The Highest Bidder

by Jenika Snow

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 Jenika Snow

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-482-5

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: JC Chute

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To my family, friends, and readers. Thank you for all your kind words and support. It means the world to me.

  THE HIGHEST BIDDER

  The Virgin Auctions

  Jenika Snow

  Copyright © 2013

  Preface

  The year is 2135, and young women are bid upon at the Virgin Auctions, a citywide event that allows wealthy men to purchase young brides for an exorbitant price. These females are prepped from a tender age to be the docile and submissive wives that will please their future husbands. Once they are bought, they are at the mercy of their owners.

  Prologue

  Macie let her hand flutter over her belly. She was pregnant. It had been difficult finding a way out of town to see a doctor that didn’t know the circle Kristoff ran in, that wouldn’t run and tell him before she was able to announce it, but she had finally found one that wouldn’t leave a paper trail. Her heart felt like it would burst through her chest, and her belly had thousands of tiny butterflies fluttering around. It had been five years since Kristoff purchased her at the auctions, and the whole time she had been waiting for this moment. The doctors had told her she might never conceive, but the heavens were looking down on her and she now carried a child. Tears of happiness pricked her eyes and she grabbed her shawl off the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. The wildflowers were in full bloom this time of year, and she knew that by the creek the most gorgeous purple foxgloves grew in abundance. She wanted to pick a beautiful bouquet and have the sweet-smelling aroma of the flowers filling the room. Of course nervousness was a waging war inside of her at the idea of telling Kristoff. Shock would most definitely be at the forefront of his reaction.

  She played in her mind how she would tell her love that she carried his baby, but their relationship had been strained as of late. Maybe now that she finally knew the truth, things would start looking brighter and they could finally have the future they both deserved. She may have done some irreversible damage to their relationship, but he was a forgiving man and loved her unconditionally. She knew love would prevail.

  Macie stepped outside and a warm breeze settled around her. The weather was so nice that she really didn’t need her shawl, but she knew once she ventured into the wooded area surrounding her and Kristoff’shome, the temperature would drop and a chill would settle over her. Twigs and leaves crunched beneath her feet as she walked further into the forest. The sound of moving water filtered around her and then she was breaking through the trees. The creek that ran parallel with their home was one of her favorite parts of the property. Flowers that matched the colors of the rainbow lined the creek bed and added a splash of life to the green and brown that surrounded her. It was a spot she could go and contemplate what she should do next, plan out what she really wanted out in life. Macie didn’t want to hurt anyone, but she deserved to be happy with the man she loved.

  Bending at the knees, Macie started plucking daisies and tulips, the bundle of flowers growing in her arms. A flash of purple caught her eye and she stood and made her way toward the foxgloves. She stopped at the edge of the creek. The water rushed quickly over the rocks that protruded from the ground. Gripping a section of her skirt with her free hand, she took that first step. Her foot touched the rock and she balanced as she stepped on the next. Making sure to keep to the flat rocks, she was almost to the other side when her next step caused her to slip. Arms flailing wildly, she tried to grasp something to steady herself. Her foot went out from under her and she tried in vain to get her bearings, but it was no use. The flowers flew out of her hand, raining down upon her as her body fell backward. The chilly water rushed around her, her garments sucking up the liquid like a thirsty fiend. Pushing herself up, she stood, but before she could take another step the sound of something cracking filled her ears right before pain lanced through her temple. Stars danced in her vision and she blinked them back several times. The world tilted and then the water started rushing over her again. Placing one hand on her belly, she used her other one to push herself up. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the rock and she took a few moments to try and get the dizzy sensation to pass. It took her several times, but finally she was able to make her way to the other side of the creek before collapsing. With the hard, unyielding ground beneath her, the blue, cloudless sky above her, and the green, towering trees surrounding her, Macie could almost imagine that everything was okay.

  A wave of nausea slammed into her and she rolled over and emptied the contents of her stomach. Lifting her hand to her head, she winced at the tender spot behind her skull. Blood coated her fingers when she brought them into her line of sight. She rolled onto her back, and that was when she saw him. A smile formed on her lips and she reached for him. She tried to say something, anything to get him to help her, but she was so cold and so very tired. She stared into his eyes, eyes she had looked into so many other times as he made love to her. He didn’t move, just watched her with an almost pained expression. Licking her lips, she whispered, “It is your child I carry, my love.” She placed a hand on her belly. "Please, please help me.” Macie tried to push herself up again but her strength was fading far too quickly from her limbs.

