by Penelope Sky
I created an invisible ripple, and anyone in my way immediately stepped aside. I seemed to emit a high-frequency pitch that surrounded me on all sides. People could hear it without even realizing it. They stepped back, giving me more space than necessary.
The black walls were covered with pictures of my models wearing the sexy clothes. Some featured diamonds, other lace, but in every single photo, the piece of lingerie was specifically designed for them. My job was to make the perfect ensemble for every woman, treating each individual on a personal level. Every woman had a different body type, and each one was beautiful in her own way.
“Here’s your scotch, sir.” A man appeared from the shadows with my drink on a tray. “Carter is waiting for you on the second landing.”
I took the glass. “Thank you.”
He disappeared just as quickly as he’d appeared.
I moved to the stairs and felt every pair of eyes fall on me. Women admired me with lust, and men despised me with jealousy. But every single person in that building had to bow to my power.
I owned all of them—and they didn’t even realize it.
I reached the second landing and spotted Carter sitting in a corner booth. A woman was under each arm as he sat back in the leather seat, an enormous picture of Lacey Lockwood positioned on the wall behind him. She was my biggest model, the one people recognized the most. She had the right confidence and the perfect legs. She wanted to be my biggest star—and most people predicted she would be.
Carter didn’t see me coming because he was too busy with his private entertainment. The blonde on his left rubbed her hand across his chest then nibbled on his earlobe. The other woman rubbed his thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch. Both were in my lingerie, sparkling with rhinestones and glitter.
I sat in the leather seat across from him, setting down my scotch and leaning back into the comfortable seat. Without checking my surroundings, I could feel all the eyes staring at me. It would be less than a minute before a couple girls made their move and sank into the seat beside me. They would assume they were special, that maybe they had a unique quality that could capture my attention for more than five minutes.
Not possible.
My entire existence revolved around sexy women. I dressed them in clothes for the purpose of getting fucked. I fulfilled the fantasies of men everywhere by incorporating them into my designs. I dressed women like Lacey Lockwood in the perfect bodysuit with a crotch that unfastened for a quick screw. All I thought about all day long was sex…with beautiful women.
I’d become desensitized to it.
It was impossible to impress me anymore. Women were all the same, but beautiful in their own ways. Sex was purely physical without a single hint of emotion. I kept it empty on purpose because that fueled my inspiration.
Men didn’t care about love, only lust.
So I had to design my lingerie that way.
The only exception to that was the new model I’d recently acquired.
Ten.
There was something unique about her that drew my attention instantly. When the ten models took the stage, the other nine were faceless blurs. They were beautiful but ordinary. They were the top ten picks from my trusted assistants, but they paled in comparison to the single woman standing at the very edge.
Ten.
I wouldn’t say she was exceptionally beautiful. Her allure was far deeper than some superficial characteristic. But she possessed a quality that stole my complete focus. She had the same effect on the guys—that was why they picked her in the first place. Jeans and a t-shirt couldn’t mask her innate sex appeal.
Her body was unique. The proportion between her hips and her stomach was significant, making her curves even more startling. She had lean and toned thighs, but her ass was plump and juicy. She was endless curves, smooth skin, and the most sensuous woman I’d ever seen. The curve in her back was so steep it looked like the concave side of a spoon. Making clothes with her specific dimensions felt like an honor.
I’d never seen a woman with her kinds of measurements. It was like she was specifically made to wear lingerie, to be the ultimate symbol of female sexuality.
When that woman overran my thoughts, I forced myself to focus on Carter.
Carter broke the kiss he was sharing with one of the girls and dropped his arm. “I need to take care of some business, ladies.”
The blonde gave his thigh a tight squeeze before she walked away with the other girl. Their lingerie shimmered under the low lights, and their heels tapped against the floor until they were no longer in hearing distance. The music wasn’t loud in this section, which was intentional. It was the best place to do business.
Carter wore a black suit with a matching tie. His dark hair was identical to mine, and he inherited the coffee-colored eyes of his mother. He hadn’t shaved for a few days, and now a shadow covered the bottom part of his face. We looked so similar that people mistook us for brothers on a daily basis. “I heard you have a new girl.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“The girls.”
Every model I had obsessed over who would get the biggest spotlight. Who would be on the cover of Vogue? Who would be my grand finale in the fashion show? Who would be the inspiration for my next piece? They all competed for my affection, trying to touch me in the right way or say the perfect words to capture my attention.
Maybe they were just trying to get ahead in their career.
Or maybe they just wanted to be my muse.
I didn’t give a damn because it didn’t matter.
No woman would ever mean anything to me.
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do with her yet.”
“Is she being featured in the show next weekend?”
“Maybe.” She still needed a lot of work. Her posture was better, but once she lost focus, she dropped her shoulders and slouched forward. She was a bit of a conundrum because she exhibited intense confidence when she talked back to me or told off some of my men, but when it came to modeling, she closed up tighter than a clam. When her clothes were off, she was even more beautiful.
