Page 2 of The Seller

“Are they?”

She gives a quick little nod, tugging her hair against my fingers.

I’m not sure I believe her.

“My father killed my mother when I was four.”

She says it bluntly, matter of factly. It’s not an appeal to my emotion, it’s just information - and it has the ring of truth about it.

“And your father?”

“Died in prison.”

“Tragic,” I murmur.

“Like you give a fuck,” she shoots back, sudden fire emerging from her fragile frame.

“I don’t give a fuck,” I admit. No point pretending that this will be a meeting of emotional beings. I want to know who her parents are, because I want to know what level of heat having her is going to bring down on me. By the sounds of it, she’s a perfect candidate for my little program, an orphan with nobody to notice that she’s missing.

Everything about this girl is superficially made to order. Her personal situation, her appearance, her very bearing. I can feel the aristocracy in her veins. She is European and finely bred with it. She speaks with a hint of an American accent, indicating she’s spent some time in the United States, but she was picked up in Athens, so she’s either on vacation, or she’s returned home.

“You have a boyfriend?”

She presses her lips together again. Oh she has a neat little tell when she doesn’t want to talk.

“Yeah,” she says. “He’s a marine. He’s going to come here and kick your ass.”

“Is that right? Where was he when you were being plied with drinks in the bar?”

Her eyes flash. She doesn’t know that I know absolutely everything about how she was picked up. Nothing was left to chance. I saw a video of her lithe little ass swaying to the music before my man lured her in. She was very much alone, and very much on the prowl.

“You’re going to want to tell me the truth,” I purr softly, pulling her closer to me. “If I find that you’ve lied to me, you’ll be punished. Harshly.”

Her eyes flash defiance before she gives in. “Fine. I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment.”

“You’ll never have a boyfriend again, little one. You’ll have an owner.”

Siri rolls her eyes.

I let out a short laugh, surprised by her reaction. Usually that revelation brings hysterics, but she acts like I just told her to clean her room.

“You do understand what is happening to you, don’t you?”

“I’d have to be an idiot not to,” she says, fresh attitude surfacing. This one is going to test me. I am going to be taking my palm to her ass frequently, I can already tell that much.

I turn my attention away from her attitude and toward her appearance. She’s very pleasing to the eye. I like her hair. It’s long, but we’ll grow it out even longer. Men like long hair on their toys. Her eyes are a very nice shade of blue. I imagine they’ll shine in the sun, if she ever sees light again.

“What do you think is happening?”

“You’re probably going to kill me or something.”

Again, she speaks as if it doesn’t matter, as if my killing her would be a minor inconvenience. I wonder if she’s more damaged than she looks. A violent father, a deceased mother… major losses at a young age leave their marks on people. I should know better than anyone. She may be broken.

“I’m not going to kill you, Siri.”

She shrugs, as if it doesn’t really matter one way or another.

“What do you last remember?”

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