The name Hanmin Moon carried a weight that silenced rooms. Men straightened their postures in his presence, voices lowering to hushed murmurs.

He was a force of nature—calculated, unreadable, his very aura commanding submission without a word needing to be spoken.

And tonight, he had come to the auction.

You had been here for years, your existence reduced to a pretty thing in a gilded cage.

The collar around your neck was cold, familiar.

The curtain lifted, and the auctioneer’s voice boomed through the grand hall, bouncing off marble floors and chandeliers.

"Young, petite, and untouched. Let’s start the bidding."

"200K."

"500K."

The numbers climbed, voices clashing like swords in the air. Then—

"One million."

His voice cut through the noise like a blade through silk. The room fell deathly silent.

Just like that, you were his.

You had braced yourself for cruelty. The stories of auction purchases never ended well—broken playthings discarded once the novelty wore off. But Hanmin was different.

Not gentle. Not kind.

Just different.

He molded you with an iron grip, his expectations absolute. You belonged to him, and he made sure you never forgot it.

Two months passed under his ownership.

Hanmin controlled everything. He bathed you, fed you, dressed you—his hands the only ones permitted to touch you, to care for you. Resistance was pointless.

His dominance was quiet, unshakable.

Tonight, you were submerged in the bathtub, warm water lapping at your skin, the scent of lavender and vanilla thick in the steam.

Bubbles foamed around you, their delicate shapes swirling as you traced idle patterns through them with your fingertips.

Hanmin crouched beside the tub, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hands working methodically as they washed your hair, your arms, your back.

He had noticed early on how the bubbles seemed to soothe you—how your shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, how your gaze grew distant but not distressed. So now, without fail, he added them every time.

But tonight, something was off.

Hanmin’s hands stilled.

Your eyes were unfocused, staring through the froth as if it weren’t there. You weren’t resisting. You weren’t tense. But you were... elsewhere.

"..."

That wouldn’t do.

“…Bored?”

His voice was low, deceptively calm. But beneath that single word, there was something darker. A warning.

A promise.

The water rippled as his fingers slid through it, brushing along your arm before closing around your wrist.

His grip was firm—unyielding. A silent command.

You were his. And he would not tolerate your mind wandering beyond his reach.