by SR Jones
Do I? I honestly don’t think I do. I mean, I know I’m not unattractive. I have what Grandma once called a handsome face, and yes, I do have good bone structure. But I don’t have Maya’s amazing smile, or Violet’s strange and mesmerizing eyes, or Justina’s confidence and style. My body is gangly, and I’ve always felt dull in comparison to my glamorous friend. Maybe it is time for me to try to come out of my shell.
“Sexiness is all about attitude,” Justina says. “Own your beauty. Don’t give a shit that your tits are small. Who cares? You look like a fucking high-end fashion model. Most men should think themselves lucky if you even throw a glance their way.”
I giggle at her silly words, but maybe I’ll try to own even a tenth of the attitude she’s talking about because when I think about it, when it comes right down to it, a lot of what makes Justina so sexy is the way she carries and holds herself. What makes Andrius so scary isn’t his physicality; it’s how he inhabits it. The way he bleeds danger from every pore. I need to start believing I can be the kind of woman to get a man like Alesso, and deserve him too. And on my own terms, not purely on his.
**
The next night, and all my faux confidence that I’ve been carefully stoking has evaporated. I have to walk into a room full of vile, awful men and women who are there to bid on a girl as if she’s a Faberge Egg or a rare painting. I have to do this whilst being both beautiful and submissive. I have to stay in character, answer to Lacy, and remember the brief backstory Andrius gave me a couple of hours ago. Because if I don’t, if I fuck this up, we might all end up dead.
Today, I learned about Justina’s past. Or more of it. I already knew some from what she’d said, and bits I’d heard from Maya and Damen. But Alesso told me more of her story earlier, and it makes me ashamed to be so scared, when for her, this must be terrifying. She’s doing it, though, because she wants a hand in bringing these utter bastards down.
Alesso pokes his head around my bedroom door. “I’ll see you downstairs in an hour,” he says.
I’m at my dresser, wrapped in a towel, having had a shower.
“Last chance to back out. You don’t have to do this,” he says softly.
Part of me desperately wants to do as he says and simply change my mind. I can stay here with Violet, and we can watch something scary on Netflix and wait for the men to come home. I can’t, though. I need to see Simon’s partner brought down. To get closure.
I shake my head. “I’m good.”
“Okay.” He nods once. “Remember, you answer to Lacy. It’s difficult to do, and it’s often the thing that screws someone up when they’re playing a role like this. You’re Lacy. Say it over and over and over in your head while you’re getting ready. If someone other than me addresses you, you don’t answer them. You look to me and wait for permission to speak.”
Jesus. I swallow and nod. He’s not done, though.
“And when you talk to me, you call me Sir. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir.” I try to make a joke out of it, but my voice is odd, husky almost.
I glance at Alesso, and he’s wearing the strangest expression on his face. I can’t make out what it means, and he blinks, and it’s gone. “I’ll see you soon,” he says.
Sighing, I turn back to my reflection.
A knock on my open door has me turning, expecting to see Alesso with another order to snap at me, but instead I see Justina and Violet.
They both come in, and Justina has a huge bag in her hands. “This is my magic makeup bag,” she says. She points to Violet with her free hand. “I used it on this one here, and look at the results.” She gently taps Violet’s belly, and Violet laughs.
“Okay, then. Not sure I’m ready for a baby yet, but do your best, or your worst, and let us see if I can at least get Alesso to defrost enough to look at me directly.”
Justina does do her best. First, she helps me get the contacts in, and then she gives me strong eye makeup with a soft brown lip, that is deceptively seductive because she outlines just outside my already wide mouth, making it look bigger. She works magic on my cheeks, chin, and nose with brushes and powders, and then adds a finishing touch by highlighting my cheekbones and the middle of my chin and forehead with an iridescent shimmer.
I stare at myself in awe. I do look like the haughty top model she spoke about yesterday out by the pool. I wish I didn’t have these contacts in because I want Alesso to see me looking this good with my natural eyes, but they’re an essential part of the disguise. My hair she leaves natural, but she adds some golden shimmering gel to it, and it creates a soft halo around my forehead.
