The Modern Fairy Tale Collection

by Aria Cole

  “Nice.” Her eyes appraised my legs until she arched a brow at the top of my thighs. “No underwear allowed. Didn’t you get the instructions?” she purred and hooked a finger in the elastic of my panties.

  “Yes, I just thought I could take them off once I arrived here.” It took all the grit I had to slide the cotton down my legs and reveal myself to her.

  “You’re very well taken care of, aren't you?”

  “I was just waxed two days ago,” I said simply. Judy hadn’t wanted any redness for my unveiling tonight. I had to be the walking embodiment of physical female perfection. I’d nearly cringed when she’d said it. Nothing like being reminded that you're only good for one thing in this life. My virtue was Judy’s pot of gold. The realization made a tremor of pain roll through my system.

  “Perfect. Well, your hair looks good.” She twisted a lock through her fingers. “Nice and soft, that’s a bonus. Your make-up is flawless. I have to say, I usually get girls that I have to do the full makeover for. You’re perfect.” Her eyes gleamed then, and some small part of me shone at her praise.

  “So let’s talk details.” She pulled me up by my elbow, hovering close to me as if confiding like a girlfriend.

  “What do I have to do?” I asked meekly.

  “This will be a little different from what we normally do. Usually there’s an auction and a small group of our preferred clientele will meet and spend a few minutes with each asset, then they offer a price and it’s either accepted or not. Now, our company is set apart because we require a reserve. Our clientele is private—non-disclosure agreements must be signed to protect both parties. But Mr. Strong has requested something different. It’s up to him to work out the details with you, but I must tell you, once you’re sold, you must follow his instructions. Your name is on a binding contract, and while most of our contracts have a short duration, three months is the maximum we’ve allowed in the past, but Mr. Strong has asked for two years,” she added, her hand pressing at my elbow.

  “Two years?” I nearly choked, my brain filling with all the reasons why that wouldn’t work. How could I get out? How could I save Julian and Grant and Mason? I was signing my life over to this man.

  “Yes, well, the flipside to the long contract is he’s offering a very handsome deal.” Her eyes held mine as if imploring me to listen, to hear her out. “I know you’ve been through a lot, Eve. All the girls that come through my door have, but you’re being offered an opportunity. It won’t be easy, Strong seems to be a very headstrong man, but the reward will be sweet. You just have to be committed, and you’re smart.” She smiled then. “I can see it in your eyes.” Her smile turned down as she dusted a fingertip across my jawline. “Smart, young, and beautiful, with a stubborn fire burning bright. You’re perfect.

  “And if you need anything at all, I’m always here to support you. We send you off, but that doesn't mean you can’t call me. You’ll always have my number in the event of any trouble. You are my first priority, okay?” Her dark eyes warmed my scared little heart. Could I do this? I no longer had a choice. At least she didn’t have the stench of desperation like Judy did. For this woman, I was only a business transaction. No hatred burned in her eyes. She didn’t look like she wanted to destroy everything in her wake.

  “Now about that name. You’ll have to choose a new one. Eve dies here. If you decide you want your ID back after the contract is up, you’re welcome to it. But I have to tell you, I find a lot of the girls embrace the new persona they’ve created. Most don’t come back for their ID,” she whispered, as if that was proof of the great success of the business. “Come with me. We’ll freshen up that make-up and find a new name for you. What about Allie? You look like an Allie to me.”

  She chattered on as she walked me down another long hallway. Allie. Could I be an Allie? Could I leave Eve and her terror-filled past at the door and embrace a new, stronger, confident woman to carry me through into my future?

  “I like Allie.” I smiled when I slid into the make-up chair. Allie felt young and fresh, without the emotional burden Eve had come to carry.

  Shoshanna’s eyes caught mine in the mirror, twinkling with delight as she pulled a tube of dark red lipstick from her vanity. “Good. Me, too.” She winked. And so started my transformation into Allie Cameron, high-end call girl.

