Page 57 of Auctioned

He won’t be yanking her to the floor. Other people won’t witness the gynecologist touching her. Probing her. Examining her.

She’s nothing but a womb to me. But that doesn’t make her any less mine.

There’ll be hell to pay. For this contempt and ridicule.

Later.

I move up next to Griffith, taking advantage of the calamity in the room. Of how Starlee won’t hear me when I hiss to him, “Now. Start bidding this fucking moment.”

“But Mr. Hawthorne.” The smell of his sweat is rancid, burning my nose.

“I’m not crawling!”

“Now, Griffith.”

“Mr. Hawthorne hasn’t announced?—”

“I’ll bring ten men to rape your wife before I kill her with my own two hands. While you watch.”

I take a step back. Arms across my chest.

“Six million!” he yells so loud that Topher hears him over the laughter and excited chatter.

Heads turn. Ophelia and Topher stop wrestling on stage.

My son cocks his head. A predator. “What did you say?”

Griffith isn’t fazed. He knows the more dangerous predator is standing right behind him. Breathing down his neck. “Six million. An anonymous buyer would like to have her. No check-up needed.”

That pleases me. The anger that’s rippled through me settles further when Topher furrows his brow at Starlee. She offers him a firm nod.

I lick my lips. Steeling my posture, my expression. Staring straight ahead.

No one will see any emotion on my face.

Least of all, Ophelia. I’ve given her enough power over me. This ends here.

“Eight,” Alessandro barks. No hesitation.

“Nine.” Fucking Griffith. I would’ve bid higher for her. So much higher.

Shut the hell up.

No one cares about watching Ophelia crawl or be examined anymore. They’re going wild over her.

Bidding. Shouting. Cursing.

You’d think they were sailors. The chief of the NYPD or a woman from Congress. The rest of them.

Disdainful.

Heat prickles my skin. She’s staring at me; I can sense Ophelia’s dark eyes trying to bore holes into my skull.

I ignore her.

Eventually, when the bids go as high as eighteen million, the enthusiasm sizzles.

“Nineteen.” Alessandro’s voice is as unwavering as it was on the first bid.

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