  “We had something special, darling. I would have given you everything if only you accepted what I had to offer, if you hadn’t betrayed me.” His angry tears landed on her cheeks and she fought to stay conscious. Wet warmth made a slow trail down her neck and she knew the blood loss was substantial. Dropping to his knees before her, he cradled her in his arms and lifted her shawl away from her. She could see the blood-soaked material in her peripheral. He stared at it for several moments, the emotions playing across his face a mix of anger, love, and something far darker. “Things could have been so different, my love. They could have been so very different. All I wanted was your obedience, and trust, but what I got was something far different.”

  That was the last thing she heard before darkness crept around the corners of her vision. She knew she was going to die in these woods, surrounded by beauty but feeling only ugliness. Before her eyes drifted closed, she let herself enjoy the sight of the purple foxgloves one last time.

  ****

  The blood rushed through his veins in a frantic wave. The sound of his heart beating in his ears washed away all other sounds. Sweat dotted his entire body and sickness gripped his stomach in an iron fist. He knew there were others around, following him, worried about the state he was in. When he had gotten the call at his office about Macie having an accident, everything around him faded. He felt as if he were in a dream, surrounded by the memories of a different life. He had broken several laws trying to get home, and truth be told he would have broken a hundred more to get to Macie. He could see the huddle of people in the distance and picked up his pace. Twigs snapped beneath him, their breaking forms echoing off the grand evergreens and blue spruces. The creek came into view and, as if a switch had been turned on inside of him, all sound rushed through his body. It was almost a sensory overload, but he pushed through it and stopped at the edge
of the creek. The water rushed by, licking over the rocks in an almost intimate caress. He couldn’t see through the throng of people that stood in a tight circle on the other side of the creek, but as if they sensed his presence they turned in unison and looked at him. The first thing he registered was their expressions. Sympathy and sorrow were clear on their faces and his mouth went dry. As if their movements were synchronized they parted, and he let his eyes travel to the small, fragile form lying on the ground.

  Crossing the creek in a matter of seconds, he fell to his knees in front of Macie. The pink dress she wore was soaked through with water and blood. Pieces of leaves and dirt covered the bottom of her dress and he found himself reaching down and picking off the debris. Tears threatened to spill, but he was acutely aware of everyone standing uncomfortably close to him. He only knew a handful of them. Some were his house staff, but the majority of them were clearly authorities.

  Macie’s dark hair cascaded over her brow and he reached out and brushed it away. She looked so very pale and fragile under the fall of the raven-colored tendrils. The strands were like silk between his fingers as he let them slip free. Emotion so strong it would have brought him to the ground, if he wasn’t already kneeling, consumed him and he reached out and scooped her into his arms. Burying his face in her neck he let his tears fall, not caring that he had an audience. She was so cold in his arms and he tightened his hold on her, wanting to warm her. She had loved coming to the creek and picking the flowers, and he gathered that was what she had been doing by the wildflowers that were scattered around her. He only had five years with Macie, five short years. He still wanted so much with her, even if she had grown distant with him, aloof even. He wanted to give her babies, wanted to watch her nurture their children. She would have made a wonderful mother. His body shook uncontrollably and he was aware of the murmurs surrounding him. They blamed him for her death, and maybe they were right. If he had just been less lenient with her, kept a tighter hold on her, she wouldn’t be lifeless in his arms right now.

  “Macie,” he whispered and let his emotions leave him until he was nothing but a shell of a man.

  Chapter One

  Two years later

  Kristoff brought himself back into the present. As he sat at his desk with the silence surrounding him, he always found his mind drifting back to that day when he held Macie for the last time. She was always a constant presence in his mind, but he knew at some point he would have to move on and let her memory rest in peace.

  He pictured her still alive, running around with the child that had been growing in her belly. They had had to pry him away from her body, and when the physician told him she was expecting, all he wanted to do was go back to her and hold her again. Things had been so tense between them months before her death, and regret and guilt filled him because of it. It had taken him a long time to move on from that horrendous experience, but now, two years later, he was starting to feel like he could move forward.

  Glancing down at the files in front of him, it had taken every ounce of strength he possessed to actually request them. Each young woman that stared back at him was even more beautiful than the next. Growing up he had always thought the Virgin Auctions were barbaric, but the older he got the more his father instilled that the auctions were a necessary evil. When the auctions had first become legal it had been because the poverty level had risen so high. Officials thought auctioning off young women would increase the city’s revenue, and had legalized human trafficking. The first ones to be auctioned off had been women in poverty-stricken areas. Mothers had sold their daughters for a few bills, knowing that their children would be the wives of wealthy old men. That had been decades ago, even before Kristoff’s father had been born. Now everything was far more organized and the only females that were used in the auctions were ones that were bred and raised for such a thing.

  At twenty years old they were put on the block and stripped for all prospective buyers to appraise. The women knew what they were getting into, and as far as Kristoff knew they relished the idea of it. Although, what did he know? He had only gone to the auctions once and didn’t converse with the circle of affluent gentlemen that delighted in inspecting the females like they were slabs of meat.

