you?"

My head spins back to Baba. "You're a thief?" He nods proudly. Part of me begins to wonder if that glove in my pocket was actually his and not Eisuke's.

"Oh stop, you are just trying to lower his stock." Ota snaps the glass out of Eisuke's hands and downs the remaining wine in a few gulps. "C'mon Eisuke, you've got tons of groupies. Just play with them."

Ichinomiya glares at the empty glass before smirking and brushing off his jacket. "Soryu's the one who could have his pick. I am sure there are lots of women who'd do anything to be the lover of a Hong Kong Mobster."

My head snaps back to Soryu who stops drinking and stares at Eisuke for a good long while in silence. I knew I should be surprised by this revelation but honestly? I wasn't. The guns, the money, the threats? It all made sense. If anything, it made me want to leave this god-awful room even more now, if that were even possible. He would kill me the moment I stepped out of line, even by a hair. And I didn't want to know what the other men were capable of.

I am speechless as I look back and forth between the four of them. This was unbelievable. These men were cool and calm and collected about everything that transpired. They were joking about me and my right to life!

With a deep breath, I am able to pull myself together and with the utmost confidence I tilt my head up and say in the steadiest voice I can muster, "I don't care who or what you are. Human trafficking is illegal. I will report this to the police and you will all be sent to jail."

Eisuke looks me dead in the eye as I finish, as if to challenge me. Do your worst, I say to myself. "Soryu," He says glancing over at the mobster. "You see a cop anywhere?"

"Yeah," he replies pointing to the window. "Right over there." His gaze turns to a worn-out looking man standing by the window lighting a cigarette. I immediately cover my nose to avoid the smoke.

"Damn it," the man says blowing out a puff. "Don't just blow my cover like that."

Kisaki wanders over and gives the cop a shove. "Better now that later. Right Mr. Detective?" He attempts to reach and pull at the cop's cheeks but before he can, the cop brushes Kisaki off, shaking his head.

"Grow up kid, will ya?"

"There you go again," Kisaki pouts. "Always acting like you are the only adult around here." At this point in time, I believe it. They all seem like children to me.

Still covering my nose and mouth, I try to squeeze the words out. "You're a detective? Like, a real, live detective?"

He notices my hand and stubbs the cigarette into the ashtray on the table next to him without a second thought. "As opposed to a dead, fake detective? Yeah, well."

I couldn't believe it. Even the police were in on this stupid shenanigan? Just how far down the rabbit hole did I fall? Oh mom, I wish you were here. You'd know what to do.

Ota turns to me, a look of dissatisfaction painting his features. "Doesn't look like we will reach a decision any time soon."

"No," Eisuke says flatly. "It appears not." He gives me a quick look up and down and frowns.

I raise one of my eyebrows in response. "You got a problem?"

His eyebrows perk up just slightly, and I can see it in his face that I have peaked his interest, even just slightly. A small smirk forms into his lips. "Sorry boys," He says lowly. "I think this one is mine."

Another lump forms into my throat as I realize what just happened. This asshole was the one who maybe just saved my life, and to a certain extent, I could appreciate that. On the other hand, this asshole has now, single-handedly, just ruined my life. And for that, I hate his guts. How could this day get any worse?

"No. Absolutely not. No way in Hell." I say backing up towards the door. Don't you fucking touch me."

my words don't phase him and without warning Eisuke crouches down, picks me up and lifts me over his shoulder. There are a set of stairs going up to the back of the penthouse and my mind races as I try to think of ways I can escape from his clutch. Bite his ear? Punch his arms? Kick his torso? I squirm but that only makes Eisuke tighten his grip even more. He begins to climb them and I squirm even harder, kicking the air.

"You put me down this instant!"

"Shut up." He mutters, climbing the stairs.

"I swear to fucking God, I will fight you."

"I'd like to see you try."

I hear from behind me, Ota chuckling to himself. I'm not entirely sure what he said but I could only pick out four words and they made my skin crawl. "You're so impatient, Eisuke."

"As usual," Baba's voice begins to fade the higher we go. "Boss steals all the good stuff for himself. He always takes the sweetest part of the watermelon too."

