by J. L. Beck
She slumps and then quickly scrambles off my lap.
Sarah walks in a beat later and deposits a tray of food on my desk, staring between us. “Everything is ready for tonight. Just let me know who is doing the driving and who you want as servers.”
I glance at Celia, who stares between us in confusion. “What’s going on?”
Sarah clears her throat, casts me a look, and leaves. The woman always has impeccable timing, both for good and bad situations.
Celia puts her hands on her hips and then grabs a piece of toast off the plate. “I’m eating. Tell me what’s going on before I imagine the worst.”
With no other choice, I shrug and answer, knowing this is it, the moment she shuts down and closes me out again. “Today’s the day. The auction is tonight. My staff are preparing, just like they do for every single one of my events.”
Her hand holding the toast freezes, hanging inches away from her lips. “The auction?”
I lock down all the warm and tender shit that I let run rampant through me for the past day and meet her eyes with the stone-cold expression I give every other bastard on the street. “You knew this was coming. It shouldn’t be a surprise. At least now you can get back to existing outside of these walls.”
Her eyes fly wide, and she throws the toast onto the plate. “Did you just say ‘get back to existing’ like the moment I walk out of your little party, I won’t belong to another human being? Like they won’t use me and throw me away the second I bore them?”
I keep steady eye contact with her and lean back in the desk chair. “You want out of this house, and you’ll be getting out tonight.”
Some part, deep down, hates the hurt flashing across her face and how she keeps trying to master it and failing.
“We had sex yesterday. I’m not a virgin. Can’t you find some other woman to put up for sale, another virgin even?”
Now who is lying to herself? “You’re telling me you’d be fine if I went out, plucked another virgin off the street, and sold her in your stead? You wouldn’t feel one bit of guilt for me doing that?”
“Then cancel the event altogether.”
“I can’t, and I won’t. Did you really think last night would change anything?”
She stays quiet for long enough that I don’t even need an answer. I grab the piece of toast she’d been eating and shove it in my mouth. If only to keep from getting up and offering comfort. Something I don’t even do for my own brother.
“I guess I should have made things more clear yesterday. What we did was fucking, and it was more of a punishment to get you back in line than anything else.”
Her eyes narrow, and she stalks forward. “And me waking up in your bed, was that part punishment too?”
I surge out of the chair. Something more than anger, more than my need to dominate my emotions, bubbles up inside me. When I meet her anger with my own, she stumbles backward until I press her into the wall. “Listen, princess, you mean nothing more to me than revenge. Yesterday was nice. It felt good, but don’t think a little sex is going to sway me from my goals. Nothing on this planet has that power. Especially not you.”
She trembles against me, her chin held high despite the sheen of tears coating her eyes. “Well, thank you for clarifying that for me. I see now that I mean nothing to you, despite the evidence to the contrary. I wouldn’t want to put a dent in that masculine pride of yours.” She shoves me away from her, and I allow it, if only to put some distance between her body and mine.
I watch her carefully, waiting for another outburst, but she picks up the mug of coffee and takes a sip. Using the food as an excuse, I shove the tray toward her. “Take it with you back to your room. I’ll have someone bring you some clothes later today so you can prepare yourself.”
“Prepare myself,” she whispers against the rim of the mug. “Exactly how am I supposed to prepare myself to be sold to another person? How can I get ready to no longer have control over my own life? Any tips for that?”
She carefully replaces the mug on the tray and then lifts the napkin wrapped silver and throws it at my face. Of course, since I’m within a foot, she makes a direct hit, the butt of the knife leaving a sting on my cheek.
I leave the utensils where they’ve fallen and glare. “Do it again, and I’ll drag you to the auction naked tonight. I’ll let every man there inspect you himself with his hands, his mouth, even his cock if he’s willing to pay the right price.”
She hisses out a breath. “You wouldn’t.”
“Why not? I’m already done with you.”
