I’m unable to respond, his grip on my neck so strong that I can barely breathe.
He pulls me forward and then slams me back against the wall with enough force that it jars my teeth.
“I said you got it?” he repeats with fury. “The money is mine, and so are you. This is a fucking lesson and nothing else. I own you!”
“Yes,” I croak, my eyes stinging and my lungs refusing to fill.
Danny holds me there for a moment, applying more and more pressure to my throat until I think I’m going to pass out. He lets me go at the last possible second, and I fall away from the wall, sinking to my knees onto the grungy ground, gasping, choking and crying.
“You’ll do well to remember that,” Danny tells me, uncaring that I’m bawling my eyes out at his feet, “because if you don’t, you’re going to wish I left you for dead.”
“You’re going up for auction, and then you’re coming back to me.”
I nod my head vigorously, needing him to know I’m obeying. I’m listening. “Yes, Sir.” I croak out the words through the pain.
“There, there.” His voice softens. “I don’t know why you do this to yourself. All you have to do is listen.” I hear his words, so gentle and comforting. Just listen. But everything in me is telling me to run. This isn’t right.
“I’m sorry I’m so hard on you. I just know you aren’t well.” He crouches beside me and I flinch as he grips my chin in his hand. “You need me, you need this.”
I nod my head as much as I can, staring into his eyes. But I see through him. In a split second, I see through it all. It’s about the money. It hits me so hard, so brutally, I can’t hide my expression.
His face morphs from the gentle attitude to one of cruelty. “You’re going up there, Arianna.” His voice is low. “I know where you live. I saved your life, it belongs to me now.”
A feeling of despair washes over me as I choke on my tears, my neck throbbing.
“Just do what I say and everything will be alright.”
Chapter 7
Zander
My hand has been forced in some ways. Well, not quite. I pick up the beer bottle and bring it to my lips as I sit at the table in the far right corner of the upper floor in Club X. The auction room.
I’ve never felt as if my hand’s been forced. There’s always a choice. However, it’s undeniable that I’m backed in a corner with the knowledge that Arianna Owens will be on the stage soon. Sold to the highest bidder and if it’s anyone else, that will be the money I’m paid.
“What are you going to do?” Charles asks. He’s seated next to me at the small circular table. There are dozens of tables in the room that seat only two to three men at most. A mask covers his face just like most of the men here, including me. They all know who I am, but with his face completely covered by the smooth flat black mask that hides every inch of his features with the exception of his mouth, they have no idea who I’m seated with. He’s lucky in that respect.
My fingers trail along my jaw, the hint of stubble rough beneath my fingertips. “I haven’t decided,” I answer him honestly.
He grunts a laugh and sits back in his seat, picking up the pamphlet to the auction and skimming the lines. I’ve done the same so many times when I didn’t give a fuck about sitting here. Just doing my part to fit in and keeping my friends company while I take notes about the perversions of the other men in the room. Always watching.
I’ve never shown my cards. I’ve never given them an ounce of useful information to use against me if they so choose.
“I can’t believe a place like this exists,” Charles mutters under his breath. I turn to him, ignoring Madam Lynn, the owner of Club X, as she starts the show. I’ve seen these auctions a million times. I’ve never given a fuck about them. It’s mostly a charade, no surprise at all who will end up with who.
My shoulders rise in a shrug. It’s a fantasy really. Decorated and maintained to provide a false sense of a world that’s temporary. Darkened rooms for men to spend their money and sate themselves, safety for women who want to give in to their dark desires. It’s all an illusion, nothing more than that.
But as the first woman is sold as the hammer is dropped, I find my heart beating faster. The auction has never felt more real than in this moment.
The men are talking quietly to themselves. Arianna is next, according to the pamphlet. None of their eyes are on me. Instead they’re focused on Brooks, who’s seated on the far side of the room, at the table farthest away from me. His foot is tapping nervously on the floor as he leans back in his seat with a cigar, putting on a casual air. As if his very life doesn’t depend on Arianna being sold to pay his debt.
