by SR Jones
“She can serve a traditional Japanese tea, yes. She also can do four or five different ceremonial dances. She speaks Greek and English fluently, and is conversant in Russian and Arabic.”
After the questions, the bidding begins. Each person has a numbered paddle by their place setting; they are black with the numbers in gold. Mine is twenty-nine.
“We are starting the bidding high, ladies and gentlemen, because as you can see, Star is an especially lovely specimen. Starting bids at ninety-thousand euros. Going up ten thousand.”
A paddle shoots up, and soon they are bidding away. When the bidding gets to three hundred thousand, the caller starts to move it up at twenty thousand euros each time.
I don’t raise my paddle, and as the number of people competing dwindles until only three are left in the bidding war, I can sense Stella getting tense by my side.
The third man, an elderly guy with hair so full of gel it shines silver under the lights, drops out with a sigh as the bids reach four hundred and sixty thousand.
Now there remains a man who looks Middle Eastern perhaps, and a pale haired, pale eyed man who has a florid complexion and a face like a fucking pig.
The pale haired man holds his paddle up and pushes the bidding up to four hundred and eighty thousand.
“Six hundred thousand.” I stand as I call out the amount, paddle in the air.
The pale man shakes his head and drops his paddle onto the table. Now there’s only me and the final man left in the bidding.
The other man raises his paddle and shouts out. “Seven hundred thousand.”
“Eight,” I say, and I purposefully sound bored. Let the fucker think I can do this all night.
The other man stares at me for a moment, turns to look at Star, looks to the woman sitting at his side, and she murmurs something in his ear. He shakes his head at the auctioneer.
“Sold, to number twenty-nine.” The auctioneer bangs his gravel.
“Congratulations, you just bought yourself a whole load of fun.” Alesso holds his glass of whiskey high and taps mine. We appear as if we’ve been putting back liquor all night, but we’ve hardly drunk a drop. I’ve been watching. Alesso has constantly lifted his glass to his lips but barely taken anything. He’s gone through the water, though. I’m presuming it’s because very shortly, he’ll be in a gun battle. As for me, I’ve sipped maybe twice at my drink and actually swallowed it, the rest has been pretense. I need to have my wits about me when I take the women back to the house.
I snigger, remembering the fact we’re being listened in on, and nod. “She better be fucking worth it.”
“Oh, I hear these women really are.” Justina smiles. “Maybe you’ll let Vadim here have a play?”
“Maybe, but probably not,” I drawl. “I like to keep my toys purely for myself.”
“I have a couple of questions I want to ask the man running this,” Alesso says. Sticking to the plan. It was always going to be Alesso or Andrius asking the question, and at the last minute they decided it would be Alesso. Two reasons, one is that Stuart most likely hasn’t heard of us, and won’t recognize Alesso, whereas he might recognize Andrius if he looks too closely at him, or starts talking to him. This would ruin the element of surprise. The second reason is the pragmatic one that Andrius is a wicked-good shot. Like supernaturally-accurate-with-a-gun levels of good shot.
“Oh, thinking of buying yourself another toy?” Justina says, keeping up the charade.
My gut is clenched, and I hate this whole experience. I don’t know why, but seeing that girl up there on that stage reminded me of the worst aspects of my childhood despite it being very different.
“Something like that, yes.” Alesso leans back in his chair and jerks the leash holding Stella, making her look at him. “Pet. I need to talk business, so you will travel back with Markos and his new friend, okay?”
“I think I’ll ride with you too, if you don’t mind. I’m tired, and you know the men when they get to talking business.” Justina gives a bored roll of her eyes.
“Why don’t we all go back, and you two make your own way?” Irina suggests to Alesso, and he nods.
“Sounds like a plan. You happy to wait around for me, Vadim?”
Andrius gives a lazy yes as his answer and takes out cigars, passing them round to the men in the group. I light mine, despite no desire for it.
“Would you please come with us?” Two men approach the table and stand either side of me. I give them a cool glance each, puff on my cigar, and nod as I blow the smoke out.
