by Katy Rose
“I don’t plan to kill “all those guys” Kora,” using air quotes I emphasize her words. “I plan on torturing them and then killing them one by one until I get to the top. Then I will see where we go from there. However, death parties could be a thing.”
“Who did you invite to the dinner party?” She asks. Since she has not hounded me on it, I rattle off the names of the men and woman invited.
“I invited Marcus, Logan, and three others out of the black book. I also invited a woman named Sequin. She seems to have purchased large quantities of the irresistible drug on four separate occasions. I want you to look her up by her email address listed in the book. From there, I will know what to serve her.”
Kora pulls out her laptop and does a reverse search on the email address I had for that Sequin woman. It seems her real name is Connie Sanderson. She is a manager at a golf club and spa outside the city. Finding her house on Google maps shows us she lives in a decent area. It looks like a middle-class suburb. Something is nagging me about the area. And about her face. I recognize her or something. Memories from our childhood come and go through my mind. No, we grew up in California, where the old man is.
It takes a little longer for Kora to get around the bank firewall, but when she does, we see a whole new side to this, Ms. Sanders. It seems her bank account is loaded. A recent withdrawal of ten thousand was made four days ago. I keep scanning through transactions until I come to a child dress store. Seventeen thousand dollars to a dress store? Hm. Maybe they were all upscale clothing. But something doesn’t feel right. She doesn’t make weekly deposits or biweekly deposits that would be consistent with a paycheck. But there are huge deposits. Almost like clockwork toward the second and eighteenth of each month, there is a deposit of close to seventy thousand dollars. Consider my interest piqued.
“We only have three days until your dinner party. What do you plan to do in the meantime?” Kora asks. I squint in thought as I watch my tiny sister devour Bruschetta like a starving lion.
“You keep sucking that food down that fast, and you will choke. It is paid for, calm down. As far as my plans go, would you like to take a little road trip?” I watch as she sputters out a laugh and then makes a show of shoving the rest of the bread in her mouth.
“You are going to see about that golf club, aren’t you? The one that that Connie woman works at?” She asks.
“What is this, twenty questions? Get your tote. I will grab the kill bag and meet you at the car. We are going on a stakeout.” Not giving her any other answers, I head to my room to change into a dark-colored dress shirt and slacks. Just because I am going to stalk a stranger and possibly kidnap her doesn’t mean I can’t look presentable. My blonde hair needs a good trim and some clean edges but overall not bad. Your prey is more likely not to run if you don’t look like a predator. Damn, I should teach a class on this shit.
Grabbing the black duffle bag, I walk down the hallway to the library. The gas fireplace takes five minutes to be at full flame. While I wait, I empty the black duffle onto the floor. Repacking the stun gun, brass knuckles, hunting knives, and bleach. I add in some fresh rags and a sanitized ball gag. Lastly, I take the blood-soaked rope from Donovan and throw it into the fire. Including my black dress shirt and some of the bleach rags from the last two crime scenes. We made sure there is no traceable evidence that could lead back to us.
“I don’t know how I feel about red hair.” Kora rounds the corner in a black tea-length dress and a red wig.
“A dress?” I ask while chuckling.
“Yes, well, what if we go to the country club. I have to look inconspicuous. Plus, I have leggings on under it.” She lifts the hem and makes a kicking motion.
Chuckling as I stand up and hoist the bag onto my shoulder. “Nice. Karate in Donna Karen? It could be all the new rage.”
An hour later, we pull up outside the country club in Pelham, New York. It looks like a nice place, but looks are often deceiving, right? We made the right decision by dressing up. They seem to be holding an event. Walking to the side door, we knock on the window, and one of the kitchen staff who happens to go to the university on scholarship lets us in.
“Look at who is here. Volpe and baby Volpe. Do you both have tickets?” He asks. At our blank looks, he presents us with tickets from a side counter. “Here. You two aren’t the typical buyers, though. Usually, Connie has a strict policy on new people. So, if you get caught, you don’t know me, and I don’t know you.”
