Auction

GREY

I passed a red-carpeted corridor heading to a banquet hall. I'd spent less than five minutes in this place, and I already knew this was a mistake. I despised going to those underground auctions. The last time I'd been in a place like this one was when my late foster father had dragged me with him by force. So what was I doing here now? I was making sure that Emidio Abramo wouldn't do anything stupid, like spending several grand on a forged painting.

“I truly appreciate you're here,” Emidio muttered as we were entering the hall. “Of course, I could have gone alone, but…”

“That's not a big deal. I owed you for telling me about Tavolo Verde,” I tossed before shifting my attention to a man dressed in a black tux.

“Mr. Maladetti, Mr. Abramo, your table awaits.” His lips stretched into a trained grin as he bowed at the waist.

“Lead the way,” I said curtly. The last thing I wanted was to draw too much attention, which was the exact opposite of what Emidio would want. He knew that showing up here with me would build up his position.  

Finally, the tux guy moved, leading us to one of the tables closest to the podium. More than a few heads turned as we sat down; murmurs followed. Just. Fucking. Perfect. “You buy what you need to, and we're leaving.” I gave Emidio a meaningful look.

“Of course!” He chuckled, innocently lifting his hands. “I only need two things: a present for my investor and an apology gift for Donna Valentina.”

My brows rose. “What did you do this time?”

He winced. “Well, I… It's a man's thing, you know? You can't control it sometimes.”

I leaned back in my seat and sighed. “You're lucky she didn't cut your dick off for cheating on her… again.”

Emidio clicked his tongue. “It's all because of her temper. Don't ever marry an Italian, I tell you.”

“Not planning to,” I muttered as Emidio called over a waiter. He ordered drinks while I scanned the hall, inwardly cursing. More than a few of my enemies, all in tailor-made suits, sat merely a few feet away from us. This was the so-called neutral territory. Those who entered left their guns and other weapons in the secured vault in the main hall. But I knew thousands of ways of how to kill without a weapon, and I couldn't help but consider ending a few who didn't deserve to breathe. 

“Speaking of women… How did it go with that lovely waitress?” Emidio's voice dragged me away from my lethal urges.

I blew out a breath. “Not sure, actually. She didn't show up for work tonight.”

The waiter brought our drinks just as the auction began. Emidio examined the first item, then shook his head and turned to me instead. “Maybe you scared her away?”

“Maybe I did…” I sipped from my whiskey glass.

He studied me. “I see that bothers you... and that's kind of weird in your case.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Why?”

“I don't recall you've ever taken an interest in a specific woman before. You don't chase after them.” He gulped from his glass before adding dryly, “Usually it's the other way around.”

A faint smirk pulled at my lips. “Guess that makes her special.”

“Special?” Emidio's brows inched up. “Like the one you were looking for years ago?”

My body tensed. “That one is dead,” I strained through my teeth. “And if I were you, I wouldn't mention that ever again.”

“My bad,” he muttered before quickly turning his attention to the auction.

I leaned back in my seat, downed my drink, and ordered a bottle. A part of me hoped alcohol would silence what Emidio's words had triggered. That didn't happen. That girl's face appeared in my mind. She was smiling and happily turning around in her blue dress. She'd looked like an angel then. She would have still been smiling, resembling an angel… if I hadn't failed to protect her.  

I finished another glass and refilled it while Emidio idly bid on some useless items. Hopefully, Valentina would like them since he surely looked proud of himself when he won. Laughing, he clinked his glass with mine and announced, “I'm done for tonight.”

“Finally,” I murmured, drinking what was left of my whiskey. I was about to rise from my seat when the auctioneer began to introduce the final item.

Four men dragged a human-sized glass cage onto the podium, and my breath caught in my throat. “She's a beauty, isn't she?” the auctioneer crooned, stepping closer to the blond-haired woman locked inside the cage. The fucker knocked on the glass, as if to wake a wild animal within, and the woman cringed in response.

Hardly any fabric covered the tempting curves of her body. She was dressed in a golden, see-through nightgown. Her wavy blond hair was let loose, and her skin had been covered with gold glitter, everything to make her resemble a shiny little sex toy.

A soft moan escaped the cage as the golden girl moved closer to the front glass wall. Her eyes were half-closed, her hands sensually gliding up and down her body, like she was begging to be touched. “They fucking drugged her,” I hissed.

“Step closer,” the auctioneer coaxed, a sly grin painted across his face. “See what an exceptional thing she is.”

Human trafficking had always disgusted me, and yet I was moving toward the podium before I could tell myself this was a seriously bad idea.

More than twenty men got up from their seats. Some of them licked their lips; others hurriedly adjusted their pants around the crotch. I heard more than a few sick comments on how they would use her, should they win. My hands fisted, but perhaps walking toward that podium made me no better than them.

I stopped in front of the cage, watching the golden girl shiver. “What the fuck did you do to get here?” I whispered, ineptly trying to draw her attention. “How much did you owe Bellezza? What kind of debt made him lock you up in this cage?”

Suddenly, her eyes opened, revealing the stunning blue, the blue I recognized. “Help… me,” she choked out, pressing her hands to the glass wall. “Free me…”

“Poppy?” I murmured, stunned. I needed a few seconds for my brain to process it, but that was her. That was my feisty waitress.

I didn't think she heard me. Instead, she moaned again, pushing against the glass wall and touching herself through the thin fabric. She bit her lip, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. I swallowed as my blood eagerly travelled down to my cock. She might not have realized what she was doing, but that didn't change the fact that she was mesmerizing. And as fucked-up as it was, I couldn't take my eyes off her.

I returned to my seat, and Emidio's eyes widened. “What the fuck? I thought we were leaving.”

“Give me a moment,” I hissed, dragging my fingers through my hair. My eyes locked on the cage where Poppy curled up in the corner again. She looked like she was in pain… What the hell had they given her?!

“Don't tell me you're going to buy that girl.” Emidio returned to his seat, his eyes on me. “You're not bidding her… are you?”

I worked my jaw, watching her ineptly hit the glass of her cage, pleading to let her out. I hadn't thought I would ever think of buying someone, but now…

“Grey?” Emidio nudged my arm. “Tell me you won't—”

“That's Poppy,” I bit out.

Emidio blinked. “Who?”

“The waitress,” I all but growled.

“Cristo santo!” Emidio dragged his hand over his face. He stared at me for a few frantic heartbeats before asking, “So… what are you planning?”

Jaw clenched, I shook my head. “No idea.”

“Starting price: five hundred thousand dollars!” The auctioneer's voice echoed through the hall, and a wave of curses followed.

A faint smirk curved my lips as I realized that at least a few sadistic fuckers already couldn't afford her. I curled my fingers around the paddle, but kept my hand on the table. A second passed, and the bidding began.

I looked at Poppy; she was no longer moving. A part of her face was covered by her golden hair, the visible cheek dreadfully pale. My muscles tensed. Had she fainted?

“One million dollars!” The auctioneer raised his gavel. “Going once!”

I looked to my right and saw Giulio Rinaldi, ready to celebrate his victory. Cold fury saturated my veins.

“Going twice!”

“Grey?” Emidio muttered nervously, his eyes on my paddle. “Will you let him win?”

No. She could only belong to me.

I rose to my feet, roaring, “Five million!”

The hall turned silent.