by Madison Faye
A laugh tittered through the crowd.
“No previous ownership. She comes as is, with no formal training, and tonight, we start the bidding at one-hundred thousand. Mr. Jorry, if you would?”
Behind me, the Brit chuckled, and I shivered, straining against collar as I felt his hand pull at my arms, forcing them to drop to my sides.
“Best keep them there if you’re smart,” he husked into my ear.
And just like that, I was standing in just lacy, see-through black lingerie in front of a room full of strange men.
Oh my God.
And suddenly the reality of all this came starkly into focus. Suddenly, everything about it hit me that I really was on the auction block, ready to be sold to one of the men in this room.
I heard a cough, and I glanced over to see Ryan, off to one side and grinning as he raised a hand.
“Wonderful,” the voice purred. “One hundred thousand, from Mr. Cunningham. And do I hear—”
Another hand raised behind him.
“Excellent, one-hundred and fifty thousand to Mr. Trussel.”
“Two hundred thousand,” Ryan growled, shifting in his chair and scowling.
The man behind him coughed again. “Three hundred.”
“Still mad about last month, Trussel?” Ryan smirked as he turned back and lifted a hand. “Four hundred thousand.”
And just like that, I watched my fate start to play out between two male egos. I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins, my body freezing bit by bit as the price climbed higher, and the two men grew more irate with each other.
“Nine-hundred thousand,” the voice said quietly.
Ryan smirked, glancing back at Mr. Trussel, who shook his head.
“Mr. Cunningham always gets his way, luv,” Jorry chuckled into my ear, still standing behind me on the stage, holding my collar.
“Going once?” The voice questioned. “Twice.”
“One million.”
My eyes snapped up at the voice.
The voice I knew.
I gasped as the blonde man, of the trio, locked his eyes to mine. He grinned hungrily.
“One million.”
“Well then,” the woman’s voice sounded surprised. “Mr. Lawson, topping Mr. Cunningham at one million.”
Jorry chuckled in my ear. “Oh, sweetheart,” he clucked his tongue. “You’ve got them three bidding on you now. Now them?” He chuckled again. “Them you don’t want.”
My eyes went wide.
“You see, them three, they work as a team, you might say. A three-man team.”
I swallowed thickly.
“If they get you?” He whistled lowly. “Oh, will they break you in.”
Something tightened inside of me, my body shivering, and I wasn’t sure if it was horror or…well, something else that flickered through me at the thought of those three powerful men from the club taking me.
Owning me.
Breaking me in.
Ryan’s face turned savage as he glared across the shadowed room at the blonde man. “One point one million.”
“One point two.” The dark haired, blue-eyed man who Ryan had referred to as “Blackwood” earlier, raised his hand.
Ryan fumed. “One five, you pricks.” He growled before turning and letting his eyes burn into me.
The third man, the one with the brooding darkness surrounding him, suddenly rose.
“I’m tired of this.”
My heart sank, before I realized how silly it was that I’d somehow been hoping they won. As absurd as it was, during the bidding, I’d been secretly hoping Ryan lost. There were three of them, that I knew. And I knew they scared me, and that the power they seemed to wrap themselves in sent shivers of something terrifying through my body.
But I also knew if Ryan won this, and me, I was done for. I’d never see my family again, that I knew for sure, just by looking at him.
The third man shook his head. “Yes, I’m tired of this.”
Ryan grinned triumphantly.
“So I’m going to stop this now.” His smiled darkly at Ryan before he turned his eyes to me.
All three of them did, and I felt myself melt under those dark, fierce gazes.
“Two million.”
Oh, God.
Ryan’s jaw dropped as he sputtered. “Two point on—”
“Two and a half,” the blonde man, Lawson, said effortlessly before turning to smile thinly at Ryan. “We can do this all night, Cunningham.”
There was a chuckle through the crowed, and Ryan’s face turned dark red. “This isn’t fair,” he hissed. “There are fucking three of—”
“And yet, you’re the one who brought her into this,” the dark-haired, dark-eyed, yet-unnamed third man growled at him before glancing up into the dark ceiling of the room, as if addressing the bodiless announcer’s voice somewhere up there. “Are we done here?”
There was a long pause, and silence.
“The bid is two point five million,” she finally said, devoid of emotion. “Do I hear two-six?”
Ryan fumed, muttering under his breath and kicking at his chair.
“Going once.”
“You fucking cocksuckers, I swear to God—”
“Going twice.”
Ryan sat.
“Sold.”
The room spun, and I felt as though I might pass out as the word cut through me like a knife.
Sold.
I looked up, only to see the three of them standing, their eyes locked on mine. I could feel my pulse beating like a drum in my ears, my breath coming heavy as they approached and stopped before me.
Their eyes teased over me, standing there trying not to faint in the black lingerie, feeling their eyes burn right through me. I felt like they might devour me right there, and for a moment, I wondered if the breaking in would start right there on that stage.
Finally, Blackwood broke the spell.