She then adds the shimmer to my upper arms.
“I don’t know what to wear,” I tell the women.
“The cream dress,” Justina says immediately. “The one we bought the other day in Corfu town.”
I bought a few things, but the cream dress had been stunning. Simple, but utterly gorgeous. It’s Grecian in style, a bit like the bridesmaid’s dress I wore for Maya’s wedding, but much simpler.
It drapes over my breasts, adding some size to them. Low cut at the front, it gives a hint of cleavage, and ties at my shoulders before also dipping down at the back. It gathers at my waist before falling again in a drape of heavy cream to mid-shin. I bought some rope sandals to go with it.
Justina helps me into it, and then she sets to work doing something else with the makeup around my cleavage. When I look in the mirror, I give a little gasp of surprise. I have a much deeper cleavage than usual, thanks to her handy skills with contouring.
I put a simple slave band bracelet on the tattoo-free arm, and a gold ring on my right hand.
Standing back, I admire my reflection. I have to say, I look nothing like my usual self. Even if, somehow Stuart has found out I shot Simon, he won’t recognize Lacy as Stella; I’m sure of it.
“Thank you.” I hug Justina, and then Violet.
“You’re not ready, Justina,” I say, looking at the clock by my bed.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m going with red lips and not much else, so it won’t take me too long. I’m off now. See you downstairs in fifteen minutes.” She blows me a kiss and saunters out the door.
“I’ll go keep her company while she gets ready. She must be feeling all sorts of jittery,” Violet says. She stops by the door. “Stella, if things go wrong, make Andrius leave with you, no matter what. Please? Remind him he’s going to be a father.”
I nod. Not sure what she expects me to do in order to make a man like Andrius do what I say, but I promise her I’ll try.
When both women are gone, I’m left alone, staring at a reflection I don’t recognize. My stomach churns with a mix of nervous terror and deep excitement. I’m about to go undercover with a group of foot soldiers for the mafia to take down a people trafficker. Me! I think of my grandfather, and for the first time, I don’t feel scared. I feel … superior. He’d never have the balls to do this; I know it for a fact. Maybe I’m nowhere near as pathetic as he thinks I am. In the future, if he starts with his bullying, I’m going to tell him to shut up.
I practice it in front of the mirror.
“Shut up,” I say. Then louder. “Shut up.”
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
I squeal and turn around with my hand on my heart to scowl at Alesso, leaning against the door.
My heart rate doesn’t slow down when I take him in; it speeds up. He looks incredible. He’s wearing a dark blue suit, and it makes his eyes pop. His hair looks darker than usual, as it is slicked back with wax. Dark stubble frames his sharp jaw perfectly.
I’ve never seen him look so devilishly handsome.
Not sure what to do with myself, I try to find my inner goddess as I turn away and take a necklace out of the top drawer on the dresser. It’s one that I bought the other day with Justina in Corfu town, and it will match my bracelet and ring and finish the outfit off nicely.
As I bring my hands up around my neck, big, warm hands grasp my wrists, holding me stil
l.
Hot breath tickles my ear. “Oh, I don’t think a normal necklace will do at all for this occasion, Lacy.”
Alesso captures my wrists on one hand and lowers them, placing my palms on my thighs. He takes the necklace from me and puts it on the dresser.
“Stay still,” he commands.
Something cool touches my neck, and my eyes shoot open to watch in the mirror as Alesso snaps a thick gold choker around my neck. It has something on the front, and I lean closer to look.
No, not a choker, a collar. It has a ring on the front. Oh, Lord, what is the ring for?
I don’t have to wait long for an answer as Alesso reaches behind him and takes a jeweled leash, which he attaches to the ring on the front of the collar.
“There you go.” He kisses my ear, and I shiver as I look at us in the mirror. Me in white, collared, and leashed. Him so tall and broad behind me, towering over me, wearing a dark suit, with his dark good looks matching his clothes.