But she felt uneasy.
It didn’t make sense.
It was the first time I’d had a model who lacked enthusiasm. Ten couldn’t care less about the opportunity. She didn’t kiss the ground I walked on. She had no problem calling me an asshole to my face.
It was an interesting change.
The only reason why she was there was because she needed the work to survive.
She didn’t give a damn about me.
Maybe that was what caught my attention.
Carter drank his gin then lit his cigar. “I heard she auditioned fully clothed.”
“That’s what I was told.”
“She sounds interesting.”
“She has a bit of a mouth on her.”
“For sucking, I hope.” He grinned before he inhaled from the cigar.
“Not that kind of mouth.”
“Too bad. That’s the best kind.” He took another drag before he set the burning cigar on the tray. His ankle rested on the opposite knee, and he leaned back as he glanced at the women hanging out on the balcony.
“How’s the car business?”
“No complaints. Not quite as sexy as your enterprise, but still great.” Carter was a designer and producer of luxury cars in Italy. He sold his cars all over Europe and exported a few to the US if people were willing to pay the right price. We worked in very different sectors of business, but it benefited us both sometimes.
“Working on anything new?”
“I’m always working on something new.” He drank his gin again then wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. His suit was as expensive as mine, but he was so wealthy he didn’t bother taking care of it. “But enough with the small talk. We’ve got business to take care of.”
I rested my arm over the back of the couch and rested my ankle on the opposite knee. “I’m listening.”
“
Ten million.” He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He massaged his knuckles as he stared at me with his coffee-colored eyes. His skin was fair, which contrasted more against his dark hair and eyes. His Italian blood was obvious, as was mine.
That was one of the biggest sums we’d ever been offered. “Who is she?”
“The daughter of some wealthy investor out in California. I guess his net worth is nearly a billion dollars.”
Nearly? Well, mine was over a billion dollars. “He can’t handle this himself?”
“The Skull Kings are crazy. I advised them against it.”
They were indeed crazy. They brought a whole new definition to the word. They were unpredictable and ruthless. They started as arms dealers, but when that didn’t satisfy their greed and bloodlust, they turned to trafficking instead. Now they captured desirable women from happy families—because they got off on it. They sold them at the Underground and made a fortune.
“This is getting dangerous, Carter. These guys are mad, but not stupid. They’ll figure out what we’re doing eventually.”
“And what are they going to do?” he asked incredulously. “We’re both untouchable.” He brought the cigar to his mouth and took a deep drag. “And we aren’t undermining their operation. They make the money. It’s none of their business what we do with the girls once they’re our property.”
“They might think we’ll turn them in.”
“Turn them in to whom?” Carter asked incredulously. “The feds? We both know they won’t do shit. Those psychopaths are untouchable. They know we aren’t stupid enough to declare war against them. Besides, this is a business for us too. I’m not doing this shit out of the goodness of my heart. I’m doing this because it’s easy money—and tax-free.”
There was a lot of money on the table. Carter and I had split fifty million dollars two ways a couple of times. As a billionaire, I didn’t need more money. But when cash was that easy to get, I wouldn’t look the other way. “Then you go to the Underground and bid on her.”
“You know I can’t. It has to be you.”
When I bought the girls, I turned them into models for a few shows. Once they were finished, they were released back to their families. The Skull Kings thought I just had a weird fetish for slaves, and I was parading my property in front of the world because I thought I was above the law.
But once the girls did their time, they were sent back to their families. It was the only way to extract them without risking their necks and ours. The Skull Kings had more important things to worry about, so after a few weeks, they were on to the next batch of slaves they wanted to sell.
“Like I said, we can’t do this forever,” I said. “Our fathers warned us what these guys were like. I don’t think we should take that lightly.”
“I don’t take it lightly,” Carter said. “But I’m not a pussy either.”
I finished my scotch, letting the amber liquid slide right down to my belly.
“Besides, if we don’t do this, who will? You know what will happen to those girls.”
They’d be raped, tortured, and then burned alive. Women like that didn’t become pets of good men. They became punching bags of men who wanted to exercise power over their enemies. When a deal went south, taking their enemy’s daughter seemed to be the most effective form of revenge.
But the girls had nothing to do with it.
“I think we should have someone else do the bidding.” We had loyal men that had been working for us for decades. It didn’t take a genius to bid on a woman until they won her. “That way we no longer have to be involved in it.”
“You know that won’t work. They want faces. They want identities of rich and famous men. By taking away anonymity, it keeps everyone in line. It keeps it legitimate. They don’t just let anyone in there. If you send someone in your place, they’ll think it’s suspicious. And that will be our downfall.”
