Page 5 of Auctioned to the Russian Pakhan
“Sold!” The gavel came down with a sound like a gunshot, and Matvei felt something twist in his chest. He’d just purchased a human being. The fact that it was part of a larger plan, that he had no intention of harming her, didn’t make the reality any less sickening.
Around the room, conversations resumed as people moved on to the next lot, but Matvei was already standing, already making his way toward the back office where transactions were completed. The sooner he got Irina out of this place, the better.
The paperwork was mercifully brief. Cash transactions always were, especially when no one wanted a paper trail. Within twenty minutes, he had a receipt for his “purchase” and instructions on where to collect his property.
Property. The word made him want to break something.
Irina was waiting in a small room behind the stage, still restrained but now flanked by two guards who looked like they’d been hired more for their willingness to hurt people than their intelligence. They stepped aside when Matvei entered, apparently satisfied that he was the legitimate buyer.
Up close, she was even more striking than she’d appeared on stage. But it was her eyes that held his attention, ice blue and filled with a fury that could have melted steel. She was studying him like a puzzle she intended to solve, cataloging details and filing them away for future use.
“You’re not what I expected,” she said, her voice steady despite everything she’d been through.
“What did you expect?” he asked, genuinely curious. Most people in her situation would be begging, crying, or trying to negotiate. Irina Nikolai was making conversation.
“Someone older. Uglier. More obviously perverted.” She tilted her head, still watching him with those calculating eyes. “You don’t look like the type who needs to buy women.”
He almost smiled at that. Almost. “Looks can be deceiving.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “They certainly can be. The question is, what are you deceiving me about?”
Smart. Dangerously smart. He could see why her brothers had tried to keep her away from the family business. A mind like hers, combined with Nikolai's ruthlessness, would be a formidable weapon.
“We should go,” he said instead of answering her question. “This place makes my skin crawl.”
Something flickered in her expression at that, surprise maybe, or confusion. She’d been expecting him to gloat, to assert his ownership, to do any of the things that the other bidders would have done. Instead, he was expressing disgust at the situation.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked as he gestured for her to precede him out of the room.
“Somewhere safe,” he said, and realized with a start that he meant it.
The guards didn’t try to stop them as they left. Why would they? He’d paid for her, completed the transaction, and signed whatever papers made this legal in their twisted world. As far as they were concerned, Irina Nikolai was his problem now.
If only they knew how right they were.
Chapter 3 - Irina
Irina couldn’t believe it. Out of all the sick bastards who could have bought her, why did it have to be a Volkov?
The realization hit her like a freight train as she sat in the back of the sleek black SUV, her wrists still zip-tied behind her back. The man beside her might think his alias fooled everyone at that disgusting auction, but Irina had made it her business to know exactly who to look out for after what happened to Azriel. Her brothers could protest all they wanted about her “meddling,” but she’d done her research. She knew the sharp angles of those cheekbones, the predatory way he carried himself, the cold calculation behind those golden-brown eyes.
This wasn’t just any Volkov foot soldier. This was Matvei fucking Volkov himself.
The leather seat creaked as she shifted, testing the zip-ties for the hundredth time. Still tight. Still cutting into her skin. The bastard hadn’t even bothered to loosen them after dragging her out of that hellhole, just threw her into his vehicle like a piece of cargo he’d purchased. Which, technically, he had.
Her stomach churned at the memory of all those leering faces, the way they’d looked at her like she was meat on display. But Matvei’s bid had silenced them all, his voice cutting through the crowd with an authority that made even the auctioneer straighten up. She should have been grateful, she supposed. Some of those other men had looked like they’d enjoy breaking her in ways that would leave permanent scars.
But gratitude was the last thing on her mind as she studied her captor from the corner of her eye.
He was bigger than she’d anticipated from the grainy surveillance photos Kostya had shown her months ago. Theexpensive suit did nothing to hide the lethal muscle underneath, and those minimal tattoos she could see peeking from his collar spoke of a man who’d earned his position through violence, not inheritance. His blond hair was perfectly styled despite the chaos of the evening, and when he’d grabbed her arm to guide her from the auction house, his grip had been firm enough to leave bruises.
Handsome didn’t begin to cover it. The man was devastating in a way that made her hate herself for noticing.
“Stop staring,” he said without looking at her, his voice carrying that same commanding tone that had dominated the auction. “It’s rude.”
Irina’s temper flared. “Rude? You just bought me like a fucking cow at market, and you’re lecturing me about manners?”
That got his attention. Those golden eyes snapped to hers, and for a moment, she saw something flicker there. Surprise, maybe. Or amusement. It was gone too quickly to be sure.
