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A LITTLE OVER an hour later, I’ve watched twelve women being sold. Well, the last one I’m pretty sure was a girl. Definitely under the age of eighteen. And all of them had a smile on their faces. And not the I’m scared to death smile, but a genuine I’m going to serve you. It’s my purpose in life smile. I’m not sure if they volunteered or what the fuck is going on. After all, I thought this was about sex trafficking.
“Next up, we have Mia,” the woman’s voice announces over the speakers. “Innocent and beautiful. We’ve saved the best for last, gentlemen.”
Men are already gripping their paddles, ready to bid, but no one walks onto the platform.
My hand fists the glass of bourbon before I throw it back. I can’t get that video of her out of my mind. I watched it five days ago. What has happened to her since then? How long did they have her before they recorded it?
I stare up at the stage, expecting her to be brought out on her hands and knees in chains with a bag over her head. But that is not what they had planned for her tonight.
A woman is shoved onto the stage. She trips, falling onto her hip. Her palms slap the black stage, and long, dark hair shields her face from the crowd. A black crown that looks dipped in glitter falls off her head and clanks to the floor next to her.
No one makes a sound. She’s dressed in a black evening gown. You can’t see the front because of how she’s hunched over on the stage, but you can see the back. It dips down, exposing sun-kissed skin, and stops at the top of her ass, where two little dimples show. We silently watch as she breathes heavily. Her body shakes, and her spine is prominent. She’s even been starved. No physical sign of abuse, though, like I saw on the video. Either they’ve healed or they have them covered up, which makes me wonder how long ago the video was filmed before it was sent to Luca.
A man storms onto the stage. It’s the same one from the video. The one she had kicked in the nuts. “Get up,” he orders, grabbing her upper arm.
She tries to shove him away, but he won’t release her.
“Richard.” Someone growls from beside the stage. “Leave her.”
With a mouth set in a hard line, he exits the stage just as angry as he stormed onto it.
Silence falls once again.
She sits there for a few more minutes before she begins to move. She gets to her knees first; long dark curls still cover her face. Then her heels. She sways a little bit but manages to stand and then turns to face the crowd. Silvery-blue eyes—as clear as the sky on a sunny day—glare at all of us from the stage lights that shine down on her. The dress dips low in the front as it does in the back, showcasing two perfectly round tits. They look untouched. The bralette they had her dressed in the video they sent Luca did nothing for them. Her heavy breathing fills the large room as she bends over and picks up the crown that fell off her head. The crowd gasps when she snaps it in half and drops the pieces to her feet.
“You are all bastards,” she growls, showcasing a set of perfectly straight white teeth.
Men throw up their paddles, and the bidding begins. Five thousand, ten thousand, twenty thousand, the number rises by the second. Everyone wants her. But I am the one who will take her home.
I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. “Ten million,” I call out.
Paddles drop as heads turn to stare at me. Some in shock, others in envy. Who the fuck would pay ten million for a woman they will just throw in a cage? This room might be full of whales, but none of them will dish out that kind of cash for a slave. Not a smart one, anyway. The wealthiest men can be the cheapest at times. And they’re not going to pay that much for pussy.
The woman runs onto the stage with her microphone in hand. “The auction has come to a close,” she states, unable to contain her shit-eating grin.
I send a quick text to Luca.
Me: She’s all mine.
MIA
I’M YANKED OFF stage and almost trip down the stairs again. Then I’m spun around, and my hands are pulled in front of me and crossed at the wrists. A zip tie is placed around them and pulled tight, pinching my skin. I reach up and fist both of my hands, landing a hit to his face.
“Bitch,” Richard growls and then slaps me so hard it knocks me into a table off to the side of the hallway. It hits me right in my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. My face stings, and I taste blood. He grips my hair and yanks my head back, placing his face in front of mine. His lips are so close to mine that they almost touch. He lets out a deep breath, and I have to swallow back the vomit from the smell of cigarettes. “Fuck, you’re not worth the hassle. No matter how much I’m getting paid to deal with you.”