{"id":252284,"date":"2026-07-13T01:55:59","date_gmt":"2026-07-12T22:55:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/auctioned-to-the-bratva-daddy-ava-r-reign\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T01:55:59","modified_gmt":"2026-07-12T22:55:59","slug":"auctioned-to-the-bratva-daddy-ava-r-reign","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/auctioned-to-the-bratva-daddy-ava-r-reign\/","title":{"rendered":"Auctioned To The Bratva Daddy – Ava R Reign"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"<\/figure>\n

“You’ve been stalking me?” “Caring, not stalking.” He corrected. “Since the night of the auc- tion, I’ve had my eye on you.” “You…” Something clicked. “You were the final bidder?” “No,” he admitted frankly. “I meant to buy you and set you free, but some mystery buyer outbid me.” Not him? Then who the hell spent ten million on me?<\/p>\n

Questions for later. I stared at Lachlan, waiting for his real angle. “I know you want out of New York,” he glanced toward the caf\u00e9 entrance, “but Santoro’s men are everywhere. The way things are now…” “You here to twist the knife?” “No. I genuinely want to help.” “Why?” “Because you deserve better, Anna. I admire your work. I know your talent. You shouldn’t let gossip destroy you. Shouldn’t give up everything for a man who doesn’t know what he’s got.” My throat tightened, but I stayed guarded.<\/p>\n

“What’s it cost me?” “Simple. Give me a shot. I’m not asking you to fall for me right now\u2014just let me try to win you over.” I searched his eyes for lies or ulterior motives. Found only sincerity. “Clock’s ticking, Miss Ashworth.” He checked his watch. “Gate closes in five minutes, and they’re heading this way.” I bit my lip. Thought fast. “Fine,” I said finally. “Get me out.” Lachlan smiled. “Smart choice.” He extended his hand. “Come with me.”<\/p>\n

I barely touched his fingers. He grabbed one of my bags and took my wrist, leading me through a door marked “Staff Only.” The narrow concrete corridor felt like another world from the polished terminal. “Where are we?” “Employee passage. Leads to cargo.” He didn’t look back. “Greased the right palms. Santoro’s guys won’t find us.” We passed several doors.<\/p>\n

Workers nodded at Lachlan. Minutes later, we reached the cargo exit where a black sedan waited. “Get in.” After loading my bags, he helped me into the back seat. The car pulled away from the terminal. Through the rear window, I watched those black-suited men still searching, completely oblivious. “We’re going to another terminal,” Lachlan explained beside me. “Hayes family private jet.” Twenty minutes later, we stopped at a small hangar.<\/p>\n

A silver-gray private plane sat on the tarmac, the Hayes family crest on its fuse- lage. A flight attendant waited respectfully at the stairs. “Mr. Hayes, we’re ready.” “Miss Anna, please.” He offered his hand. I didn’t take it. He didn’t seem to mind.<\/p>\n

\n

I stood in that cramped ten-by-ten changing room, fingers frozen on my shirt buttons. Harsh fluorescent light washed me out even paler than usual. In the mirror\u2014twenty-one years old, dishwater blonde hair tangled, ice-blue eyes screaming terror. “Move it.” The middle-aged woman’s patience was gone. “I’ve got three more girls waiting.” I shut my eyes. Breathed deep. Brushes, paint, canvas\u2014I repeat- ed the words like a prayer, trying to claw my way back to some- where safe.<\/p>\n

But this morning played on loop like a horror film I couldn’t stop. BAM! BAM! BAM! “Open up! I know you’re in there, bitch!” The doorframe shrieked under each hit. I’d pressed myself against it, paintbrush shaking in my hand, blue paint dripping to the floor like tears. “Think hiding’s gonna make this go away? Your old man owes one hundred and fifty grand with interest!”<\/p>\n

One hundred and fifty thousand. The number sat on my chest like a cinder block. Dad’s mess. All mine now that he’d vanished. CRACK\u2014 The lock gave. My heart damn near stopped. Five guys burst in. The one in front wore a cheap suit over a body built like a meat lock- er, yellow teeth flashing when he smiled.<\/p>\n

“Playing hide and seek, sweetheart?” He ripped the brush from my hand, snapped it in half, and tossed it. “This piece of shit? You could paint till you’re dead and never clear what’s owed.” Two guys grabbed my shoulders. The leader moved in close\u2014 cigarettes and drugstore cologne made my stomach turn. He looked me up and down, grinning in a way that made my skin crawl. “Relax. Don’t want to scare our pretty girl.” Jack Weber, collector of debts and destroyer of lives. “About that money\u2014I’m giving you two options.”<\/p>\n

Two fingers up. “One: you come with me. Debt’s wiped clean. I’ll set you up in a Manhattan apartment.” I bit my lip hard. Everyone in Queens knew about Jack. What he did to women. The last girl who went with him turned up three months later, bones and cigarette burns. “Two.”<\/p>\n

His grin got worse. “Paradise Club’s running an auction tonight. Rich guys eat up your type. Sell well, debt’s paid.” Two roads. Both dead ends. But I had to pick one. “I’ll… take the second.” The words barely made it past my chatter- ing teeth. Jack shrugged. “Shame. Someone’ll pick you up at eight. Don’t even think about running.” He crossed to my paintings stacked in the corner.<\/p>\n

Picked up the one I’d spent three months on\u2014Central Park in autumn, golden leaves catching light.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

\n
\n

Table of Contents<\/p>\nToggle<\/span><\/path><\/svg><\/svg><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/a><\/span><\/div>\n