“What are we possibly buying?” I ask out of curiosity. He looks around nervously before shaking his head.
He leans in really close to us. “Dude, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It is fucking disgusting. The first time I was here, I threw up all over the place downstairs.”
“If it is so horrendous, why Do you keep coming back?” Kora inquires while looking at the ticket. I looked down and read that it is a children’s auction for charity. Not much information is on there other than that.
His face goes stone still, and a mask of equal parts jealous and indifference slides into place. “Some of us didn’t grow up with the silver spoon in our mouths. Some of us have to do what we can to survive and go to school.”
“Ah. Well, it was lovely chatting, but we will be going now. Which way to the party?” He points through the doors, and we walk in. There are people milling about. Upon closer inspection, however, they are mostly older men. Some younger men are around as well, but very few women. They are all dressed in Oscar-worthy gowns and tuxedos. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that we stumbled into a charity gala, but something isn’t sitting right in my gut. Latching onto Kora, I never take my hand from her neck. If someone so much as looks at her wrong I will rip them apart. A nasty slimy feeling makes its way up my spine. I think I read that ticket wrong.
Right then, the woman named Caroline takes the stage and makes a hand motion. Men in black tactile gear come around the room checking tickets and locking doors. Large objects covered in shiny red covers are spaced out behind tables. There are picture displays on each table.
“Welcome to this month’s children auction. Many of you are old pros, but I do see some new faces in the crowd. Please feel free to make bids on any of the children or girls you want. We have imported this month from Brazil and Cancun as well as a special girl from Columbia. You have one hour to make your rounds and place your bids. We will Talley the silent bids and announce the winners in ninety minutes. Thank you, and have a great night!”
All at once the red silken covers were pulled back to reveal probably one of my worst nightmares. Children. Mostly girls and between the ages of seven and seventeen. They were barely dressed, and you could tell they were drugged — a small blonde girl who looked no more than nine caught my attention. I casually walked my way over there, making a show of holding onto Kora by her neck. “Come, love, wouldn’t you want a sister? How cute she is.” Leaning in, I whisper “play along.” Against Kora’s hair.
Her nod is minuscule, a slight movement felt by my fingers. We walk around the tables and look in all the cages. After the fourth, my stomach turns, and I feel sick. I look at the silent auction bids and notice most of the bids are between one and three thousand dollars. Making our way over to the little blonde girl I read the “contract for ownership” Her name is Natalia, and she has not yet been trained in all services. I feel Kora's hand tighten on mine and I look over at her. Silently I mouth to her “no tears.” I watch as she composes herself, and I look down at the current bids. I write down for twenty-five thousand. That surpasses every bid by quite a large margin.
Noticing yet another girl, this one around seventeen, I see her bid sheet is nearly empty. At the same moment, as I go to write a bid down, Connie approaches us. “Good evening, Mr…. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t. But I am Mr. Volpe. And you are Ms. Connie Sanders, correct?” I put on a charming smile as I cross my arm in front of Kora simultaneously moving her behind me. Conni
e preens under my attention, and I see her mouth salivate at the name.
“Actually, it is Mrs. Elliot now. My husband is a professor at NYU. I see you have placed a few bids, Mr. Volpe. Quite the age difference isn’t there?” She watches me for any sign of weakness. Sorry lady you won’t find any. I may be disgusted beyond belief, but I won’t show how much this is getting to me.
“One would be personal use and the other a house servant.” A perverse smile creeps across my face as the words fall like acid from my tongue — personal use, disgusting.
“Wonderful, please let us know if you like anymore or want different views. A lot of the product has been tranquilized to keep them from causing a scene. Though, not to worry each goes home with enough medication that you should be able to handle them until trained properly in your own way. Such a shame more men do not see the value in older slaves. She has been trained thoroughly in all areas, to provide for your enjoyment. Have a good evening.”
“You as well, Mrs. Elliot.” Taking her hand, I brush my lips on the back of it lightly. The touch makes me want to vomit, but one must do what one must — turning my attention back to the cages, I make my way around the room careful to look like I am enjoying my time. I check the clipboards one final time right as they are being taken away. I have the top bid for both girls.
