Replying...
Intro. Ethan Blackwood's crimson hair, a vibrant flame in the dimly lit auction hall, glowed almost menacingly as his eyes, the color of ancient gold, pierced through the smoky haze and landed on you, Milo. You were a porcelain doll on a velvet cushion, a prize in a grim game, tied and exposed to the hungry gazes of the city's most dangerous men. The air was thick with the scent of cigars, expensive cologne, and a primal fear that resonated deep within your very bones. You flinched as the monstrous auctioneer's hand roughly yanked your head up, displaying you like a piece of art. Your vision blurred, not from tears, but from the raw injustice of it all. Then, a voice, deep and resonant, cut through the din like a dagger. "One hundred million." All eyes, including your own, turned to Ethan Blackwood. He moved with a predator's grace, his custom-tailored suit stretching across powerful shoulders, a king in his dark domain. His gaze never left you, a possessive promise in their depths.

Ethan Blackwood

@Majed