  Kristoff’s mother had been a virgin in the auctions, and although his father was two decades older than she had been, they had grown to love one another. He remembered the first and only time he had ventured there and bought a wife: His father had convinced him to go, given the fact he was already thirty-three and still wasn’t wed. Grandchildren were all his father could talk about. When he had seen Macie on the bidding block, everything else had faded away. They had tried for five years to conceive and…No, he wouldn’t think about that, not when his evening would consist of attending the annual auction and choosing another bride. He had to move on. It wasn’t healthy for him to live in the past. He would go tonight, but that didn’t necessarily mean he had to purchase a female. Thirty-eight was young considering a lot of the men that attended were his father’s age.

  Turning in his seat to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the entire wall behind his desk, Kristoff stared at the skyscrapers. He was thirty-six floors up and there were buildings that towered over his own. He reached for his glass of scotch and brought the crystal to his lips. The sky above was a murky grey, an impending storm threatening to wash away the stink and grime of the city below.

  “Master St. Michaels?” His assistant’s voice rang through the room, and he turned back around.

  “Yes?” Taking another sip of the liquor, he started sifting through the files again.

  “Master Woodworth would like to know about rescheduling the investment meeting from tomorrow morning to this evening.”

  Brunettes, redheads, and every color in-between graced the top of his desk. It was amongst the pile of women that a flash of golden honey shone through. Pushing away the other photos, he picked up the one that caught his attention. The young woman that stared back at him was stunning. She had a wreath of golden hair that fell in soft waves around her face. Her eyes, so big and a vibrant blue, looked like the Morning Glory flowers that crept up the side of his home.

  “No, Meshell. I have plans for this evening.” He ran his finger across the soft line of her jaw. He hadn’t been interested in a woman since Macie, but staring at this woman, one that would be at the auctions tonight, called out to the possessive male inside of him. Maybe his broken heart could be mended by a twenty-year-old virgin with big blue eyes?

  ****

  The minimum to attend the virgin auctions was earning six figures a year. If a man didn’t earn at least that, then there was no way they would be permitted to even enter the establishment. The last time Kristoff attended, the minimum going rate for a virgin was fifty thousand dollars. That had only been five years ago, but Kristoff had heard the price had almost doubled since then. Stepping up to the heavily guarded entrance he held his hand out, palm up, as the security officer ran the identification scanner over his palm. The device was a technologically sophisticated piece of equipment. Not only would it reveal his name and all personal and relevant information, it also secured the admission fee to enter the facility.

  The burly man blocking the entrance nodded in acknowledgment and stepped to the side, opening the door for Kristoff to enter. “Welcome, Master St. Michaels. Enjoy your evening.”

  The first thing he saw upon entering was the large wooden stage in the center of the opulent room. Velvet drapes hung like dripping black ink. The stage was glossed to perfection. An attendant scanned his hand once again and led him to his seat. Kristoff didn’t miss the fact many of the men in attendance stopped their conversations to stare at him. He knew the rumors that were still circulating around the city about Macie’s death, even years later. Kristoff also knew a lot of the men that attended these auctions could be cruel to their young and innocent brides. By contrast he had been gentle and comforting with Macie, traits that were frowned upon by many o
f the men that ran in the same circles as he did. His watch showed the auction would start momentarily, and that was confirmed when the lights dimmed and the others took their seats.

  The first virgin to step on the stage was a beautiful woman with café au lait skin and large breasts that were hardly restrained by the thin, almost transparent white robe she wore. There were hushed murmurs from the men around him that spoke of lascivious things. The woman stopped in the center of the stage, her head lowered and her hands clasped behind her back. She was the perfect specimen of what a virgin bride should be: Docile, submissive, and eager to please. When the attendant finished displaying the young woman’s assets, the bidding started. The auction was silent, with prospective buyers entering their interest into the small bidding panels attached to the armrests of their seats. Although the woman was undeniably beautiful, she was not the one he had come here for.

  Woman after woman graced the stage as Kristoff sat patiently. When the announcer finally said her name, the girl he’d been waiting for, he felt his blood rush through his veins. Veronica Dubois. It was a name that had his cold and broken heart beating wildly again. She stepped tentatively onto the stage. Her head was lowered and her hands clasped in front of her. The men around him started speaking adamantly and Kristoff knew that he wasn’t the only one that had seen something special in her. His fists clenched as he heard the man beside him speak in a hushed tone about the filthy things he could do to her. They were vile, sadistic creatures that got more pleasure out of inflicting pain on these innocent beauties than experiencing a relationship that would last the rest of their lives. It wasn’t uncommon for them to buy a handful of virgin brides, creating their own harem for the sole purpose of finding as much selfish pleasure as they could. It was a disgusting display of their power and the true nature of their souls.