I have enough money in my account, thanks to everyone who chipped in, to transfer the money over right now, which is what will need to happen for me to take Star tonight. The two men lead me to a room, where Stuart is sitting behind a desk. He grins at me as I enter, and I force a shit-eating grin onto my face in return.
“Celebrating already, I see.” He points to the cigar, still held in my right hand, and I nod.
“Do you mind?” I hold it up.
“Not at all. I love the smell of a good cigar. I don’t smoke myself, but my partner did. It reminds me of them.”
He’s talking about Simon, the man Stella shot. I say nothing as I sit opposite him and take a puff on the cigar. Stuart clicks his fingers at the men. “Find an ashtray.”
“Yes, sir,” one replies, and goes off, presumably to hunt one down.
“You’ve outdone yourself with your purchase this evening. It’s unusual that someone who hasn’t been to our auctions before actually makes the cut and buys what’s on offer.”
I grin. “I’ve been thinking of doing this for a long time. My friend, he has a slave. Bought her a year or so ago, and he’s never been happier.”
“Do you mean the blonde at your table, the collared girl?”
I nod.
“She’s not with him willingly?”
I hesitate for a moment and give a sly smile. “She wasn’t, probably still isn’t, but she … responds to him. You train them well enough, you can own their responses, even their hearts, if not, sadly, their souls.”
“Wow, you don’t want much.” He giggles, and it’s oddly feminine in comparison to his patrician features. “I hope you don’t expect a refund if you don’t find Star giving her your soul.”
“No, her body and her willing compliance will be more than enough. Unlike my friend, I don’t want the challenge of having to break a slave in myself.”
“And that’s what you’re paying for. Oh, she’s a beautiful girl, but beautiful girls are hardly rare. This girl, she’s trained beyond anything you can get elsewhere. They’re not broken in, you see.”
His conversational turn has me stumped, and he must realize it because he carries on.
“When you take a woman, pluck her from her normal life, and make her into a slave, you have to break her. There’s no other choice. In breaking her, though, you take something essential away. Now, some men, they don’t mind that, don’t care; wouldn’t even notice. Connoisseurs, though, men like you and I, we would. Who wants blank, empty eyes, when you can have eyes still full of life, eh?”
An ashtray is placed by me, and I tap my cigar off with a nod to the man who found it for me.
“The best horse trainers are those who don’t break the animals in order to tame them. A horse that’s gently treated will always be loyal to its master. Star … she’s not been broken. In order to be the way she is … she’s been raised for this. Her whole life has led her to this moment, and she knows no different. So far as she is concerned, she’s waited forever for this moment, to be purchased, and to meet her Master, and now it’s here. Not only isn’t she resentful, she’ll be fucking grateful.”
He leans back in his chair and laughs loudly. “You couldn’t make it up. She’s going to fucking thank you for making her your slave. That’s why men pay hundreds and hundreds of thousands for one of these women.”
Raised to be a slave? What the ever-loving fuck? The sooner I can talk to Star and find out where she’s f
rom, the better.
“Of course, now we must do the tacky deed of discussing the financial side of things.”
“I have the money ready to transfer into your account right now,” I tell him.
“Good, good. Let’s have a drink to celebrate while we get the paperwork out of the way.”
I have no choice but to drink a rather hefty glass of scotch with Stuart while we sort the finances out. He drinks his own and then pours a second, topping my glass off as well. I don’t drink it, however. I need to be focused when I leave this room.
“Drink,” he says, and points to my newly filled glass.
I shake my head. “I don’t want anything to dull the beauty of my first moments alone with Star.”
“Ah,” he breathes. “You are a true gentleman. Not many of our kind left. I’m glad you were the one who purchased her. With these girls, I need to be sure they’re going to good homes, you know. You could say I’m like the Cat’s Protection league of lost little girls. I get them good homes, and they stay so long as they’re wanted. When it is over, they return home.”
“What if I want to keep her forever?” I ask.
