Page 41 of Dark & Deceitful

TWELVE

Round tables are pushed to the outer walls, just below the windows, and the dining hall's center transforms into an auction house. A middle-aged man with slicked-back hair that I’ve never seen before stands behind a podium at the front of the group. Every businessman sits with a numbered paddle, including Dark. Balancing a tray of drinks on one hand, I pause in front of each of the guests for them to claim their beverage of choice. Jasmin and Dee are nowhere to be found as Darmond’s goons post in front of the exits, as if they’re afraid the poor women they’re about to sell will try to run. Something in my gut tells me that’s happened before.

“Thanks, Hannah,” Dark whispers as he grabs his beer and shoots me the sexiest, panty-melting smile that would have any other woman’s ovaries ovulating double-time. Returning his sentiment with a far more subdued grin of my own, I move on to Elden, my admirer. The man is practically salivating as I lower the tray to eye level for him to nab his beer. He reaches around and caresses my ass. Feigning shyness, I giggle as if he’s being a naughty, naughty man, and I like it, when I’d rather stab him in the neck with a fork.

“Thank you. Don’t be a stranger, now.” Elden removes his expensive import from the tray, and I wink at him before I move on to the last two men, who are less interested in me and far more intrigued with the young, naked redhead being escorted to the center of the room.

With a meaty hand wrapped around her upper arm, Darmond’s buff goon orders the woman to firmly “Stay” before leaving the poor thing as eye candy for the entire group of perverts. The redhead couldn’t be any older than nineteen, possibly not even legal. Not that they care. As I return to the bar, I remain neutral to her presence, and the auctioneer gives an overview of what they’re buying, as if she’s not a living, breathing human but a product.

Disgusting.

“Nina, age eighteen. She has been training with us for three years now. Nina is proficient in oral sex, cleaning, and cooking. She rarely acts out of turn and is most happy when her pussy is serviced.”

Swallowing down the bile rising in my throat, I remain poker-faced as I clench both fists down at my sides. These assholes are getting hard over this girl while all I want to do is throw a blanket over her shoulders, feed her cake, and tell her everything is gonna be okay. After I’m done here, she will be. But the shit she’s already gone through… I can’t imagine. Each time I meet a new one of my sisters, it never ceases to amaze me the horrors they’ve endured, and this poor girl has handled more than most. This is why I came today. She is why I’m here, as is the blonde with the small breasts who comes after her and the Indigenous woman with silky black hair that kisses the top of her ass. As each woman is purchased, she’s immediately claimed by her owner and placed either in his lap or on a satin pillow next to his feet as he awaits the next female to be auctioned.

Dark raises his paddle now and again but always bows out a few bids shy of winning. Mr. Cassiano watches the men from the comfort of his chair, sipping a glass of red, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

It isn’t until a porcelain-skinned woman with the blondest hair and biggest, bright blue eyes I’ve ever seen enters that I sense a shift in the room. The wolves are ready to pounce as Darmond’s goon deposits her in the center of the auction space, and the auctioneer orders her to make a slow turn. Arms down at her sides, the woman does as she’s told, and her large, perfectly shaped breasts bounce with the movement. She’s stunning. What’s worse, the men know it, as those without a new companion sit forward in their seats, ready to drop fat stacks of cash to take her home.

Even Dark mimics their excitement when he removes his suit jacket and casually drapes it over the back of his chair. Perching on the edge of his seat, he rubs his palms together like he’s ready to win this one. The gray-haired guy beside him, the one he was chatting with at the bar earlier, who’s currently playing nipple touchy with his new purchase, leans over to pat Dark on the shoulder in encouragement.

“This is Ellie, age nineteen.” The auctioneer winks, and I know for certain, along with the rest of the assholes, that she’s underage. “Ellie has been training with us for six years.”

I squeeze my eyes shut at that knowledge as a pained breath stutters out of me. Holy fuck. That is young.

The man continues, “Ellie speaks three languages, is brilliant at math, excels at oral sex, loves to cook and clean, and is a beautiful dancer. She prefers to spend most of her time indoors but enjoys swimming. She loves double penetration and is happy to be shared.”

Alright.

I don’t think I can do this anymore.

This is too fucking much.

She doesn’t love double… ick, I can’t even say the words. They’ve groomed her and turned her into this man-pleasing vessel when she’s a person with likes and dislikes, hopes and dreams, not a fucking product.

Needing a stiff drink to get through the rest of the day, I pour three fingers deep of the strongest, most expensive whiskey I can find in the bottle display and guzzle it down with my back to the auction. My throat burns like battery acid, and I wince as the potent heat pools in my belly.

One more day. Only one more day.

I can do this.

The bids rise for Ellie faster than any of the women before.

“One hundred and fifty thousand. Do I hear two hundred thousand?” the auctioneer calls.

As I turn to face the music again, Ellie stares at her toes, and the men go wild as I wait with bated breath to see who wins.

A nerdy businessman violently stands from his chair. It flies back a few feet before it topples over. “Five hundred thousand dollars.” He thrusts his paddle in the air as the bulge in his pants shows exactly what he wants from this young woman.

Dark stands, too, and sneers at his rival. “One million,” he growls, flashing his number—323.

A ripple of unease works its way through me at how convincing my ex is to win. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was just as into this as the rest of the group.

The auctioneer smiles like a villain in a horror movie. “Do I hear two?”

The number grows and grows. One man drops out, then the next. By six million, we’re down to three players—Dark, a younger businessman with a crooked nose, and a guy with chunky glasses and a beer belly.

“Do I hear seven million?” the auctioneer calls.

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