“She’ll do,” he growled, his lips turning slightly up at the corners as his eyes narrowed at me.
I took a shaky breath, slowly shaking my head. “Please,” I whispered. “Please just—”
“Bring her to our place,” the dark-eyed man growled, his gaze drinking me in.
“We’ll be waiting.”
And with that, they — the men who’d just bought me like some sort of commodity — turned and prowled out of the room, the power and the energy still surrounding them like a tempest and tugging me after them.
“Oh, luv,” Jorry chuckled as he tugged on my collar. “Now you’re in for it.”
6
Oliver
“This was a bad idea,” Ash growled as we stepped into our study.
I closed the door behind us, turning to see Erik already pouring drinks over at the bar cart.
“You know we had to.”
“Two and a half mil?” Ash muttered, swearing under his breath.
I shrugged. “C’mon, like it matters.”
“It’s not the money.”
It was never about money with us. I suppose it had been once, back before we’d built ourselves into the men we were today. Back when we came from the streets, it was about money. Now? Well, now money was hardly an issue.
Now, there was no denying that all three of us were criminals. To be clear, we were not good men. We’d started small, but we’d quickly scaled into the underworld empire we were today. We sold arms, mostly, dabbling in smuggling, but it was the guns that paid the most. Our biggest client?
The U.S. Government, of course — they needed guys like us to buy and sell weapons with people they couldn’t be seen buying from or selling to.
We were damn good at what we did, and it paid very well.
So yeah, we’d come from nothing, building what we had now brick by brick. We’d risen up, we’d become rich.
And then Amy had happened, and it all changed. After that, something broke in us.
I looked away. “You know what would have happened if she stayed.”
Both
Erik and Ash looked down grimly.
Yeah, they knew. It was why we were in this whole thing. It was why we’d spent the last six months inserting ourselves into the whole fucked-up scene that had taken over at the Auction House.
You see, the Auction House had always catered to a certain element of the underworld — specifically, the rich element who looked for a certain measure of submission. It also catered a certain caliber of women — women who craved an equal measure of control. It’d been a good thing for a long time — in fact, the three of us had bid on, and won, women there before who became our playthings until they chose to leave.
Because that’s the thing — despite the dom/sub arrangements brokered at the Auction House, everything was on the level and more importantly, everything was consensual.
But change had happened. Somewhere up the underworld food-chain, there’d been some restructuring, and suddenly, the Cunninghams had taken over control of the actions.
And things had changed. Things had gotten not good.
The clientele had slowly changed, from men who wanted that extra edge in their lives to men who just wanted to hurt women. And the girls had changed, from the willing submissives to, well, the not so willing.
Or not willing at all.
Most of the former clientele had left, us included. Even with living in the shadows and being part of the criminal underworld, that sort of thing was nothing that interested us. A woman submitting — even one you had to train, and slowly dominate — was one thing. Forcing someone into that life though was beyond the pale.
That wasn’t domming and subbing, that was just slavery.
So we’d left the Cunninghams to do their own business, leaving the auctions behind us.
And then Amy had happened, and that’d been our tipping point. That’d been the point where we’d gone back to the Auction House, against every single one of our principles, in order to get in close.
And then we were going to kill both Ryan and his father, and burn their empire to the ground.
I gritted my teeth as I took the scotch Erik offered me, swallowing a healthy slug of it. I glanced up at my two friends. “You know what would have happened if he’d gotten her tonight.
Erik’s eyes narrowed as he nodded. “Yeah, man, we know.”
He didn’t have to say it out loud, because we all knew. She’d have been taken back to Cunningham’s penthouse, most likely beaten and abused, and then made to endure him using her body any way he pleased. And after he was done with her? Well, Ryan Cunningham had a disgusting reputation of letting his men have their way with his girls when he was done breaking them.
I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing back the rage of that man getting his hands on her.
On Mia.
I’d had one look at her in the club tonight, and I’d been undone. One look, and I was shattered — broken, hooked.
Obsessed, you might say.
And I knew my friends well enough to know for damn sure I wasn’t the only one.
“So now she’s ours,” Ash growled, swirling his drink around the glass in his hands.
“Careful,” Erik shook his head, pushing his hands though his blonde hair.
“You both know what I mean,” I muttered. “She stays here for now.”
Erik’s eyes narrowed at me. “We can’t just keep her here.”
“If she leaves, there’s nothing to stop Ryan from picking her up himself. Not to mention, they’ll know for damn sure we’re not what we say we are.”
“This is dangerous,” Ash said quietly.
“She’ll be fine here.”
“I mean for us.”
We looked at each other, and we knew. We knew her being here wasn’t just dangerous because of Cunningham, but because of who she was.
Gorgeous, fierce and yet delicate. A fighter, but somehow broken.
And I knew we’d all felt the immediate pull back in the club. I knew we’d all felt that primal need to protect her.
To keep her.
To claim her.