I imagine most of the men here expect him to bid on her. Like it’s a game between them. It wouldn’t be the first time a Dominant or Master has sent his partner to the auction, some for play, others for punishment. But when he doesn’t bid on her, the mood in the room will change. Each second that passes, taking me closer and closer to that moment, heightens my anxiety.
I can already feel the tense air growing as the men each decide for themselves if they’re willing to take her.
She’s the epitome of what a Submissive should be. Or Slave, rather. Since that’s the preference she’s taken at the club. She’s only ever been with him, but he’s put on quite a show with her before.
“How many have you come to?” Charles asks me, his voice low. So low that the clinking of the ice in his short glass of bourbon nearly drowns out his words as he brings the glass to his lips.
Again I shrug, lifting my beer bottle to my lips and taking a sip. I answer him with a low voice, “Too many.”
“How many have you won?” he asks.
“None,” I answer him with clarity, setting my glass on the white tablecloth and looking straight ahead. The thick red curtains are pulled back and the lights focused on the stage, just how it always is.
Charles laughs a deep rough sound, and my eyes are pulled to his.
“How can you resist?” he asks with a warmth in his voice I’ve never heard before.
“Easy,” I answer and take a quick look around the darkened room. “They’re all watching.”
“Let them see. Isn’t that what this place is for?” He swirls the ice in his glass and drains the remainder of the bourbon as a waitress passes us. I eye him as he leans in her direction, ordering another. He seems more comfortable behind the mask than I’ve ever seen him before. As if it grants him a freedom he’s never had. And I suppose it does. For him and many of the other men in here.
But I know all of the men in this room, and I’m not foolish enough to think that an NDA is enough to keep loose lips from using information within the walls of Club X as blackmail. As much as I’m fond of Madam Lynn, many things are beyond her control.
The first woman is sold to her own Dominant and the second is a new girl, unclaimed and looking a bit shy. She goes for a higher sum, having multiple bidders as the waitress comes back with another drink for Charles. No surprise there, and nothing out of place. Madam Lynn’s expression reflects exactly what I’m feeling as Arianna walks out onto the stage.
The lights are focused on her, making her sun-kissed skin seem to glow. She takes in a shaky breath as she stands there, and her ankles cross and uncross as she clasps her hands in front of her. Everything slows down as her thin black dress swirls along her upper thighs. With the lights so bright, her vision is limited. It will take her a moment to adjust to the darkness in the crowd beyond the stage. But she’s not trying. She doesn’t want to see.
“We’ll start the bidding at fifty thousand dollars,” the auctioneer says.
Madam Lynn’s gaze is focused on Brooks. She doesn’t like surprises, and she’s not used to them either. For a woman who’s so submissive in nature, she controls every aspect of the club with an iron fist. But this is out of her control, and her resentment of that is reflected in her eyes.
The small room is quiet; a man clearing his throat and the skinny
black heels shifting on the large stage ahead of us are the only sounds as the men wait to see what Brooks is up to. He takes a long and deep puff of his cigar, keeping his eyes on Arianna who’s looking straight ahead at the barren wall in front of her.
After a moment he crosses his arms, ignoring the men and looking uninterested.
“Five hundred thousand,” the auctioneer gestures to a man in the back. I take a quick look, not turning in my seat to see it’s Nathan Blanchard. He’s a simple man, vanilla in tastes, but has no knowledge of what it means to be faithful.
“Six,” a man across the room says as he raises his paddle. I recognize his voice, as do most of the men here. That’s the thing about masks. When the circles in the business world are so small, you can’t hide behind a thin piece of plastic or leather.
A third man raises his paddle, and I take another drink. Listening to the auctioneer and glancing at Brooks who’s merely smiling, confident his prized possession will buy him out of the debt he’s in.
