Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

(Twenty-two hours earlier)

Hayden’s POV

                   

The excessive amount of blood gushing from his sliced stomach made me briefly reconsider opening him up further to check his insides—though, truth be told, it was tempting.

“Tell me how this feels, Mr. Frederick?” I asked the naked man on the table. Peeling off my blood-stained white gloves, I ripped the duct tape from his mouth.

“Argh! Stop! Stop, please!” he screamed, his voice hoarse. Mucus dripped from his nose, and tears streamed down his cheeks. Pathetic. And yet… not nearly enough for me.

He was in pain, sure. But not enough.

If he could still speak, then he was still far too comfortable.

“You didn’t answer my question. How does it feel?” I asked again, my voice calm, almost bored, as I pulled on a fresh pair of gloves.

“Painful!” he sobbed, his whole body trembling.

I nodded slowly, pretending to sympathize.

If he thought this was painful, then he was still at peace. I picked up the scalpel again and began cutting deeper when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

“Please… please!” he begged, thrashing weakly.

With a sigh, I set the scalpel down and pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket, smearing blood across the screen as I swiped to answer.

“What do you want this time, Kill?” I muttered, frowning as the asshole on the other end started babbling, clearly drunk.

“I don’t even know where I am right now, can you believe it? The party was blazing and there was this chick I—”

“I don’t have time for this, I’m working,” I cut in sharply.

“That’s the thing—you’re always working. Why don’t you live a little? All you do is work,” he scoffed.

I bit back the urge to remind him why I worked so much. Xavier was tied up with corporate affairs, and Killian was supposed to handle the clan’s day-to-day matters while I oversaw intelligence gathering and, well… extraction.

But since Killian was always off getting drunk or chasing women, I ended up doing both his job and mine.

Of course, Xavier didn’t know this. As irritating as Killian was, I had no desire to throw him under the bus. The mess was between us—and I’d keep it that way.

“What do you want?” I hissed, patience thinning.

“Alright, listen. I was supposed to go to this auction later, but I can’t make it. Will you go in my place?”

I furrowed my brows, exhaling hard. I wanted to rake my fingers through my hair, but the gloves—slick with blood—made that impossible.

“You’re kidding me. You called me for something so fucking trivial?”

“It’s not trivial. It’s a Trevor tradition. We’ve been attending that auction house every year—Father always did it. It’s more my thing now, but I can’t go this year. Just show your face and leave. You don’t even have to buy anything. Well… unless something catches your eye.” His tone was maddeningly casual; I could hear the shrug in his voice.

“I can’t. I’m working,” I said flatly.

“Come on. We can’t miss it. Every other clan will be there. Just go and represent us—unless you want Xavier to throw another tantrum.”

My jaw clenched. I hated when Xavier started in on us for not keeping our affairs in order. I already did enough. I didn’t need him telling me what to do.

“What’s this auction even about?” I asked.

“They sell young girls to the highest bidder. It’s really fun—if you’ve got a virgin kink, you might even snag one there.”

My lip curled. “For fuck’s sake, Kill. You want me to go to that? Do they kidnap these girls?”

“Calm down. They’re sold to the auction house. Some even go willingly. Look, I heard you killed your toy. How about getting another one?”

If he’d been standing in front of me, I’d have punched his smug face. He knew I hated when she was mentioned.

“Fine. I’ll go.” I hung up before he could start rambling again.

I wrapped up with the elementary school teacher after harvesting his organs. I sent Wayne and the others to deliver them to the hospital.

At least the bastard wasn’t entirely useless. His heart and liver were intact; one kidney was ruined, but the other was fine. Those poor kids on the donor list would make use of them.

After hearing rumors that he’d been molesting girls in his class, I’d dug deeper. Turned out it was true—court case dismissed for “lack of evidence.”

The law was bullshit. No one cared until there was a corpse.

I left the extraction building and headed for my main house, passing the boys outside unloading the latest shipment into the basement.

“Be careful with those. I don’t want anything missing,” I warned, ignoring their respectful bows.

******* 

My brother failed to mention that the auction was being held on Rangers territory.

I hated the Rangers with every bone in my body.

It wasn’t complicated—they stole from me once, and I don’t let things slide. I’d have taken my revenge long ago, but Xavier had ordered me to stand down.

Being here stirred the old rage. Still, I decided to stay and see how the whole thing operated. I regretted it within two hours.

Watching depraved old men get excited about buying young girls was… nauseating.

We were each handed an iPad displaying the names, ages, and photos of the girls on offer. There were nearly three hundred of them. I was mindlessly scrolling when one caught my eye.

Number 102.

I frowned, wondering if my vision was playing tricks on me.

No.

I wasn’t hallucinating.

“Jax,” I called to my right-hand man. “Who is this?”

He glanced at the screen, then froze.

“Um… what’s she doing here?”

“I’m supposed to be asking you that. Didn’t you say she was in Los Angeles?” I glared at him, my voice low and dangerous.

He swallowed hard.

Then I heard the auctioneer call her number. My gaze snapped toward the stage—toward the unmistakable glint of golden, wavy hair under the lights.

My heart skipped a beat.

Even if I’d been blind, I’d have known that hair anywhere.

What the fuck was my ex doing in Monaco?

And in a goddamn auction house?