Page 64 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 3

Then, before I could make a move, one of the burly men grabbed Emily around the waist, pulling her limp body from my arms and tossing her over his shoulder. I scrambled out of the car after them.

“Let her go!” I screeched, reaching for her and hoping someone nearby would hear my screams.

A meaty hand covered my mouth while a large muscular arm wrapped around my waist and lifted me off my feet as though I weighed as much as a feather. We were bodily dragged through a dark back door that led to a freight elevator. It went straight up the four floors to the top of the hotel.

“If you scream or say a single word when I let go of you, I will take the girl and carve your initials into each of her plump baby-soft cheeks. Then maybe I’ll take one of her little fingers and send it to her parents as a gift.”

A sob tore from my lungs, muffled against his hand as the visual reached my brain. I nodded and held my breath as he let me stand on my own two feet and removed his hand from my mouth. I inhaled a full breath sharply and focused on Emily, who was still passed out, hanging over one of the men’s shoulders.

When the elevator stopped, one man walked down the hallway to a door at the very end. He opened it and disappeared through it. For several heartbeats, we all just stood there silently, none of us moving a muscle. The door across from us opened again, and he waved us forward.

“All clear, but hurry. Our guys have eyes on every floor, but you never know.”

I was grabbed by the elbow and shoved forward. I winced at the painful grip on my arm but kept quiet. We were led out into the main hallway of the fourth-floor suites from a staff only section. The men took us directly to the Suite Impériale, which made no sense. I knew from experience this room cost upward of $26,000 or more per night. In the States, they sometimes called it the Presidential Suite. Now why would my kidnapper take me to a room boasting the peak of luxury? None of it added up.

Not a single soul had exited any of the hotel’s suites as we were led to the double doors at the end. Once inside, two of our guards broke off and stood sentry outside the hotel room.

“Don’t let anyone in, no matter what,” the primary leader snapped.

They gave curt nods as the door shut, and Emily and I were brought to the living space in the center of the room. Once Emily was laid on the couch, I went to her, patting her cheeks. She blinked her eyes open, a confused expression on her face as she moved to sit up.

“No, stay lying down. I think you went into shock and passed out. You’re okay.”

“I want my dad,” she gulped, tears tracking down the sides of her face.

“I know,chérie. Just rest and stay quiet while I figure this out.” I pulled the throw blanket hanging over the back of the couch and covered her with it, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She held the blanket just under her chin while her eyes darted around the room.

Using every bit of strength I could muster, I faced forward, pressed my knees together and sat up straight. “Can someone please tell me the meaning of all this? Why are we here?”

Primary leader man lifted his hand and pulled off his mask, showing a handsome, rugged face I didn’t recognize. He had dark hair, short on the sides and long on top. His eyebrows were two narrowed slashes on a pronounced brow. His jaw was square and chiseled, reminiscent of someone from my past, but I couldn’t put my finger on whom. The visual was just out of reach.

He glared at me with hate in his dark, soulless eyes. “You know, for a rich woman, you’re not very bright. Leaving your guards behind like that,” he tsked. “Stupid move. Worked in our favor, though, didn’t it?” His voice was slightly accented, but he seemed to hide it, preferring to use an Americanized intonation.

“Our?” I prompted, attempting to get him to share more about who was behind all this.

The man chuckled dryly, then moved to the bar and poured himself a glass of straight Stoli vodka. He took a long sip, tilted his head to the side, and grinned. “You really don’t have a clue, do you?”

“I’m afraid not. I don’t tend to make enemies in my line of work. Especially not ones that would kidnap me and an innocent child.”

He took another drink. “That couldn’t be helped. You were holding onto her, making it very clear she was important to you. In my line of work”—he used my phrasing but with an added note of sarcasm—“you have to make split-second decisions that will benefit the whole. I knew you’d be more likely to come willingly if we took the girl. But as long as you do as we say, and follow our directions to the letter, no one will get hurt. Well, she won’t.” He gestured to Emily whose bottom lip quivered. “Your fate has yet to be determined.”

“That’s right, because I ruined someone’s life and now mine needs to be ruined? Wasn’t that what you wrote on the threatening messages?”

He shook his head. “Not me, but the man I work for.”

“Ah, some unknown man that believes I harmed him somehow.”

He shrugged. “So it would seem.” He finished the rest of his vodka and slammed the tumbler back down on the counter. “Settle in; he’ll be here soon.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Emily said, loud enough for both of us to hear.

The man rolled his eyes. “Hold it,” he growled.

“Auntie, I have to change my pad,” she croaked.

I looked at the man with a stern, pointed expression. “May I take her to the restroom, please? I doubt you want a mess on these lovely white couches.”

Emily sat up and curled forward, covering her pelvis with her hand and hissing as though pained.

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