by Ella Miles
The last man I’m introduced to is younger, closer to my age. He, like me, doesn’t like to be called by his last name. Instead, he goes by Rafael.
Julian motions for us all to take a seat. Julian sits on the end of the table, and I’m seated on his right with everyone else filed around.
Servants stream in, pouring everyone a drink, and bringing out appetizers. I force myself to eat calamari even though I’m not the least bit hungry.
“So tell us, when will the next shipment be in?” Mr. Palmer asks.
Julian shovels food into his mouth. Apparently, he wants me to answer the mundane questions.
“Two weeks,” I say.
Mr. Palmer sounds surprised, “So long?”
“Yes, we want to ensure we get the highest quality for you to choose from.”
“Hmm,” his wife, Mrs. Gibson, murmurs, not believing me.
“We also hand-deliver your selection to ensure your order gets there swiftly and without any complications,” I say, like I’m talking about a shipment of drugs instead of women.
Everyone nods.
“Tell me, what type of women and how many each of you might be interested in? We’d like to make the best selections for you,” Julian says.
We go around the room listening to each of Julian’s guests describe in vivid detail the kind and quantity of women they want to buy. It’s clear we won’t be able to get rid of any more than twenty to this group of buyers, but they have connections who would be happy to take more if the quality is high, according to Mr. Gibson. And these four would pay fifty million dollars a piece for a high-quality woman.
“Again, you still haven’t convinced us of the quality of your women.” Mr. Palmer says, shoving half a lobster into his mouth after drowning it in butter.
Julian smiles. He snaps his fingers.
My next sight hits me down to my bones.
Siren is dragged into the room, tied up with ropes and three men guarding her. Her mouth is gagged, and she fights hard against the ropes.
Julian nods to one of the guards, and he rips the sweater from her body. The look in her eyes is one meant to kill.
She fights harder, and I have no doubt if she fought for long enough, she’d find a way to free herself. You can see it in all her body language. And everyone in the room witnesses it too. I quickly look around and see how much every person in the room wants her—my woman.
My blood boils red. I can’t make a scene here. It would ruin everything. I need Julian to think I’m as bad as him, so when I leave this damn island, he will have no reason to follow. I’ll have paid my debt.
But after this, after what he did to Siren, I can’t just bounce. Julian will pay for this.
21
Siren
I’m not a woman who asks for help often. But today—I’m asking for help. Because I already know how this ends.
I have rope burn all over my body. My agitated skin will have marks and welts for at least a week where the rope digs into my skin. At least the physical marks won’t be permanent. But the emotional scars, they will stay with me forever.
This isn’t my first time in Julian’s house. I know what he has planned next. And being tied up, dragged out in front of a group of people enjoying dinner, while embarrassing, is nothing compared to what comes next.
I try to get free, but I’m not strong enough to take on three grown men, much less the ropes binding my arms and legs. I shake my head, trying to get the gag to loosen from my mouth. I manage enough for my cries to start sounding less like moans and more like real words. But I can’t get the gag off, and my cries for help sound like I’m enjoying myself, not afraid for my life. So eventually, I force myself to remain silent. These people don’t deserve to hear me.
My eyes defy every person in the room. The single old man. The gross couple. The young man. Julian snickering at the head of the table. And finally—Zeke.
I shouldn’t have looked at Zeke. I know it immediately when our eyes lock. He can’t help me, and that devastates me. Because he’s the only one who can…
Once I look at him, I can’t look away. I plead for him to help with my eyes. And his eyes respond with I can’t.
Everything else in his body screams a different promise. I’ll burn this fucking island down for you.
His face is red, his nostrils flare like a bucking bull, and his jaw ticks with the full force of his anger. The veins in his neck bulge as blood circulates faster, flooded with adrenaline. He’s suffering under the stress of a decision—saving me and ruining his relationship with Julian, or doing nothing to save face.
I don’t know which he’s going to choose. If logic wins out, I’m toast. But I can tell his heart thinks differently. His heart wants to save me.
I almost wish he wouldn’t save me. I’ll ruin his soul, and he won’t deserve the pain.
Zeke’s body has hardened, and I can’t tell if his muscles are pumping up ready for a fight, or his brain won and his body is just tense as he forces it to stay in his chair.
Unfortunately, Julian decides not to stay in his chair. He stands and takes his time walking over to me.
“All the women we bring you will be of similar quality as this one. Expensive breeding, exquisite body, and a fight you will enjoy taming.”
I scream as I pull against the ropes as Julian approaches.
The woman laughs. “She’s wonderful. Is she for sale?”
Julian looks at Zeke, who looks like he’s going to murder everyone in the room.
“Sorry, I don’t believe she’s for sale,” Julian finally answers. “But worry not, we will only bring you women of the same caliber.”
There are murmurs throughout the room.
“Come, see for yourself what a treat she is,” Julian says, waving the group over.
No.
I won’t let them touch me.
I have too much self-respect.
I have control over who touches me and who doesn’t.