The three of us shared a lot — including women. But more than that, we shared certain kinds of women, in a very certain way. The way where we were in control, and the women were the kind that craved that control. The kind that submitted.
One look at Mia Thorne had told us one thing: we had to have her submission. And now she was here, our prisoner, for all intents and purposes. Locked away under lock and key, and at our mercy.
And Lord have mercy, we would have her sweet submission.
7
Mia
Coldness.
Darkness.
I shivered against the bed I was tied to.
After the men — whose names I barely even knew — had left the Auction House, Jorry had led me back into a side room. I’d been blindfolded, and a silken robe had been pulled over my shoulders before I’d been led to a waiting car. We’d driven for some time, and while at first, I’d tried to remember the lefts and the rights we’d taken, I’d quickly and bitterly swore at myself at how silly an idea that was. After all, I had no idea where in Manhattan I’d been, and as the drive stretched further and further, and as the sounds of the city dwindled behind, I gave up.
The car came to a stop, and strong hands had lifted me, brought me through a doorway, up a flight of stairs, and down a hallway to a room. When I’d felt the bed under me as they set me down, I’d gone ballistic. I kicked and screamed and fought like the devil before strong hands had yanked my arms to the side and tied them apart.
And then they’d left me like that — tied to the bed in my thin robe, for, well, I wasn’t sure how long.
I knew it was dark in the room — my blindfold was loose enough that I could glimpse around the edges and see that. I was still gagged though, and still tied.
The door suddenly opened with a click, and I froze. Footsteps approached, and I strained against the binds, before the voice spoke.
His voice.
“Struggling will get you nowhere.”
I pulled again at the binds, and I heard him sigh. “You’re welcome to continue, but I can promise you—”
There was a pause, and then I gasped as I felt his presence right next to me.
“I am quite good with knots,” he husked into my ear, sending a shiver through my body.
Finger’s brushed my cheek, slipping under the edge of my blindfold. “I’m going to take this off now.”
My heart flip-flopped at the voice in my ear. My mouth was dry, and I could hear the thumping of my own pulse in my ear, but I nodded.
Suddenly, I could see, and I gasped.
It was the man Ryan had called Blackwood — the man with the dark hair and those piercing blue eyes. And even here, in the somewhat small, dark bedroom, his presence and the power surrounding him seemed to envelop me and draw me in.
My eyes darted quickly around, taking in my surroundings. The room was elegant, if not sparse, and it was a four-poster bed that I was tied to. I shivered, and when I glanced down at myself, I realized my robe was barely covering me.
Alone, here in this room with this man.
I swallowed as I shuddered.
“Ms. Thorne.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, the suit he wore pulling tight at his broad-shouldered frame. “Let me explain where you are, and what is going on, since it’s painfully clear you are far from your element. My name is Oliver Blackwood, but you may call me sir. Nod if you understand.”
I swallowed thickly again, my eyes going wide as I nodded.
“Good girl.”
The words purred from his lips, those icy blue eyes of his sliding over me, and somehow making me blush despite the scenario.
“The ‘what’ I think you already know. You see, you belong to us now.” My eyes went wide as his squared, chiseled jaw pulled into a grin. “Me and my associates, that is. Now, I understand that you aren’t like most of the, shall we say acquisitions that used go on the block at the Auction House. You should know that most would
go there willingly, once they knew what was being offered — the experience they were being offered.”
Most come willingly?
I balked at the thought. What, there were women who wanted to get bought and auctioned off like livestock? I grit my teeth around the gag, my eyes narrowing and burning into him fiercely.
He chuckled. “She wasn’t wrong. You do come with fight.” His hand extended, the fingers grazing against my cheek. I jerked my head away, and he grinned.
“There it is.”
Oliver sighed, shaking his head as he pulled his hand back to stroke his strong jaw. “I’m aware that you did not arrive there willingly, and I know that pieces of human garbage like Ryan Cunningham believe rules do not apply to them. However, no matter the circumstances of how you got to that auction block, you were there, and now you are ours.”
Excuse me?
“And there are rules that go with that — rules you will learn to obey.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, straining against the binds at my wrists.
“Now, I’m going to take the gag off. You should know that no one can hear you anyways. Nod if you understand.”
I didn’t. I didn’t understand any of this — what had happened to me, where I was, the fact that I belonged to them now?
I shivered again, but slowly, I nodded just the same.
Oliver nodded, and pulled the gag out of my lips.
“Now then—”
I screamed. I screamed bloody fucking murder, straining at my blinds as I belted out for help.
Oliver just sighed, shaking his head.
Finally, I stopped, gasping for air
“Are you done?”
“Fuck you.”
His eyes blazed dark fire for a moment, and his jaw tightened. “You are welcomed to keep screaming until you lose your voice, Ms. Thorne, but I can promise you—” he leaned closer “—no one is going to hear you.”
I glared at him, panting. “You can’t just buy people! You can’t just keep me—”
“But we have.” He shrugged. “You being tied to this bed should sufficiently underscore that for you.”