His brows shoot up. “I’ve never had a buyer want to keep a girl forever. A few years tops before they want to move on to a new model, or to try something different. Still, if you want to keep her forever, you are entitled to. She’s yours. The stipulation about her returning to her people is only for once her time with you is up, which is always at your discretion—not hers.”
“Who are her people?”
He shakes his head. “I cannot divulge such information, sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I laugh and stub my cigar out. “So long as she gives me everything I want, I don’t really care where she came from.”
His eyes alight, and he holds his phone out to me. “The money has come through to my account. Come, you can take custody of your prize.”
He gets up, strolls around from behind the desk, and leads me out of the room and down the hallway toward the ballroom where the auction was held, but he stops at a small door just before it.
He knocks twice, sharply, and one of the women dressed in black opens the door.
Star is sitting on a chair, her ankles are once more cuffed, and there’s a gold chain between them. Same with her wrists. Attached to her leather collar is a leash. Nothing like the pretty jeweled thing Alesso purchased for Stella; this is steel and looks utilitarian.
“Sir, here you go.” One of the women pulls Star up and passes me her leash. She also gives me two small keys, which I pocket.
I take it, wrap it around my fist, and give a tug. She moves to me with shocking grace, given all she’s been through. Her eyes meet mine then she casts them down.
“Look at me,” I tell her.
She does, and she waits. “Do you wish to say anything before we leave?” I ask her. Wondering if she wants a drink or to use the bathroom.
“Thank you, Sir, for buying me. I’m so grateful to be finally able to begin my true destiny.” She smiles, and it looks genuine, real. Her eyes are warm.
I can’t get over how fucked up this shit is. She’s thanking me for buying her. Jesus fucking Christ. I immediately want to cross myself for taking the Lord’s name in vain in a curse, but I can’t, so I file it away for later.
“Told you,” Stuart says on a low murmur. “Such a beautiful thing. Your papers, good sir.”
He passes me a thick, embossed envelope, and I slide it under my arm.
I’m so jealous of Alesso that he’s going to be the one to put a bullet in this cunt. I don’t show my thoughts; instead, I grin and nod. “It really is.”
“Come.” I tug on the leash, and Star follows me, head down as we head into the ballroom.
I’m horrified when the room erupts into applause as we head to our table to gather the rag tag party who are coming in the car back to the house.
I turn and grin at them all, and Star flushes a deep pink, but she’s smiling.
Justina blows them all a kiss and then throws a saucy wink as she gathers her things, and taking Stella’s leash, leads her to the door, falling into step with me.
“Wait for me in the bedroom, kneeling,” Alesso orders Stella, who lowers her eyes and says, “Yes sir.”
I see Stuart watching their exchange with a smile on his lips.
I tell the valet to bring the larger of the two cars around. It seats eight so the seven of us will fit. Irina is driving.
In the car, once the doors are shut and we’re halfway down the drive, Filipp passes me a gun from under his jacket, and I stuff it in the waistband of my jeans. I couldn’t risk carrying when I went in to sign the papers, so unlike the others, I never went to the small room to retrieve a weapon.
Star’s eyes are wide, but I turn to her. “It’s okay,” I say. “Trust me, okay? You’re safe now.”
“Yes, Sir,” she says like the fucking robot she’s been turned into.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Justina explodes once we’re out of the gates and onto the main road.
She did so well in there, but now she’s freaking out as she rocks on her seat, arms wrapped around herself.
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Stella takes the leash from her collar and throws it onto the floor.
“Does anyone have the key for this fucking thing?” she asks.
“Alesso, most likely.” Justina shrugs.
“Bastard, I’m going to kill him.”
I’ve never seen Stella like this. She’s livid.
“Give me your wrists,” I tell Star. She holds them out to me, and I undo her cuffs.
“Ankles,” I say.
She does as ordered, and once more, I undo them. Then I unhook the leash and start to unlock her collar, but she sucks in a great breath and begins to hyperventilate.
