Chapter 7

She was blindfolded with a piece of lace, which was white because that was what the auction was about—her virginity. With Sofia's help, she was able to undress, and a white veil was placed over her head. It did not cover her nudity but added a touch of mystery and sensuality.

While Sofia perfumed her body and applied revitalizing cream to give her skin a dazzling glow under the spotlight, Carlos handed over Camila's documents, including the certificate proving the quality of the product and the report Sofia had prepared.

Each doll had a report, whether they knew it or not. This was a small but meticulous report of their life, family, friends, and the circles they frequented. Not only did they have to be virgins, but they also had to have an impeccable reputation. All the dolls were dedicated students, professionals, lawyers, or doctors. However, due to one circumstance or another, they needed the power offered by "The Game." It could be for money, like Camila, for a promotion, or there was also the one who offered her body just to take revenge on someone else, using that power to make miserable the one who had betrayed her trust.

The reports would be delivered once the purchase was made, and the information on Camila had not been difficult to investigate. With a few bills, Sofia acquired her academic file and much more information that gave her access to her entire life. With that, her buyer could do whatever he wished if something got out of hand. Of course, all to protect himself and the game.

While that was happening backstage, on the other side of the theater was Julian Cazares. The place was full; everyone was wearing masks of eccentric animals—foxes, elephants, cats, dogs, mice, and much more. It was incredible, the number of depraved men and women looking for entertainment. But the worst of all was the one who had on the black fox mask, and that man who had the imagination to combine that mask with a tuxedo was Julian.

Everyone who knew Julian knew that he could not be challenged anywhere, neither in the game nor out there where he pretended to be a good politician. He was an intelligent man and, above all, implacable when it came to revenge. Everyone who had challenged him had disappeared. It was said that for Julian, death was an act of compassion that those who had the audacity to face him did not deserve. A slow and especially painful torture was what awaited his opponents. However, it was only a rumor of which nothing had been proven because Julian's people were especially devoted to him, and it was better to tear out their tongues rather than betray him. Although there was one person who had confronted Julian without any consequence, and that person was Francisco Ramirez.

Francisco Ramirez had been the master of the Game before Julian arrived to take his place. Not only that, but Julian had also taken away the position Francisco had fought so hard for. Julian was more attractive, younger, and smarter—everything Francisco was no longer. That's why he hated him and faced him without any fear. Unfortunately for Francisco, Julian did not consider him a worthy opponent. To Julian, Francisco was like a piece of gum stuck to his shoe that he could remove at any time. After all, that was his place—under Julian.

"It seems everyone is here," expressed Roberto, his partner and only friend, as he took a seat next to him in his private box. Roberto wore a mouse mask; it was stupid, but Roberto liked to wear it when they came to meet at the game just to annoy him.

"This bland game is not worth my time," Julian complained. A virgin woman did not interest him at all, but he was there for the bet.

"You can leave if you want to," his bold friend urged.

"You wish."

Francisco Ramirez had been the master of the Game before Julian arrived to take his place. Not only that, but Julian had also taken away the position Francisco had fought so hard for. Julian was more attractive, younger, and smarter—everything Francisco was no longer. That's why he hated him and faced him without any fear. Unfortunately for Francisco, Julian did not consider him a worthy opponent. To Julian, Francisco was like a piece of gum stuck to his shoe that he could remove at any time. After all, that was his place—under Julian.

"It seems everyone is here," expressed Roberto, his partner and only friend, as he took a seat next to him in his private box. Roberto wore a mouse mask; it was stupid, but Roberto liked to wear it when they came to meet at the game just to annoy him.

"This bland game is not worth my time," Julian complained. A virgin woman did not interest him at all, but he was there for the bet.

"You can leave if you want to," his bold friend urged.

"You wish."

Roberto looked around. Although everyone wore a mask, he knew the identities of some people. After all, some people, even if they covered their faces, were easily recognizable. He looked in all directions until he finally found someone he could use to annoy his partner.

"But look what we have here," he said, feigning astonishment. Below them was a group of men around a table, and among those men, one in particular contrasted; he could recognize Francisco's lion mask. "It seems that Ramirez is also thinking of buying something tonight."

"And should I care because..." Julian questioned.

"You are right."

Julian certainly wasn't interested in that guy, but he knew that every chance he got, Francisco used every opportunity to ruin his plans. Francisco was a thorn in his side who always wanted what Julian had. He would have gotten rid of him a long time ago if it weren't for the fact that he enjoyed humiliating him—not only in public but also in private. Julian considered Francisco his clown.

From one moment to another, the lights turned red, announcing the beginning of the game. The audience applauded once the curtain opened, and the spotlight pointed to a slender, tall, dark-haired woman wearing an elegant black dress with beautiful sparkles on the fabric. She was the hostess of that female show and, of course, the boss of Sofia and all the representatives of every new doll in the game. She could be the most powerful woman in all of Mexico, but certainly, no one would admit it.