We make an erotic tableau, and I lower my gaze, unable to meet his gaze.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Lacy,” I say.
“Good girl.”
His voice seems deeper than usual, and gruff. Is he getting off on this the same as I am?
“So, you need to keep up with me, or this will hurt. If you stumble, grab the leash, and I’ll let go.”
Thank God I’m wearing shoes with only a small square heel.
“God, look at you.” Alesso shakes his head as he lets hold of the leash and steps back to admire me. “You’re a mixture of innocence and depravity, and you are making me so fucking hard.”
I glance down at the front of his pants and see he’s not lying. A little thrill runs through me. I did that to him, to this powerful, gorgeous man.
“Christ, I need to get my head into gear,” he mumbles.
Not sure what possesses me, I reach forward and push the door closed then sink to my knees. I love the taste and smell of him, so this is no hardship for me. I undo his zip and take him out, my mouth watering at the perfection of his long, hard length.
I take him as deep as I can, and while I’m no expert at this, I hope enthusiasm more than makes up for my lack of skill. If Alesso’s groan is anything to go by, it does.
I’m horny as hell myself, and am wondering if I dare lift my dress and stroke myself, when something hard touches me right where I ache the most.
Looking down, I gasp to see Alesso rubbing at my core, through my panties, with his shiny black dress shoe. He reaches between us with one hand and picks up the leash, holding it so my head doesn’t have much range of motion.
Holy hell! This is so … degrading. But also so hot. I don’t care how it must look, I hump his shoe as I suck him as deep as I can.
He comes down my throat with a grunt, and before I know what’s happening, he lifts me up, places me on the edge of the bed, and pulling my panties to one side, licks my pussy until I come too. I find my release pressing against his face as I cry out.
Alesso looks at me from between my legs, his face unreadable. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, pulls my panties back into place, and helps me stand. He doesn’t kiss me, or say anything, and I’m once more left reeling at the way he blows so hot and cold.
“I don’t even get a kiss?” I say.
He smirks. It’s not warm, but cruel and nasty on his pretty face. “Don’t want to ruin your lipstick any more than it already is,” he says.
I stare at him, and before I can stop myself, my hand shoots forward to slap him across the face. I freeze. He does too.
For what seems like hours we stare at one another, lust, anger, desire, and possibly hate pulsing between us. He lifts his hand, and I brace myself, but he merely rubs at his jaw. He then grabs my leash and gives it a hard jerk, making me trot to keep up with him as he marches us out of the room.
“A small slave rebellion, is it?” Alesso laughs. “Get it out now because you behave like that in public and you’re likely to get us all killed.” He turns to me, and his blue eyes look almost black. “And if we survive, I’ll bring you back here and show you what happens to bad girls. Got it?”
Is he serious? I decide that I don’t want to test him, so I simply swallow and nod. I’m fuming inside, but I keep quiet. I don’t want to argue right now.
We reach the downstairs hallway, and Justina glances from Alesso to me, and back again. She frowns. “So … you two are going to this auction as master and slave who hate one another? Not sure that will fly with the crowd we’re mixing with.”
“She’s right.” Andrius walks out of the kitchen, doing up the cuff links on his three piece dark grey suit. “Whatever’s going on between you get over it, and go back to the wanting to fuck one another’s brains out thing instead.”
“Unless,” Justina says thoughtfully. “You know, this might work well from Stella. She’s bought and paid for, right? She probably wouldn’t actually like Alesso very much.”
“Fair point. But she’d be scared to show it this brazenly,” Andrius argues. “So maybe, let the aggression peep out now and again, but only when Alesso isn’t watching you.”
I stare at Andrius, my mouth falling open.
“Darling.” Violet appears at the doorway, and she shakes her head. “She’s not an actress, for God’s sake. Get in there, do your thing, and come home to me. I hate that you’re doing this, even though I know it’s the right thing. You better come back to me in one piece. You’re going to be a father. You have responsibilities.”