Thirty minutes later, Mrs. Elliot takes the microphone in front of the room. Tapping the microphone a few times, she gets the audience’s attention. She smiles like she won the lottery, and I am sure she has in away. I’m not sure how much money she is making tonight, but I am sure it is quite a lot more than the professor’s salary. “Gentlemen, and ladies, it is time to announce our winners of tonight’s stock. Without further ado, let's begin with girl number 154; the winning bid for her is Mr. Malcolm. Number 156, the winning bid is buyer Senator Claremore. Girl 158 the winning bid is buyer Mr. Volpe…”
Kora turns to look at me. I am Mr. Volpe, but I didn’t bid on 158. My bids were on 164 and 272. Looking around, I see his black hair with slight grey mixed, making his way up to the front. Alessio Volpe, the Defender Fox, also known to Kora and me as “Babbino.” He collects his tickets and looks around the room. Our eyes lock, and he nods to me. I instinctively nod back. After he gets done, he makes his way toward us. Kora inhaled sharply as Alessio comes within reach. They share an explosive and accusing look before both sets of eyes are directed toward me. Shrugging them both off I turn my attention back to the dais. Connie announces more names before calling out both of my bid numbers. Pulling Kora along, I make my way to the front table where they collect my money and give me the keys to the girl’s cages. I turn to find Alessio behind us, watching me carefully.
Heading over to the smallest cage first, Natalia. Unlocking the cage, I open the door for Kora. She steps in and pulls the little girl on her lap. Whispering quietly to her. Natalie seems to be more with it than she was earlier because her tiny wide eyes take in the room. Watching me, she nods to Kora and takes her hand. Once they are out of the cage, Natalia whimpers softly. I look to Kora and say in a regular voice. “Pick up the girl. We must go. I have more important matters to attend to.” Silently Kora does as I say.
The four of us head over to the other cage. The girl who is around fifteen looks me up and down before casting her eyes to the floor. “What is your name,” I ask in a detached voice.
“Dessa.” She answers softly but I can see the steel in her spine. She hates me. Loathes me and everything she thinks I stand for. That’s fine. She is going to need that nerve if she plans to survive the real world.
“Come,” I command. She obeys, walking out of the gilded cage and toward us. I do not touch her but instead, watch her carefully. “Keep up,” I state flatly. If she does, she gets her freedom; if she doesn’t, she can be taken by someone else. She must know this because she sticks to Kora’s side like glue. We make it to the Front entrance before Connie comes over with Professor Elliot in tow. Alessio is to my left.
“Have a great evening, Mr. Volpe, and younger Mr. Volpe. I was unaware you were partaking in our lifestyle.” Mr. Elliot says while shaking Alessio's hand.
“Well, unlike most, my son keeps his private life very tightly private. Don’t you Kaleb. Tell the professor and his wife, goodnight Kora. We must be off. I would like to collect my winnings as well. You may have them sent out to my car. Have a pleasant evening.” Turning my father doesn’t look back as he makes his way out to the parking lot. We follow along silently.
Just as his car is pulled up, he turns back toward us. “Follow me. Do not let me down, Kaleb.” Without waiting for a reply, he turns and gets in his car. Kora and I share a look. Don’t let him down? Okay.
I watch as Babbino's car is pulled forward and our car is pulled up for us. I try to place Natalia in the backseat, but in the end, she wants nothing to do with it. She clings tightly to me. What is left of the shriveled heart in my chest swells a tiny bit. Poor thing, she must be terrified. Memories began flooding my mind the second they took the cloths off the cages. I knew huge chunks of my childhood were missing. I had no idea why. Gathering Natalie closer to my chest, I slide in the backseat with Dessa sliding in behind me.
“Where is he going? “I wonder out loud. The queasiness in my stomach jumps several notches. Kaleb meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, and I can tell that he has no clue either. We are officially in uncharted territory. Even after all this time, Babbino is a mystery to us. I wonder why he was here and who he purchased. If he did so to help them or to use them. Babbino has always been a great father to Kaleb and me. He was strict and demanding yet fair. He also sent us to the best schools money could buy.