Each bid feels like a slap to my face.
Whoever wins her will use her for his own enjoyment. However he'd like. Of course there’s a contract, set terms that Arianna will agree to. Her preferences are all laid out in the pamphlet sitting in front of me and in front of all the attendees. And she agreed to this. But I see the look in her eyes, and I know the way he treats her. I know her past. This isn’t right.
I’m not interested in their money. My teeth grind against one another as the paddles continue to raise, the amount increasing with each bid.
The next two bids make my back straighten. My muscles are getting more and more tense.
Arianna’s shoulders are rigid, but she stands tall, looking utterly gorgeous in the thin black chemise with a black rose held in front of her. Maybe it makes me a sick fuck, but the sadness only makes me want her more.
I raise my paddle, not uttering a word. It won’t be the first time I’ve bid. But my normal cocky grin is absent. I’m not just fucking with someone as I usually am when I bid.
I’ve done that before, more than a few times although I always know the man I’m screwing with. It’s always been in jest and lighthearted. But the winning bidder looks over his shoulder at me with disdain, and it’s hard to keep the emotions off my face.
“Don’t lose your cool,” I hear Charles say as he lifts the glass to his lips.
I lean back in my seat and force a smirk on my lips.
None of these men know what’s going on. They can think I’ve finally decided to indulge, but then they’ll have ammunition. They’ll use it against me.
From the corner of my eye, another paddle is raised.
“One point ten,” the auctioneer’s voice sounds out. “One twenty.” I hear his voice over the loud ringing in my ears. My eyes focus on Arianna’s. My heart beats slower, louder, drowning out everything else as I watch her close her eyes.
She’s not meant for this. This isn’t right. There’s such an innocence about her, a vulnerability. I want to save her. I really shouldn’t, since winning her will taint my reputation. I need to play this right.
It’s just a deal I made with a man I shouldn’t have. An error on my part. How many more mistakes can I afford?
“Going once,” the auctioneer yells out. The sight of Arianna’s large doe eyes opening and shining with fear is what breaks me from my thoughts. The quiet of the room comes back to me. The faint sounds of men drinking and hushed conversations fill the darkened room once again.
I can’t let her pay for my sins.
I raise my paddle, and the auctioneer points in my direction.
“One point three million.”
“One point four,” I hear Brooks’ voice, and it pisses me off. I lower my paddle and notice the way the other three men who were bidding look at him. As if they’re not sure they want to press on. As if it was just a game to them. A rather expensive one.
“One point five,” the auctioneer says as one of the other bidders raises his paddle.
I don’t hesitate. “One point six million dollars.”
“You look pissed,” Charles tells me, not so quietly. It’s an effort to smirk and look over at Brooks with a smile on my face, as if I’m merely playing. As if all the world is a game to me. Playing the part of a spoiled rich boy without a care in the world.
If only they knew.
Brooks plays with his paddle as if debating upping the amount. He can. And I can choose not to bid again. I can let him hang himself, but then his poor Arianna will go back to him.
Why is she even with him?
“Going once.”
I hadn’t questioned her motives before, but as the thought hits me, she could be in on this. The corner of my lips nearly drop as the auctioneer calls out, “Going twice.”
They could be playing me for a fool. And I’ve just given them exactly what they wanted.
My blood chills as the realization washes over me. And I played into their hands because of her. Because of the thought of someone else having her.
“Sold!”
And I let them play me. I’ve never felt so fucking stupid before… but now that she’s mine, I’ll have to play this right. It’s all about appearances. That’s all it’s ever been about.
My reputation, my family name, it’s all on the line.
I’m simply a rich boy who fell for a woman and couldn’t resist her.
This can’t come back as a perversion. I crack my knuckles, one at a time. The only way to get around that is to be seen with her. Constantly. And not in fucking Club X.
