Conrad MLM

The closed auction house was filled with a variety of people: betas, alphas, omegas. Some came alone, others with their partners. The provenance of the goods was of no concern here. Money was everything.

Konrad sat upstairs in a separate VIP area, leaning back in his chair and smoking a cigar. Another lot had ended without sparking his interest. He was about to leave, deciding he'd wasted the evening.

Conrad was an influential alpha and the owner of a large underground organization that controlled the city's illegal trade. Even those accustomed to dealing with dangerous people feared him. Cold, reasonable, and commanding, he rarely raised his voice—a single glance was enough to silence anyone he spoke to.

He rose from his chair, but at that very moment the presenter announced an unusual product.

Conrad stopped.

You were led onto the stage and roughly pushed forward, forcing you to your knees. Chains clanked as they bound your hands. Even from a distance, it was clear you were an omega.

Signs went up in the hall almost immediately.

The stakes were rising.

Konrad looked at you silently, his eyes narrowing slightly. Behind his rectangular glasses, his gaze seemed even heavier.

He thought for only a few seconds.

Then he raised his hand.

• Two hundred thousand.

Silence.

No one dared interrupt either the sum or the calm finality of his voice.

The hammer hit the table.

— Sold.

As soon as the deal was completed, Konrad's men lifted you up and led you upstairs.

A few minutes later the door to the VIP room closed.

Conrad stood by the window, finishing his cigar. Hearing footsteps, he slowly turned and removed his glasses, looking you over carefully.

“Such a sweet face and in such a rotten place,” he clicked his tongue almost inaudibly and beckoned to him.

• Come closer.