I watch as we drive deeper into the city. Passing by our little brownstone apartment and up to Amaroso's. A specialty bistro that caters to most of New York’s most elite Italian Americans. The best of the best come here — a place for people of the old country as well as the modern age Italians. Their Risotto is to die for. I feel like we may be a tad underdressed, but perhaps he knows something we don’t. Instead of pulling up to the valet station, we round the side of the building and go down to the underground parking garage.
Stepping out of the car, I hand Natalia off to Kaleb and then turn to Babbino. Smiling, he hugs me close before placing a finger to his mouth and opening the door to the right. We all enter into what appears to be an office. There are books on the shelves, two sofas facing each other separated by a large coffee table, and a large oak desk sits directly in the line of sight. There are men seated all around, and some leaning back against walls. They look up at us as we take them in. It is apparent none of us knows what is going on.
“Gentlemen, I would like to introduce my original children. This is Kaleb and Kora Volpe. Kaleb, Kora, these gentlemen are the Consortium.” He motions around the room to the different men naming them off. Roger Styles, head CEO to Cell phone and communications network, Michael St. Thomas, the CEO to a travel and airline corporation. Kyle Lockhart, Rising star in Social Networking and Apps. All of these men had one thing in common; they were billionaires.
“What does the Consortium do exactly?” I ask. Babbino has to know we would be skeptical of everything, everyone. Even him. They are vigilante child kidnappers or what? Mafia Don with a heart of gold? Who knew there was such a thing? It is obviously a good enough secret because I didn’t.
“The Consortium was put together by me fifteen years ago to right the egregious wrongs that are being done around the world. My first project was buying children who were being sold off. I had acquired an invitation to a children’s gala, or so I thought. It was much like the one you went to tonight. There I purchased two platinum-blonde twins. I enrolled them in therapy, and the best schools money could buy. Since then, I have purchased and closed down over 500 petty human trafficking operations. These gentlemen were as appalled by this disgrace as I was and stepped in to assist where funds are needed.”
“Platinum blonde twins?” looking over I see my brother’s face turn ashen.
We were the first. “So, the nightmares, they weren’t simply nightmares, were they?”
Shaking his head, my Babbino walks to the desk and presses a switch next to a Tuscany style lamp. The painting behind his desk fades away to present nine screens. Each screen is a different monitor. Some are open to chat rooms; others are on news channels, two are CC tv cameras placed around the restaurant. There in the far bottom corner is a picture of our brownstone in New York. If he had cameras there, then he knows what we have done — my cheeks flame. I don’t care what many people think of me, but I will always care about Babbino and his opinion. He was the hero I prayed for in the darkest moments. I had all but given up that there was a God during that time.
“No, unfortunately, they were not Luce De Miei Occhi. When I came to this country, I thought I was coming to a better place, and in many ways, I was. However, as the money grew, so did the depravity I witnessed. People love to tell you yes when you have money. It isn’t so much fun when you can buy whatever you want; some people, bad people, look for fun in other ways. I was invited to the first child auction the night I bought you and your brother. I did my research and found that you were the bastard children of Mateo DelPrete, also known as “The Priest.” We have been rivals for many years, obviously, but as I had stumbled upon you two, a truce was struck. I have collected information on you both so that he might know you as you grew up and keep you away from our lifestyle.”
“Why would you want to keep us out of your life if you wanted us? Were we only a ploy for you to get your truce?” Kaleb asks with a voice as steely and sharp as a knife’s blade. He is teetering on the brink. I really hope Babbino clarifies himself. This is all so hard to believe, and yet it isn’t. He is always so quiet and secretive. When I was little, I thought he was Batman.
“Of course, I wanted you both. I didn’t find out who spawned you until later. Your biological father, he wanted you to have a choice how you ended up, if you chose our lifestyle or if you wanted to become regular civilians. It seems with your latest proclivities and shall we say extracurricular activities you have found your way here.”