  Chapter 3

  Eve

  Pushing my palms down the sides of my sequined dress, I refrained from yanking up the neckline that Shoshanna had insisted on pulling down. An accentuated bustline commands a higher bid, she’d claimed. I’d cringed, but recognized the truth in the words as I stepped into the dimly lit room, a handsome velvet settee and single stuffed leather chair in the corner. Obviously meant for intimate conversation, or more. There was also a small pedestal in the middle of the space. I was instructed to stand on it until I was told otherwise.

  I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes landing on the raised platform six inches off the floor, and my stomach nearly fell between my feet. I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling like my feet were weighted with cement blocks as I took each step, before I perched on the pedestal and waited. I laughed ruefully, remembering when I was a child and preoccupied with the injustice of the animals held behind bars at the zoo. I remembered crying about birds confined in their cages, unable to spread their wings and fly free. Now here I was in my own prison, a prison that stripped me of my childhood and put a price on my freedom. How I wished I could go back to those days when my mother would hold me as she sang sweetly in my ear, promising the birds would fly free again someday. She always gave me hope, until my faith in the power of good was shattered when she was ripped from me one terrible night.

  I shifted on the platform, pulling myself from thoughts of the past. Mr. Strong was scheduled to be here in the next five minutes. I was told there was a two-way mirror and he was free to catch a glimpse of me before he even stepped in the room. I was at a disadvantage, on display for him to ascertain whether I would suit his needs and wants. His eyes roaming my form as I waited silently.

  My eyes scanned the room, taking in the luxury furnishings and dark walls. The idea of how high-powered men, men who walked the city streets and contributed to the world economy, preferred to get their kinks in dark rooms astounded me. And just what kinks were we talking about? I’d been fairly protected from the physical up until now, but would he ask me to hang from a cross from his ceiling? Tie me up in his basement and only let me out at night when he wanted my body? Maybe he would pass me around to all his business friends—was that the special arrangement? Suddenly, all the vilest scenarios danced in my head. These thoughts would pirouette and sashay their way from the darkest corners of my mind and consume my waking moments. I couldn’t be weak. These thoughts would ruin me if I allowed them, so with a deep breath I banished them, forcing them into oblivion.

  My eyes fell closed as I tried to focus on the positive, the strength I would need to get through this. How I would negotiate my own terms within this expensive long-term agreement. I couldn’t be at a man’s whim, it wasn't in me to be. I just hoped I would be blessed with a man who would embrace that, not fight against it. I didn’t have the energy to fight. I had to be clever.

  Just then, the soft snick of an opening door echoed in the room. My heart hammered in my chest as the energy instantly changed. It became charged with something white hot and vibrant. The hairs on my arms stood as the stranger took quiet steps into the room.

  Shoshanna had told me not to make eye contact unless I was spoken to. I did my best to relax under his heavy gaze, my eyes still lowered as I prayed, please let me get out of this alive. Please just give me a chance to make this better, save my boys, get us a little house surrounded by the beauty of nature. A place in which we would all feel safe and loved.

  Without a word, the stranger circled the small pedestal I stood on. My fists clenched and unclenched at my sides, I felt his energy bouncing off my skin as he leaned in, one finger landing on my jawline and forcing
my head to rise. I lifted my head but kept my eyes averted, unwilling to come to terms with my future just yet.

  “Age?” His dark voice boomed out and nearly sent me collapsing to the floor.

  A voice suddenly piped over a sound system. “She turned eighteen last week, sir.”

  He nodded, the fact seeming to confirm something for him. I nearly choked when the pad of his thumb dusted across the bow of my lips. “Look at me,” he instructed. I was surprised to find his voice low and smooth, it felt like butter melting across every sensitive nerve in my body. Something in his tone intrigued me.

  With my knees quaking and steel strengthening my spine, my eyes flashed open and my gaze rose to find his face. I sucked in a hasty breath as my nerves fried and exploded as I took in his appearance. Jesus, he was beautiful. Stunning in the dark light of the room, shadows playing across the sharp angles of his face, a sharp jawline covered in second-day stubble, and neatly shorn hair that was a little long and reckless on the top. Every smart cell in my body raged at me to turn away, to look down, to cut the invisible threads knitting between us, but I couldn’t.