Zeke sits up straighter, seconds away from launching himself across the table. I want him to save me, but not from this. This, I got.
So I give Zeke a wink. He blinks rapidly, not sure he saw me do it. It makes me smile slightly. He cocks his head, confusion on his face.
This time, I save myself, but you owe me, Zeke. Soon, I won’t be able to.
He nods at me, and then I focus on my target—the woman. She disgusts me more than anyone else here. And if I take her out, this charade will stop. They will focus on helping her, not on parading me around the room for their pleasure. They will hate me.
The old man approaches and grabs my chin—I let him. He inspects my face like a racehorse he’s about to buy.
The next man grabs my waist, pulling me toward him until I smell his whiskey breath and plump belly against my stomach. At least his stomach protrudes enough to shield me from feeling any erection he might have under all that blubber.
The young man keeps his distance, observing from afar. He pretends to be uninterested, although I know differently. It doesn’t make him any more moral than anyone else here.
Finally, the woman approaches. She takes her time looking me over with a bright smile, and then, she goes for my breast. Not today, lady.
The guards are holding my arms tightly out on either of my sides, with the third guard standing behind me. My feet are tied together at my ankles. I can’t break free of the ropes, so I use them.
As the men hold me up, I throw my weight back onto my arms, lift my legs, and kick her hard in the chest with both my feet.
The woman falls back, like she’s just been shot.
I laugh beneath my gag as the guards stand in shock, not sure what to do. The potential buyers bend down to help the woman. She struggles to breathe, and she’ll have a nasty bruise over her heart for a few days. I’m sure I’ll get punished for the move by the guards or Julian, but it will be worth it.
Julian walks over, observing my victim calmly, and without any intention of helping. Instead, he t
urns and looks at me with fury in his eyes.
Serves you right for treating me worse than an animal.
“Get her out of here,” Julian says to the guards.
I’m starting to get dragged out, when Zeke stands up.
Yes! Now is the time to save me. Because if I leave this room without you, the scars they’ll inflict will never leave me.
Julian steps in front of me, facing Zeke. I can see the side of Julian’s expression. He’s telling Zeke to fix this. Close the deal, or else.
Or else what? What does Julian have over Zeke?
When my view of Zeke is unblocked, I look at him, but he’s no longer looking at me, he’s looking at the mess on the floor and how he’s going to salvage it.
No…
Zeke…
Julian returns his gaze to me, and I see the devil in his eyes. I know what comes next.
The guards pull me out of the room, away from Zeke.
Zeke doesn’t follow.
He stays. He sentences me to my fate.
If he lets me leave with Julian, he won’t be able to save me.
The guards drag me up the stairs and into Julian’s bedroom. I’m tossed to the floor. My body slams against the wood floor. The guards leave as Julian enters the room.
The familiar sound of the lock on the door closing behind him skyrockets my anxiety.
Julian takes his time walking over; he’s like Zeke in that way. How could two men be so similar and yet treat me so differently?
Julian yanks me to my feet, and I’m left standing in the middle of the room, still tied around my arms and legs. My mouth is still gagged. I have the ability to fight—to at least delay Julian’s fury and give Zeke more time to rescue me.
But I’m frozen. I can’t move. I can’t react. Julian is the only man in the world I can’t fight back against.
It wouldn’t make sense to most people. But it’s my reality. That’s why Julian scares me more than most men. Every other man I can fight against. He may still win, but at least I have a chance. With Julian, I’m helpless.
Julian undoes the button holding his jacket together. He slips it off carefully and hangs it over the back of a chair in the corner. Then he slowly rolls up his sleeves. Each of his movements taunt me. My imagination is worse than what will really happen—or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Julian grins at me as he takes a step closer, and I don’t back up. He’s won already. He controls me.
“Such a pretty girl, but you didn’t dress very pretty for me tonight, pet.”
I close my eyes. I need to disappear, at least in my head. It’s the only way to survive.
But Julian won’t allow that. What fun would he have in hurting me if he couldn’t see the pain all over my face?
He grabs my chin and uses his other hand to pry my left eye open. It burns being forced open.
And then he spits.
I close my eye quickly, but some of his saliva still enters my eye—disgusting. I try opening, but it stings. I blink, trying to see again, but I can’t. What was in his saliva? Pepper? Alcohol? It’s fucking alcohol. I smell the whiskey.
“Look at me, pet.”
I can’t, I try to say, but it comes out as a moan.
I look at him with my good eye, and his lips curl up higher, loving my sounds.
I won’t make any more. That was the last you will get from me, you bastard.
I swallow down the pain. It’s just my eye. I’m sure with some water, it will be better. My eye is the least of my worries.
I have to frequently close and re-open my eyes so I don’t seem like I’m crying. It’s when I have my eyes closed that he chooses to attack.
His hit is a semi-truck right to my jaw. It takes my breath away and gives me a splitting headache. I’m sure I heard bones break. It will take me weeks to be able to eat properly.