Her hands come up to the collar, and she stares around her wildly. “I don’t understand. What did I do wrong? Sir, why are you relinquishing me? I will be shamed if I have to go home failed on my first day. I beg you, oh—” she presses her fists to her eyes. “Shut up, Star,” she says.
What the fuck? I don’t know what to do, but Justina stops her rocking, turns around, and slaps my hand away from the collar.
“He’s not letting you go. He just doesn’t like this collar, okay? He’ll get you a much nicer one tomorrow. But until then, you can keep this one on. Star? Star. Look at me.” Justina puts a heavy command into her tone, and Star looks at Justina.
“Calm down, okay? He’s not letting you go.”
I hate this, but I get with the program. “No, I’m not. You will wear this collar until I find a better one. But I don’t like your hands and feet shackled, okay?”
She lifts tear glossy eyes to me and nods. “Y-y-yes, s-s-sir. Thank you. Oh, thank you.”
Justina catches my eye, and her expression tells me that we’re in deep shit with this girl because I don’t think I can simply let her go tomorrow. She has nowhere to go, and she doesn’t seem able to live a remotely normal life.
She’s like those damn orcas used in water parks that can’t be let back into the wild because they simply wouldn’t cope. Shit. Fuck.
I stare out of the window and wonder what the hell we do now.
And then I pray. I put my hands in my pockets, find the reassurance of the beads, and pray to God to help me find a way to help Star.
We walk into the corridor, chatting loudly. We don’t want Stuart to think this is an ambush, not until it’s far too late for him.
I’m a fucking mess. I’ve screwed things up with Stella and don’t know how to make it right. She’s going to need me after tonight, and the thought reassures me because if she needs me, then she’s already mine. For those exact reasons, it also terrifies me. I’ve gone and pushed, and got what I wanted, so much more quickly than I ever thought possible, and now I have to grow the fuck up and deal with it.
A month, I’d told her, but all it took to get her to fall for me was days. Fucking days, and she’s mine. I
know she is. Thing is … I’m hers too, and probably was long before she ever got herself into all this trouble. But how the hell can we work?
We round the corner, and my mind snaps into focus. Stuart and his men already have their guns drawn. Three of them anyway. The other two watch us with narrowed eyes. Where is his sixth man? Fuck.
We stop, and I pretend to be shocked at the guns, and I sway a little on my feet as I hold my hands up. “Whoah, sorry, didn’t mean to cause a problem. I wondered if I could have a word with you, Stuart? I like what you’ve got going here.”
“If you like it, you can come to the next auction and try to win the bidding. Nothing else to say. I don’t like talking business this way, gentlemen, so kindly go back the way you came.”
He’s staring at Andrius, and something crosses his face. I don’t think it’s recognition. At least not of who Andrius actually is, but more understanding of what he is. A killer.
My heart speeds up, and I thank the Gods when I see the door behind Stuart open a crack as the two men we have in there prepare to come into play.
Andrius snorts, claps me on the back, and the stupid, mad, beautifully brave fucker turns his back on Stuart and his men, and starts to weave down the hall.
He puts on a heavier than usual accent, much more Russian than Ukrainian, and says to me loudly, “Told you, fucker. Protocol. You billionaires never learn. Think nothing applies to you. Think you can buy anyone and anything. Although … you did buy some primo pussy for yourself with Lacy.”
We’re at the doors, Andrius still talking shit before Stuart speaks. “Wait.”
We pause, and Andrius already has his hand slipping into his suit jacket. I turn, unarmed, and stretch my hand out to the wall, as if I need help standing. “Yeah?”
“Take my business card. Call me, and we’ll chat.”
He hands his card to one of his goons. Luckily for us, he’s stupid enough to hand it to the nearest dude, one of the men who had his gun drawn, and the guy has to holster it to take the card and walk it to us.
“Thank you. I’ll be in touch ASAP. I think you could help me out a lot.” I’m talking loudly, which is fine, since I’m meant to be drunk, and it gives the two men the chance to slip out of the broom cupboard unheard.