  I stood motionless, much like a deer caught in the bright light of a high beam. I couldn’t bring myself to respond, I couldn’t bring myself to betray the anger that had been boiling through my veins just moments before. I shouldn’t be intrigued by him, showing interest threw my plan straight out the window.

  “Do you know why I’m here?” He interrupted my thoughts. My startled eyes landed on his calculating ones, trained on me with an intensity I’d never felt from any man before, not the hungry looks from Momma Judy’s scummy boyfriends, not the desperate shame of the men behind computer screens at home. This man owned his presence. This man dominated the room. He was a terrifying and beautiful example of everything a woman craved and feared. I’d never met anyone so utterly appealing.

  “Yes,” I struggled to reply, croaking out the word when his gaze flared. His teeth ground together as he looked me up and down one more time.

  “Good.” He clipped and before I could register what had happened, he’d left the room, leaving me standing breathless and confused on the pedestal. The tension in my muscles eased with relief at his departure, until I realized his departure may signal his rejection.

  Didn’t he like me? What had I done? Was it my age? Something else? I was surprised to find the intriguing stranger’s rejection stung despite every other fear I had. But it wasn’t just the idea that I wasn’t good enough for him--the consequences of his decision would affect the boys. If he didn’t like me, I didn’t get the money, and I couldn’t save them.

  I twisted my hands together and sighed, my heart thudding erratically as I waited. And waited. My heels bit into my feet and my neck ached from standing for so long, so I finally said the hell with the rules and climbed down from the pedestal, settling awkwardly in the leather settee. It was set up directly across from the leather chair where he would be sitting right now if I hadn't disappointed him. Would he choose another girl? Would I then go on the auction block? Or worse, would they send me home to Judy?

  If anyone walked in right now and told me I had to go back to that house, I think I’d drop to my knees and beg them to let me stay. Ask them to find me another client. I’d do better, try harder, put on more make-up and a shorter dress, if that’s what it took. I owed it to the boys.

  “It’s done.” Shoshanna breezed in the room no less than thirty minutes after Mr. Strong had left so hastily, leaving me cold, rejected, and terrified.

  “Done?” I stood from the chair, feeling an uncomfortable sense of relief.

  “He’s writing the check now. You fetched a handsome number. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.” She smiled and patted my hand.

  “What does it matter to me?” I grumbled, thinking this was just the beginning of a new life. Tonight I would go home with that handsome, brooding stranger and I had no idea what to expect.

  “But the more you make for the company, dear, the more you’re worth. So far, you’re our most valued asset.” Her eyes gleamed as she locked her fingers with mine and pulled me from the room.

  A valued asset? I cringed. Better than being the valued whore back home. Now I just had to hope and pray that Mr. Strong was as kind and gentle as I so desperately needed for any of my plan to work.

  Shoshanna escorted me out of the dim room and down a long corridor that twisted and turned until we finally reached the same office I’d been escorted into a few hours ago by my evil foster mother, and now I was being escorted out by the hands of another person who had laid claim to me.

  Shoshanna opened the door wide and stepped through, standing to one side and gesturing for me to enter. When I did, I felt his eyes on me instantly. Searching the room, I found him standing in a corner, a snifter of liquor in one hand, his other hand shoved deep in his pocket. A celebratory drink.

  “You were lovely tonight, Allie.” The man in charge from earlier reached for my palm and placed a soft kiss on the knuckle.

  “I’d like to introduce you to Asher Strong. He’s quite enthusiastic about spending time with you.” The man’s eyes twinkled as they watched me turn to Mr. Strong.

  I swallowed the fear and looked him directly in the eye, extending a hand. “I’m afraid we weren’t properly introduced earlier. Lovely to meet you.” I said the words with a saccharine bite.