Chapter 8
Arianna
The scribble of pen going across paper fills the room. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Anxiety twists my stomach as I watch Madam Lynn flip through the papers of my contract, signing where needed, her finely sculpted right brow arched in concentration. Her dark blonde hair is pulled into an elegant side ponytail and her makeup is dramatic yet flawless, her lips painted a bright shade of red. A diamond cocktail ring adorns her finger and a sparkling cuff that mimics a Submissive's adorns her right wrist, while her strong, yet simple fragrance tickles the tip of my nose.
The creak of a chair breaks me out of my reverie and I freeze, my skin pricking. I feel fucking sick.
He’s watching me. It’s all he’s been doing since he stepped in the room. Watching me and saying nothing.
I try my best to avoid his gaze, my cheeks turning red and I readjust the hem of my dress to cover more of my legs. But his piercing blue eyes seem to draw mine to them. They’re beyond gorgeous, but more than that, they’re hiding secrets. Dark secrets.
Just like I am. Just listen to him. Do as he says. I’ll figure a way out of this. I just don’t know how.
The breath stills in my lungs as our eyes meet, heat flushing my throat. I’ve seen many handsome men here in passing, those that were bold enough to remove their masks while at play, but Zander takes the cake. His dark hair is perfectly groomed, his chiseled jawline immaculately shaved, his prominent cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. He’s dressed in a crisp dark suit, the white dress shirt underneath the jacket unbuttoned at the front. It goes without saying that he’s a man of power and wealth, but he exudes much more than that. There’s an aura of enigma around him, an atmosphere so strong that it causes my pulse to race and makes me weak in the knees. Zander stares back at me with an intensity that causes my palms to feel clammy, my body temperature rising. Even while looking intense, he looks so calm and composed, his legs spread out wide as if he owns the room. As if he owns me. And in a way, now he does. I let Danny use me. The thought makes my gaze fall for a moment. I’m going to find a way out of this. I just need time.
My eyes reach Zander’s again and his gaze entraps me, as if he knows what I’m thinking. A small voice in the back of my head tells me he can save me. Another calls me a fool, reminding me how Danny saved me.
After a moment, I’m forced to look away, my breathing ragged. I can’t take looking at him for more than a moment without
my heart skipping a beat. It’s almost as bad as when I was out there on the auction stage. Disgust twists my stomach as I think about what’s happening. I shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be happening.
My skin pricks as I remember seeing Danny in the audience. It took a moment for his eyes to reach mine as I walked off the stage, sold and wanting to run. His eyes seemed to tell me that I was still his, and that no matter whose collar I put on, I only have one Master. My blood chills as I remember that murderous look. It was the same look he gave me in the alley. The look that said if I defy him, I’m a dead woman.
Anxiety threatens to overwhelm me, and I bite my lower lip.
Madam Lynn seems to sense my discomfort and she looks up from my contract, setting her pen aside on the polished cherry wood desk. “Are you alright, Arianna?” she asks gently. I glance at Zander and my heart wobbles again. He’s still staring at me. I tear my eyes away and look over at Madam Lynn and shake my head.
“Yes, Madam,” I say, lying. “Are you sure? she asks. “If you have any concerns about the contract you're about to sign, please air them.” She pauses to gesture at Zander. “Don’t be afraid, you can talk freely in front of Mr. Payne. Anything at all that you want to say.”
“I’m fine,” I lie again.
Madam Lynn eyes me for a long moment. She senses something that I’m not being forthwith, but doesn’t press the issue. “Don’t worry,” she tells me gently, offering me a forced smile. “Mr. Payne will let me know if there’s anything that needs to be said.” She turns to him, waiting for an answer and something passes between them, although I’m not sure what.
“Mr. Payne, is there anything you would like to say before we commence signing?”
“No,” Zander says shortly, his eyes burning into my face.
It’s just one word. But I’m nearly consumed by the sound of his voice. It's so deep, rich and… sexy.
My cheeks burn as I’m filled with shame. I should not be having these thoughts.
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