Wealthy men in our inner circles actually believed I bought slaves for pleasure. I had so much cash that I spent it on eccentric things, like people. Selling lingerie and treating women like objects complemented that belief very well.
Even though it was completely false.
I already had more power than most men. I didn’t need to buy a slave to feel powerful.
I already was powerful.
“Are you in?” Carter asked.
If I refused, this woman would suffer and die. It was a matter of life or death. I couldn’t let that guilt weigh me down. “You know I am.”
“Great.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his back pocket and opened it up so I could see it. “Anastasia Purkov. She’s the daughter of a Russian investor. She went to the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon and never came home. She had just been selected for the Russian ballet when she went missing. Her father got in touch with my people, and that’s how I received his message.” He pointed at her picture. “She’s a beauty.”
With dark brown hair and blue eyes, she was definitely eye-catching. If a woman was attractive, it was even more likely she was captured for trafficking.
“Her father pissed off one of his clients in Budapest. I think that guy commissioned the Skull Kings to do this.”
It was disgusting. Men paid other men to capture an innocent woman just to piss off their enemy. And then that woman was sold for another profit so she could be a slave. Then she was purchased for a third time—by us. The amount of money being spent on a human life was horrific—just because of the pussy between her legs. “When is the auction?”
“Tomorrow night.”
I folded the paper and stuffed it into my pocket. “I’ll get her.”
“Put her in your lineup for the next show. Then we can give her back.”
Anytime I rescued a slave and told them what was going on, they were silent and cooperative. They didn’t talk to the other models, and usually kissed the ground I walked on. When I returned them to their families, the fathers were always crying the hardest. “Alright.”
Carter smoked his cigar again. “Who knew being a hero could make us so much money?”
“We aren’t heroes,” I said coldly. “Real heroes don’t get paid.”
“Money or no money, without us, those girls would never get out.”
“And what about all the rest?” I asked. “We leave them to their fate just because they don’t have a rich family member to buy them out.”
“Even if they did, you know we can’t save them all. If you bought every slave in the joint, the Skull Kings would definitely be onto us.”
Saving an innocent woman for a paycheck didn’t make me feel like a good man. There was nothing noble about what we were doing. We were both greedy, and there was no sugarcoating that fact.
“Tomorrow, then?” Carter knew I already agreed to the terms, but he must have picked up on the hesitancy in my voice.
“Tomorrow.”
* * *
I walked to my building in the dead of night alone. I didn’t take a woman home with me because I wasn’t in the mood. I could have had any woman in that club that I wanted, but nothing interested me that night.
I made the call and placed the phone against my ear.
Innocent and beautiful, she answered. “It’s one in the morning, Conway.”
I sighed in relief even though there was no real reason to be scared. The sound of her voice was the greatest assurance that I needed. She meant more to me than I ever told her, and the idea of someone taking her the way so many other women were captured made me sick to my stomach. She was the only woman in the world who turned me into a gentleman. Only when she was present did I behave. “Are you home?”
“It’s one in the morning on a Tuesday. I’m sleeping, obviously.”
My little sister was a grown woman, but I would always see her as a little kid. She was living in Milan because she was studying to be a painter. She went to a fancy art school on my parents’ money. Since my parents lived in Tuscany, they were a five-hour drive away. I was
the eldest son of my family, so it was my job to look after her. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“You don’t need to check on me, Conway. If I need something, I’ll ask.”
“You’re too stubborn to ask for anything. We both know that.”
She sighed into the phone again. “Can I call you tomorrow? I have to be up at sunrise.”
“We both know you aren’t going to call me.”
“Well, call me tomorrow, then.” She hung up before I could get another word in.
My paranoia got the best of me, and I acted on my fear too easily. My sister was a beautiful woman, taking after my mother with a few attributes from my father. When I was growing up, my father never let her do anything alone. He watched her like a hawk constantly. When she moved away for school, I’d never seen him so shaken up about it. It was hard for him to let go.
But I realized it was even harder for me to let go.
Now I was as protective as he’d ever been, especially in this cruel world. Women were treated like dogs, sometimes as currency.
I never wanted her to know that.
There was a deep underworld right outside her door—but she was too innocent to see it.
* * *
Ten walked in the door right on time, her hair and makeup done. She was in jeans and a t-shirt, the typical attire I’d always seen her wear. Her hair was thick and curled, framing her face perfectly and accentuating her features.
I was standing at my table with my sketchbook.
She stepped inside the room and immediately undressed.
I didn’t even have to tell her to this time.
I looked up from my notebook, and I took her in her beautiful skin. It was unblemished and unmarked. Perfectly smooth and polished, she had the skin of a doll. Her complexion only enhanced the curves of her gorgeous figure. With a tiny waist I could wrap my hands around and an ass that looked plump, she was nothing but perfection. The fact that she achieved such beauty with no effort made her even more of a goddess.