The name by which everyone knew her was Miranda, and since the only time she could be the center of attention was under the spotlight of the game, she enjoyed every step she took and every look that fell upon her, especially the eyes of the one stallion she was not supposed to tame—Julian. He was her forbidden apple, and so she strove to please him. She did not want to be the object of his games; she wanted to be his mistress.

"Players," announced Miranda with great excitement, "once again the doors of this game have opened for you, just as the legs of our dolls will open for you."

Everyone laughed at her unfunny joke, but they had to do it out of courtesy at least because it would give them what they had come for—a woman, and not only that, a virgin.

"Tonight is special because we have brought for you the best of the market," She whispered in a seductive tone, "and I know very well how much you want it."

The curtain opened wide enough to allow a woman to pass through—the first doll to be auctioned, much like Camila. This woman participated willingly, and, of course, to take revenge on a woman who had robbed her of the opportunity to be happy. She knew that the game would offer her everything she wanted in exchange for the minimum price of her virginity.

A masked employee approached her and led her slowly down the catwalk. She was blindfolded and could not walk without help; someone had to be her eyes. Her walk was slow as Miranda announced her physical attributes. Once she finished her walk, she was placed in the center of the stage to begin the bet.

"The initial bid price will start at fifty gold centenarians," said Miranda.

Since many of those who attended the game were corrupt men and women, the owner of the game and Miranda's boss had to secure the winnings with remunerations that did not link him to his shady business, and the only way was the gold centennials, the most expensive monetary unit that Mexico had.

"Fifty-five," they raised their voices at one of the tables closest to the stage.

Julian twisted his lips; he thought that a virgin was not worth that much money. It was more than two million pesos. He could get a year of sadistic sex for much less than that amount, but the joke of the game was not only to spend money for sex. The objective of the game was to show how powerful you are, and if he thought about showing how much power he had, fifty-five gold centennials should be nothing.

"Sixty," Julian said loudly and clearly for everyone to hear.

"Eighty," said a familiar voice; it was none other than Francisco, his only rival. Just as he had deduced, that man would not miss the opportunity to ruin his night. But as always, Julian had an ace up his sleeve.

"A hundred," said Julian, settling back in his seat, the showdown promising to entertain him more than the auction.

"One hundred and twenty," said Francisco, looking at where Julian was. He didn't want to lose to him either.

"One hundred and fifty," Julian continued, hoping that Francisco would fall into his trap.

"Two hundred," Francisco bet, proud of himself. No one had ever bet so much on the first doll of any other game.

Julian kept silent; it was just what he wanted Francisco to do—to compete with him and spend more than the girl was worth to get him off his back. Two hundred gold centenarians were more than ten million Mexican pesos.

The public and everyone who knew Francisco applauded his audacity; the amount was impressive. But the public was also waiting to see what amount Julian would dare to spend for his pleasure; he could not be left behind. Miranda smiled even more at the result of the first sale. She did not expect them to spend so much on a woman as unsavory as the one that had just passed. She looked too serious for anyone's taste, but Julian, as always, made anything become a jewel.

The sales continued, and one by one, the dolls were bought for less than the first girl. It was disappointing, but Miranda also had her tricks to make a simple stone into a beauty. Her trick was to exaggerate any attribute and then compare it to some other famous doll, and so she did. However, the next and last doll was Camila.

Julian had reserved himself for that last moment when few were left in contention to buy a doll, and he could spend as much as he wished for that last virgin.

"The starting price is fifty centenaries, not one less, gentlemen. Now offer all you have because it is our last product."

"Sixty," they shouted near Julian.

"Eighty."

"Hundred."

And then there was silence. Julian didn't expect the bids to stop there, but he guessed that no one wanted to spend as much money as Francisco had.

He wanted to show Francisco that he could spend more than that, but to offer more would be unconscionable on his part.

"Two hundred and fifty," Francisco's voice was heard again in the room. Everyone turned to him, even Julian. He could not believe that he had dared to bet against him.

"Thirteen hundred," Julian continued, definitely not going to beat him this time.

"Three hundred and twenty."

The fact that Francisco decreased the amount he had been betting gave Julian hope of glory, but he still couldn't claim victory.

"Three hundred and fifty."

There was silence; it seemed that Julian had won after all. But Miranda decided that this was not the price the girl was worth.

"Since she's our last product, I'd like everyone to know her face and how beautiful she is, and how much she's really worth."

Julian had reserved himself for that last moment when few were left in contention to buy a doll, and he could spend as much as he wished for that last virgin.

"The starting price is fifty centenaries, not one less, gentlemen. Now offer all you have because it is our last product."

"Sixty," they shouted near Julian.

"Eighty."

"Hundred."

And then there was silence. Julian didn't expect the bids to stop there, but he guessed that no one wanted to spend as much money as Francisco had.

He wanted to show Francisco that he could spend more than that, but to offer more would be unconscionable on his part.

"Two hundred and fifty," Francisco's voice was heard again in the room. Everyone turned to him, even Julian. He could not believe that he had dared to bet against him.