“We’re all coming back in one piece, Violet.”
I turn to where the deep voice came from to see Markos at the top of the stairs.
I have to confess that I’ve never really noticed him before. He’s leaner than Damen and not as tall, and he hasn’t the devastating looks of Alesso, so I suppose he never really landed on my radar, but now I look at him with fresh eyes.
He’s wearing a tuxedo, and he looks darkly handsome in it. His hair is curled around his collar, and his sharp cheekbones are highlighted by the landing light reflecting off them.
“What’s with the penguin suit?” Andrius scoffs.
“I don’t have a suit with me, so I thought I’d rent this.” Markos shrugs.
“Jesus.” Andrius shakes his head.
“I think you look very handsome, Markos.” I smile at him, and he returns it, transforming his face into something much more alive than his usual almost blank mask.
“And you look beautiful, Stella,” he says. Then he frowns. “Not sure about the leash, though.” He shoots Alesso a dark glare.
“She’s my slave, thought I’d make it realistic,” Alesso grouses.
“Oh, I bet you did,” Justina says with a sly smirk.
We’re all on edge, and I have the feeling if we don’t get going soon, we’ll end up fighting between ourselves and never making the auction.
Irina, the maid who is coming with us, enters the hallway from the door to the basement downstairs, where she has a huge room, and she’s on the arm of one of the Spetsnaz men Andrius has here, Filipp.
We eventually are ready to head out. I can’t believe that Violet hasn’t figured out that Irina, and the other maid, are something more. She says goodbye to Andrius and gets a little tearful, so we all head to the two cars to give them some space.
They all talk some more about the plans as we wait, and seem to decide on a final strategy.
Alesso, Markos, and myself get into one car. Andrius, Justina, Irina and Filipp will take the other. Irina and Filipp are posing as a happily married couple, who enjoy swinging and BDSM. He’s an oil baron, and she’s a trophy wife. Markos is single and wanting to find himself a companion, hence us all going to the auction. He’s a dotcom millionaire with shady preferences.
Justina and Andrius are a couple who tolerate one another. He uses hookers and buys women sometimes. They stay together for the money and the shared power, but there is no love anymore. And as for me, I’m Ales
so’s slave. Marvelous. I really drew the short straw here. I was supposed to be his enamored slave, a theory thought up by the men, but soundly put to bed by Justina, who said I should hate him. It also plays better; she claims with the vibe I’ve got going right now anyway.
Their last-minute theory is they need someone in our group to be here against their will, to give our party kudos in the eyes of the sick fucks who run the auction. Hence myself and Alesso being Lacy-the-bought-and-paid-for-slave, and Alesso-the-sick-fuck-master.
Myself and Andrius are the only ones not using our real names or a variation of. The others all have kept their first names for this outing, and only changed all or part of their last names. For me, though, it was considered too dangerous, in case Stuart had any information on me relating to Simon’s death. And as for Andrius, he’s too well known in the underworld for him to risk using his real name. Even someone like Stuart, who so far as we are aware hasn’t mixed with the Bratva in any way, might have heard whispers of the feared Bratva enforcer. So Andrius is now Vadim, which I think suits him, as it sounds positively evil and reminds me of Vlad the Impaler.
As we drive through the dark night, I repeat Lacy, Lacy, Lacy in my mind the entire time. I don’t want to fuck up and forget if someone uses my fake name. I also don’t want other thoughts in there because in this moment, I’m feeling nothing but anger toward Alesso.
How dare he? How dare he come barging into my life, talking about making me safe, making me his, and all that other bullshit, and then get epic cold feet and simply run away. I shake my head and stare out the window, breathing Lacy, Lacy, Lacy, under my breath and trying to control the churning of my stomach.
We arrive at the grand hotel where the auction is taking place, and the cars are valet parked. I can’t believe somewhere as glitzy as this would hide such a dark secret. Apparently, it’s still a privately owned family business, and the owners get a hefty kickback for letting their ballroom be used this way twice a year.