The metaphor couldn't any more clearer to me and I was disgusted. This was all some joke to them. I was just some girl who had tits and an ass, and they were going to use and abuse me however they saw fit. I started to scream. I was not going to let this happen to me. Not now, and not ever.

The two men continued to talk down below even as I continued to scream every profanity I knew at Eisuke. "I think he might have a thing for her." Ota chuckles were only barely audible at this point.

Eisuke stops at the top of the stairs and looked down, a smug look in his eyes. Out of the corner of mine, I saw him give me one glance before taking his hand and covering my mouth with it. I bit down as hard as I could on his finger, and even though he winced, he didn't let me go.

"Do you play with a toy until it breaks?" He calls down to the men.

Ota shrugged. "If it is a toy I really like, I take very good care of it so that it doesn't break."

Eisuke took his hand away from my mouth and wiped off the saliva and blood onto his pant leg. "This is the same thing."

"I am not your fucking toy!" I yell at him. "Put me down!"

Baba points to me, a gentle smile plastered on his lips. I don't know whether it was his attempt to comfort me or insult me. "The lady isn't a doll you know. You shouldn't break her."

Eisuke takes my chin in his hand and shakes me a little. The longer I was with this man, the more and more I began to hate him. I needed to find the manager and report what happened. Hopefully the police would be here by midnight and I could go back to my old life. Not without kicking each man in the balls of course.

Still shaking my head, Eisuke laughs. "I bought her Baba. I can decide whether or not to break her." A sick grin begins to form on his face and my eyes go wide. Oh dear god, no.

I say, as clear as possible, emphasizing every word, every letter. "I. Am. Not. Your. Toy."

He tilts his head and drops his hand to look at me slightly. "Did you forget what I just said little girl? Do not speak without my permission." He bids a farewell to the men still looking up at me with grins plastered on their lips, and walks down a short hallway and into a dark room.

The last thing I here before Eisuke closes the door is Soryu's voice. It's quiet and I am not sure who he is talking to. But I am able to make out one brief sentence before I here the click of a lock and if my heart could be any more broken, this was it. It went something like this, "Once Eisuke has made up his mind," He said. "he doesn't budge."

I hear the lights flicker on and before me is a gigantic bedroom, far bigger than any one I had ever seen before. Eisuke immediately heads straight for the bed lined against the back wall, with me still slung over his broad shoulders. The bed is big enough to fit several people comfortably. I could only imagine why someone would want a bed as big as this. A cashmere blanket is placed carefully on top of the snow white duvet. A gold tile back spread makes the room feel even bigger than it already is and I am slightly mesmerized the way they tiny squares sparkle with the lights of the city down below. This mesmerization quickly disappears as Eisuke's grip on me shifts and I am brought back into reality.

He stops at the foot of the bed and I feel my body swing forward as he tosses me onto the bed. The landing takes me by surprise, and I am short of breath because of it.

I cough, clutching at me head. "What is wrong with you!?"

He smirks, looking down at me with amusement. "A lot." His voice doesn't have even a hint of warmth to it. Not that I expected one to be there. He was a piece of work let me tell you. He was the man that I swore vengeance against the moment he touched me.

"I'll tell you the rules for being with me." He begins and I scoff at him, not caring that I am breaking his little 'no talk' rule. "Do not talk back to me under any circumstances." Oops, broke that one already. Sucker. "Two. You may answer my questions with either 'yes' or 'okay.'"

"Those are the same thing dumbass."

"What did I just say?"

"You don't scare me."

His eyebrows raise with intrigue and surprise at my comment. Leaning forward, he places his left foot on the bed, mere inches away from my body. Crouching down, he grabs my chin and pulls my face towards his. My eyes narrow as he does this and I am about to smack his head before his other hand reaches out and grabs my wrist. His hold is so tight that I wince, showing weakness.

This time, his eyes are dark and cold. "Look here little girl. I bought you. Got it? I can do whatever I want with you." His breath is hot against my nose. His face is so close to mine that I am able to individually count his eyelashes. They are long and dark, similar to his hair.

"If you understand all of this, then undress. Right now." His voice is demanding and the smile on his lips makes my skin crawl.

. . . And into the fire.