I fall to my knees from the explosion of pain in my head. I try to open my eyes, to prepare for the next attack.
“You can thank your boyfriend for that. He punched me in the jaw; it’s only polite to return the favor.”
Zeke punched Julian? Somehow that makes me feel a little better. I’m not sure what Zeke and Julian’s relationship is exactly. Zeke doesn’t call him Mr. Reed like everyone else, and Julian doesn’t seem to care. Yet, Zeke still works for him, makes money for him. I don’t understand.
“And this, this is because I like breaking pretty things.”
No!
It’s too late. My breath is gone as he kicks me in the chest. My ribs crack, and I’m afraid my heart stopped at the jolt.
I fall over to my side. I’m helpless. Powerless. I can’t win. And Zeke will be too late. I already know.
I look to the door through my burning tears. The tears from my left eye spill to the right. I close my eye tightly, but some of the drops get in, burning my right eye as well.
I close them both tightly, refusing to open again. I have no hope that Zeke will come, at least not until it’s all over. For all I know, he’s already sold me to Julian. That’s why he let him take me. And he’s downstairs getting the other men to agree to a payment of their own.
Zeke will leave here rich, while I’ll leave here broken and in someone else’s charge.
I feel more hits, but they barely register. He’s already broken me; everything else is just scattering the pieces. The first hit is always the worst; this is nothing.
Until everything changes. Getting hit is one thing, but getting raped…
I feel him rip my clothes with a blade pushed against my skin, leaving my bindings intact, until I’m wearing only my underwear.
I beg through my eyes, giving him one final plea, hoping he has some level of consciousness beneath his rough exterior.
Please.
I hold my gaze on his as a single tear falls down my face. Then another, and another.
“God, I love it when you beg.”
With one final rip, I’m naked except for the ropes. I have no clothes left to protect me. Julian is done beating me.
I was wrong when I said the first blow is the worst. If I was only getting beaten, that statement would be true. But what comes next will obliterate me. There will be nothing left of me to put back together.
Siren will be gone. And I don’t know who will replace me.
22
Zeke
I don’t like that I can no longer see Siren. But being locked away somewhere is safer than being in this room, with these horrible people. As soon as I finish closing this deal, I’ll get her and leave.
I still have a sin to use against her from our game yesterday, but I’ve already sinned enough. I’ll answer any question she has and let her commit any sin against me.
Because I failed her.
I didn’t protect her.
She’s spent her night tied up in ropes because of me.
I walk over to the huddle of men and the injured woman Siren kicked in the chest. Serves her right. I wish I could do the same to all of them without pissing off Julian.
“Need any help? Should I call for the doctor?” I ask.
“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” the woman’s husband says. He strokes her face. “Feeling better, dear?”
Dear? God, they disgust me. He’s calling his wife by an endearment when they came here to buy another woman for him to stick his nasty dick into.
She nods, and the men help her sit up. She grasps her chest, her breathing hard and painful.
Good.
“She just knocked the wind out of me. That was some woman,” she says.
At least she got something right; Siren is definitely some woman—she’s my woman.
“Maybe we should continue these discussions next week? You should probably get some rest; you took quite a hit,” I say, just wanting this night over. I’ll wine and dine them again; I just want to get Siren out of here as fast as possible.
“No, no. That won’t do. We have a flight scheduled for tomorrow afternoon,” the h
usband says.
“Well, would you like to discuss some numbers then?” I ask. Please say no. Say you don’t want to do business with us after Siren hurt your wife.
“Yes, let’s do.”
Ugh.
I spot a stack of documents in the corner of the dining room Julian seems to have had drawn up for this meeting. Where is Julian anyway?
I spot one of the servants. “Do you know where Jul—I mean, Mr. Reed disappeared to?”
He nods and whispers. “He had some blood on his shirt. He’s just changing but said to have you finish up here.”
I sigh.
I pick up the documents and look them over quickly, knowing the faster I get this finished, the faster I get to see Siren. I’m not waiting on Julian to get back.
The contracts discuss the payment and delivery timeline the client would like for “goods.” No mention of selling women. Smart not to put something so incriminating down on paper.
I sit down in Julian’s seat, not because I want to sit there, but because it gives me the best view of everyone.
“So how many would you like delivered to you? We can offer a slight deal on larger orders. But if you want the absolute best we find, those come at a premium price.” Fuck me. I deserve everything coming my way for this meeting alone.
The wife and husband exchange glances, and then she looks at me giddily. “We want the woman who was here before.”
I cock an eyebrow. “The woman who kicked you?”
I don’t understand why they would want Siren when she nearly killed this woman. If she wasn’t tied up, I have no doubt she would have succeeded.
“Yes, we want her. I love a woman with that much spirit. A woman like her takes so much longer to break. We will pay a premium price for her,” the wife says.
“She isn’t for sale,” I answer.
The wife looks to her husband, who takes over. “I’m sure we can come to a financial agreement.”
“She’s not for sale.” No woman should be.
“Twenty million.”