I went too far with that last comment, my anger riding me. I don’t know why I can never stay in control around this woman. But I can’t apologize. I’ve already shown too much weakness to her.
She lifts the apple from the tray like she might take a bite, then chucks it at me hard enough it makes a thud against my chest. I stare down at the apple, and then back at her, my mind a desolate wasteland where thought used to be. I snag her arm in my grip before she can run away.
“No, you’re not going yet.” I walk her to the desk, lift her up, and lay her across it.
She struggles and shoves at me, futilely. “No, get off me, you asshole.”
I pin her arms above her head, and her body with my own. “You don’t give me orders. I’m the one who gives you the orders. When you can’t obey them, you get punished.”
“What are you going to do? Fuck me? Lock me up? Sell me?” she mocks.
I pull her hands together in one of my fists and capture her chin in my hand. “You’re done talking for the day. I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”
She gasps, stilling over me. Her next words are soft. “I know you care about me. I can feel it every time you touch me. Like a tongue to a 9V, it sparks through me so obviously I can’t ignore it.”
“You don’t know anything about me, and I know nothing about you. What we did was fun, but that was it. Leave it alone now. It’s time to move on.”
Her eyes are wide and bright, tears hugging the edges. I feel like I’ve kicked a puppy with the way she’s looking at me.
She arches her neck toward me and presses her lips to mine, tears streaming over her cheeks as she stares into my eyes. I let her kiss me and refuse to move or even breathe as she molds her lips to mine. I don’t react, even as hard as it is for me not to. I stand like a statue, showing my cold indifference.
“It’s not true,” she whispers.
Before she’s out of my hands, I need to kill any notion in her we can ever have a future. As long as she thinks it’s possible, she won’t stop trying. I dig my phone out of my pocket and scroll to the last picture. It’s of her dead fiancé, lying on the concrete in the parking garage where I shot him.
I hold the phone up, so she can see the image. When her brain processes, she reels away in shock.
“This is what happens when you think love is real. People die. For some idiotic reason, you agreed to marry this fool. And he took that weakness for himself. Your fiancé wanted money more than he wanted a wife. When he drugged you and sold you to me, I thought it was enough to cover a percentage of his debt. This is what happened when he pushed for more, trying to see how much he could weasel out of me.” I close the phone and toss it on my desk. “Also, I didn’t like his face. Don’t mistake me for a kind man. I’m not. You’re here to make me money, and if you can’t do that, you’re expendable. Do you understand?” I put more bite in my tone than usual, for both our benefits.
When she nods, I turn to the tray and what is left of my breakfast. “Get the fuck out until I come find you tonight.”
She doesn’t leave right away, and I shovel some eggs into my mouth, pretending she doesn’t exist or that the very scent of her hasn’t worked its way under my skin.
The air around me stirs as she walks to the door. I don’t look at her when she goes. The second my office door closes, I throw myself into the armchair in front of my desk and focus on piecing myself back together again.
When I told her love is a weakness, I meant it. The only good use for it is manipulation. Nothing works better than a person’s love for another to ensnare them. Even idiots like Gardello are susceptible. He just didn’t love a person; he loved money more than anything else. Which ultimately led to his downfall.
Soo finds me still in the chair a little while later. “Everything good?”
I nod and stand to go back to the other side of my desk and get back to work. She’s distracted me long enough, and I need to ensure everything is settled before tonight. If even one thing falls through the cracks, the entire event can be ruined.
Soo stands in front of my desk, a look I don’t like on his face.
I snatch up a piece of paper that had fluttered to the floor in my fight with Celia. “What’s your problem?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. You seem worried, is all, and if I’m being honest, you’re not usually one to show any type of fear or concern.”
His assumption of me being worried or afraid is annoying. “Well, I don’t know. Today is the event we have been working toward for years, Soo. I’m entitled to fuss over the proceedings. They are mine, after all. Just do your part. Did you get the clothes for her?”