  Asher’s eyes flared for an instant as they dipped from my full, painted red lips, then back to my eyes. His gaze narrowed for a minute before he extended his hand and took mine. His touch was softer than I’d imagined. His eyes cut across the room and said so much behind the dark and intimidating gaze, but his hand was gentle, his touch respectful. He immediately removed his tux jacket and wrapped it around me, buttoning it up. His eyes quickly touched upon my bare cleavage, and his nostrils flared. “Grab me a scarf,” he ordered. The next thing I knew, one was draped across my chest, hiding every piece of exposed flesh.

  My heart sped to a gallop when he raised my hand and placed a kiss at the top of my knuckles. “It’s a pleasure,” he murmured against my skin and sent flames all along my milky white flesh. My breathing picked up as I pulled away from his electric touch.

  “I think we’ve made a good match today,” Clancy commented, then lifted the glass from Asher’s hands. Asher barely noticed, his own dark gaze still burning up the distance between us. “One of my guards will see you out,” he said, and his words seemed to snap Asher from his thoughts. “Good luck, Allie. I think you'll need it,” he added with dark amusement before Asher put a hand at the curve of my back and escorted me from the office, through the hallway, and out into the sunlight of my new life.

  Chapter 4

  Asher

  With my palm placed at her back, I walked calmly through the parking lot to my Mercedes and controlled every urge I had to run back in that building and gouge the eyes out of every man that had stood there and craved a piece of this girl’s innocence. Everything about her was as radiant and pure as new-fallen snow.

  This one was mine. I couldn’t wait to show her what that meant.

  We reached the shiny onyx of my car, and I opened the door for her, allowing her to slide in before buckling the seat belt and securing it tightly at her waist. Her sparkly dress inched up her thighs, my vision averting quickly to land on her gaze.

  “I can buckle my own seat belt,” she said without emotion. This girl had been through so much it broke my heart.

  But not anymore. That was all in the past. Today she was mine.

  “Don’t want you running off on me.” I gave her a rakish wink, hiding my true thoughts from her. She couldn’t know the impact she had on me. She didn’t need to know that seeing her in that room, standing there on the pedestal with fear on her face, had been like a cannonball to my gut. My knees had nearly failed me. I’d walked with quiet steps, my eyes crawling up the smooth curves of her body, the thick, jet black curls floating down her back, a radiant contrast with the creamy white of her
porcelain skin.

  And then I’d come to her face. Sweet Jesus, the angle of her cheekbones, the fullness of her rosy pink lips drew me in, and the spark in her eyes undid me. This girl was a survivor. This girl would be a challenge. This girl was everything I’d been craving and so much more. This girl was mine to love, to protect, to devour inch by inch until we melted into the abyss together.

  I slid behind the wheel and pulled out of the lot, unwilling to make small talk. I hated small talk, found it useless. I liked details, information, logic. I wanted to know what really mattered, and right now, that was her.

  “Have you ever been abused?” I asked as my hands clutched the wheel, praying for her to answer in the negative. The questionnaire asked this, and she’d reported no, but deals like this relied on false information and shady contacts, I needed to know from her. Allie’s eyes turned to the window and she watched the world fly by. “I need the truth, Allie.”

  She finally shook her head, biting down on her lip. Damn that lip. I adjusted in my seat, thinking restraint would be the biggest challenge of all with her. “I’ve never been physically abused,” she answered quietly, emotionless again.

  So emotionally and verbally abused.

  Damn those fuckers for getting to her like that. Damn the failed system that let her live in that rotten house with that despicable woman who only used her and threw her away to the highest bidder. My vision went red with revenge. How had I not known? How hadn’t I at least anonymously requested a house visit from social services to ensure she was living a healthy and happy life?

  And what if I hadn’t have finally gotten ahold of her address in the months leading up to her eighteenth birthday? What if I hadn’t have noticed her foster mother making repeated trips to that warehouse on the shady side of town? What if one of the other clients had been the one to buy her? I assumed most of those men were monsters. I made a vow right then to do what I could to take down the escort service. I couldn’t handle the thought of any other woman victimized. It had taken every inch of control in me not to pummel those assholes where they stood, but I knew if I had, I wouldn’t have been able to save her, my girl.