The other three men dropped out of the auction. They set their boards on their tables, dismissing themselves.
Conway raised his again. “Twenty-five.”
Knuckles turned his way, wearing a threatening glare that would make any man shake. He raised his board again. “Fifty.”
My eyes shifted back to Conway, who maintained the same indifferent composure. Fifty million dollars was a lot of cash. It didn’t make sense for Conway to spend that much money on me, not when he could find another model to replace me. But Knuckles would spend whatever it took. This was personal now.
Conway raised his paddleboard. “A hundred.”
One hundred million dollars.
Oh my fucking god.
Now Knuckles looked furious. His jaw clenched, and he ignored his cigar even though it started to burn his fingers. He visibly marked Conway as his enemy, pissed that someone wanted me more than he did.
“Going once.”
Knuckles stared at Conway.
Conway stared back.
“Going twice.”
I couldn’t take the anticipation. Would Knuckles go for it?
The Skull King slammed his mallet on the podium. “Sold to Conway Barsetti for one hundred million dollars. The bitch is yours.”
The men walked up to claim their prizes.
Knuckles stayed in his seat, eyeing me with that smoldering gaze that promised vengeance.
Conway appeared at the foot of the stage instantly, wearing that same indifference. He had just spent a hundred million dollars on me so he couldn’t care that little, but it definitely appeared that way. He grabbed me by the legs and lowered me onto the floor with him, touching my body with no sensitivity as he got me to the ground. Then he stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around my body.
I was finally covered. I finally had some dignity.
He moved behind me and broke the rope with his bare hands. His lips were near my ear when he spoke. “Don’t speak until I say so.”
He’d saved me from a fate of endless torture; I obeyed—happily.
Now that my hands were free, I tightened the jacket over my body, covering as much skin as I could. It reached past my thighs and covered my ass. My feet were bare and most of my legs were visible, but it was better than letting my tits hang out.
Conway pulled me by my arm, not handling me gently like I’d been hoping. He reached the other woman he’d bought, and this time, he unbuttoned his collared shirt then helped her get it on.
He gave her the shirt off his back.
My eyes immediately went to his body, finally seeing the physique I’d imagined under his clothes. The side of his torso was cut with muscle, prominent lines that attached the various muscles of his body into a single working piece of art. His stomach was tight with rock-hard abdominals, and his back had a steep curve the way mine did, but his was caused by the tightness of his muscles. His arms were sculpted and strong, and his shoulders were so wide he didn’t need padding in his jackets. His chest was the best part. Strong, wide, and solid. His tanned skin only made him more beautiful.
I’d nearly been raped a few hours ago, so I wasn’t as aroused as I might have normally been. Right now, I just wanted to get out of there and far away from these disgusting men—especially Knuckles.
Conway brought both of us close to his body and escorted us to the exit of the building. As we walked up the stairs, I realized we were underground like I suspected. We passed the lobby, and I instantly recognized the place.
The Opera Theater.
We reached a black SUV. I didn’t know what the make of the vehicle was. All the windows were tinted pitch-black. He opened the back door and helped Marisa inside. Then he opened the passenger door for me.
I got in and didn’t ask any questions.
When I looked out the window, I saw Knuckles standing there. He’d lit up a new cigar and was now puffing on it like oxygen. I never thought I would be this close to the man but feel so safe.
That was only possible because of Conway.
Conway pulled onto the road and started to drive. Then he made a phone call.
“How’d it go?” A masculine voice came over the line.
“There was an unforeseen circumstance,” Conway said with a clenched jaw. “I need you to take care of the girl for the next few weeks until we return her to her family.”
He was returning Marisa to her family?
“What happened?” the man asked.
“I can’t say right now. Put Anastasia on a plane tomorrow morning.”
The man didn’t ask any more questions. “Alright, Con. But I need a better explanation later.”
“You’ll get one.”
* * *
We stopped at a villa in the countryside, a palace surrounded by stone walls. Ivy grew over the sides just the way it did at Conway’s home. Conway escorted Marisa inside and left me in the car. He was gone for fifteen minutes before he came back out.