He waves at a black paper bag by the door. “Everything she will need is in there. Have you considered what you’ll do if she refuses to get ready?”
I shrug. “I don’t give a fuck. If she won’t put on the clothes I’ve provided, then she can walk into the warehouse naked. I’m sure the buyers would love that even more than the dress.”
The thought of all those men looking at her bare flesh makes me want to punch something.
I stare down my second-in-command. “Fine, a new proposition, then. If she fights you on getting dressed, tell her that I’ll come in and dress her myself. And once I’ve put her in the slinkiest, sexiest thing I can find, I’ll tie her up in ropes and walk her into the warehouse hogtied. Let’s see which she will prefer.”
Soo dips his head, a smile playing on his lips. He just might enjoy fighting with her. And I hate him a little bit for it.
25
Celia
The bastard wants me in ribbons. A stylist showed up at mid-day, and while I endured her attentions as she fussed with my hair, waxed me to within an inch of my life, and expertly applied makeup, so I didn’t even look made up, I hated every second.
Once she leaves, I slip back into the shirt and wait for whatever costume Nicolo has prepared for me. A maid skirts into the room carrying a dress bag a few moments later. She places it on the door to my closet.
“Thank you,” I tell her, even if the dress and this place leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth.
As soon as she retreats from the room, I climb off the bed and walk over to the closet, pulling the zipper on the bag down to inspect the contents. I’m not surprised to find it’s a deep red, almost wine color, and barely what I would call a dress. The front of the dress has a panel that is little more than lace, and the back is open, save a thin ribbon crisscrossing from the top of the barely-there skirt to where it ends just under my shoulder blades.
Jesus, I can’t wear this. I might as well wear nothing.
As I stare at the dress, I can’t figure out how I’m going to get into it. A knock draws my attention to the door just as Soo comes walking in. I grab the dress off the door and carry it over to the bed.
“Glad the dress made it to you,” he says. “Can I help you?”
I glare at him and wave at the red scrap of clothing. “You call this a dress? I’ve worn underwear with more material than this thing.”
Soo approaches and stares down at it. “Nic picked it out personally. He wants you to wear it, so you can either put it on, or he has other ideas in mind. And as you know, he has a vivid imagination.” His tone is bland, and I can’t tell if he cares or not.
He continues before I can think of something both witty and cutting to reply with. “Sorry I missed you yesterday. I stopped by your room to give you those pants and coffee, but you were …detained.”
I snort, and my cheeks flood with heat. “You mean I was fucking your boss.”
He picks up the dress and deftly loosens the straps carefully and almost methodically. “He’s not my boss. He’s my best friend. We’re partners.”
Once he finishes, he kneels at my feet to help me into the material, but I retreat. “No, thank you. I can get dressed on my own. I don’t need your help.”
His arched eyebrow and deadpan look tell me exactly what he thinks before he even opens his mouth. “You’re about to be sold to someone who will most certainly keep you without clothes for his pleasure. Why are you worried about me?”
To be honest. I’m not. I’m stalling, trying to buy time.
He comes to that conclusion himself. “If you aren’t ready, Nic will just drag you out the door naked. He doesn’t care one way or the other. Let me help you into this, and you can make both our lives a little easier tonight.”
“Why would you think I care about making your life easier? As you say, I’m about to be sold. I don’t give a shit about any of you.”
He spreads his hands in the material pointedly, urging me to put it on. “I’m very good at reading people, Ms. Ricci, and I know for a fact you’re lying your ass off when you say that. You might wish you don’t, but you do.”
I step toward him just to get him to shut his mouth. We manage to get it up my torso and the thin spaghetti straps over my arms without too much embarrassment. Then he sets to work on the lacing in the back. It takes him minutes to do what would have taken me an hour.
He gestures at the bathroom. “Do you want to take a look?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t really care. Do I get shoes this time or what?”
“Barefoot, I’m afraid. But don’t worry, no one will let you step on anything.”
