Contracted Marriage: Cold Earl's Obsession

Chapter Four: Where Rich Men Buy Sins

The invitation was written in invisible ink.

Only visible under candlelight. Only given to the truly depraved.

The Underground Auction—a secret gathering held once every few years beneath the façade of London’s finest opera house. Ciel had been tracking whispers of it for weeks. Now, with the Order of the Silver Thorn reemerging, it was more than curiosity. It was war.

And he was bringing a date.

~Inside the Carriage~

Eloise adjusted the hem of her dress—a stunning black-and-silver ensemble with a slit high enough to scandalize at least three noblewomen.

“This isn’t a ball,” she said. “You’re bringing me to a place where people are literally bought and sold.”

“It’s not people tonight,” Ciel said quietly. “It’s secrets. And I need you to play the part.”

“And what part is that?”

He looked her over. “The distraction.”

...

She scoffed. “You could’ve just called me pretty.”

“I’m not here to flatter you.”

“No,” she said, lips curling. “But you’re staring like you want to.”

He looked away.

Sebastian, as always, grinned from the shadows.

~The Auction Entrance – 12:03 A.M.~

Behind the opera house, a hidden staircase led down into the earth, lit only by flickering gas lamps. Velvet curtains and masked guards. Laughter that didn’t sound quite human.

Ciel and Eloise entered together—him in a raven-black coat, her wrapped in diamonds like armor.

Inside, noblemen whispered. Merchants bowed. One man tried to kiss Eloise’s hand.

She nearly broke his fingers.

They were led to a private box above the auction floor. Below, strange artifacts sat under glass: blood-stained manuscripts, arcane trinkets, and—

“Look,” Eloise said suddenly. “Table five.”

Ciel narrowed his eyes.

There, seated among the aristocracy, was a man wearing a silver ring shaped like a thorn.

...

A mark of the cult.

~Mid-Auction – Chaos Unleashed~

The lights dimmed. The final item was revealed beneath a silk cloth.

The host grinned. “And now, our final offering—direct from the vaults of the old Order.”

He whipped back the cloth.

...

Underneath was a crimson-stained mask. Ornate. Familiar.

Ciel’s blood turned to ice.

“That… that belonged to the man who led the ritual. The night my parents died.”

Eloise’s hand shot to her chest. “Ciel—”

But she never finished.

Because suddenly, all the lights went out.

And the screaming began.

~Underground Tunnel – Minutes Later~

Sebastian had thrown them both over his shoulders and bolted the moment the explosion began. Dust rained from the ceiling. Ciel coughed, one hand still clutching a fragment of the cursed mask.

....

Eloise wiped blood from her temple. “Who the hell brings bombs to an auction?!”

“Someone who wants to erase evidence,” Ciel growled.

From deeper in the tunnel, footsteps echoed.

And then—a gunshot.

Eloise pushed Ciel down just in time, the bullet slicing through her sleeve. She rolled, yanked one of the daggers hidden in her garter, and swings it back with precision.

...

The shooter screamed and fell.

“Where the hell did you learn do that?” Ciel gasped.

“My governess was Swiss.”

Sebastian returned, dusting his gloves. “Our assassin has no tongue. Cult loyalist. And this was meant for you, young master.”

He held up a card.

> “Your blood opened the gate. Only your death will close it.”

~Back at Phantomhive Manor – Hours Later~

Ciel sat in front of the hearth, mask shard in his palm.

Eloise appeared beside him, still in the ruined gown. She dropped into the chair opposite.

“So,” she said. “Secret cults, cursed masks, exploding auctions. You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

He smirked. “I like to keep things lively.”