Nicolo’s second-in-command is much more formal today. He’s wearing tailored slacks, a black button down, and his hair is perfectly braided at the back of his head. With his matching scowl, he looks like a scarily sexy assassin.
When I’ve finished adjusting my dress, I stand awkwardly. “What now?”
He rips a long red ribbon about two inches wide from his pocket and gestures for me to spin around. “I’m sorry, but it’s protocol to ensure you don’t know where the house or the warehouse is.”
I do as he says, only because he’s been the nicest of the men in this house. “Can we set up some kind of signal system? I’ll pick a winner, and you make him bid.”
He finishes typing the ribbon and gently rotates me to face him again. “Sorry, the winner will be all about the money he’ll pay.”
“What if some old warty dude buys me?”
Soo adjusts a few straps on the dress and arranges my hair to fall over the front of my shoulders. Since I can’t see him, I assume he’s primping me for a reason. “We don’t know any old warty dudes if that makes you feel any better.”
“Marginally.”
I assume the little huff he makes is a laugh. It doesn’t matter, because he tucks my hand around his forearm and leads me out of the room. The drive to the location feels fast, but I can’t tell if it’s actually fast or if I’m simply terrified, and my brain is tricking me about the details to calm me the hell down.
After Soo helps me from the vehicle, I hear Nicolo talking nearby, and then he comes over to join Soo and me.
“Any problems?” I assume he is asking Soo since he made it clear this afternoon that I’m ornamental and shouldn’t be expressing my opinions to him.
Soo answers and lays a comforting hand over mine where it’s wrapped around his arm. “No problems. Have you seen Lucas yet? He wasn’t at the house.”
There’s a tension between the two men that seems to crackle along my skin. I keep my face down, not that it matters, since I can’t see. But when someone brushes my hair away from my face, Nicolo, by the subtle spicy scent of him, I shiver. He tucks the hair behind my ears, putting m
y scar on full display to everyone.
“Let’s go,” he says, his voice low and deep.
He doesn’t take my arm, though. Instead, he wraps his hand behind my neck and drags me beside him like a dog on a leash. I try to twist out of his grip, but his hold is too tight. Any more pressure, and he’d start cutting off my air supply.
“When we get in here, you don’t speak to a single soul. Nod if you understand,” he whispers harshly as the cold concrete below my feet gives way to smooth wooden planks.
“Don’t do this,” I plead one last time but am only met with silence.
The noise of lots of voices speaking at once greets me, along with a sweep of warm air. Then Nicolo’s hand tightens, and the voices slowly die down to a dull murmur. I can’t make out any specifics, but no doubt many of them are talking about me.
When someone brushes a hand along my arm, I jerk away, stumbling right into Nicolo’s side.
“No one touches her until she is bought and paid for,” he says, loud enough his voice echoes through the room.
There are some groans and protestations, but they dribble off, and then silence reigns. I’m drawn up onto a low stage or platform and left to stand elevated for inspection. I plead with every god I can think of that no one will go against his order to touch me. Any moment, I fear vomit will come spiraling up from some hidden depths. Of course, it doesn’t.
I shouldn’t love how protective he sounds or the tight hold he keeps on my neck. It’s almost soothing to feel owned by him. The devil you know, right?
I can’t afford to disillusion myself. He walked me through a warehouse full of people who want to buy me. As far as I’m concerned, this place can burn to the ground with everyone inside it.
He leans in and whispers, “Behave.”
I put on my fakest worst smile, and not bothering to lower my voice say, “Fuck you.”
His hand tightens on my neck for a flash, and then he shoves me away, releasing me completely. I guess I hit a nerve, but what does he expect? Me to sink to my knees and let him fuck my face again? After everything I’ve endured, even after the things he said to me, I know he has feelings. He’s just trying to hide them so no one else sees, especially me. Nicolo might not want to believe it, but he cares for me. And he hasn’t realized yet, but he’s killed any chance for me to return his affection now.