Page 98 of Rescuing Rebel

“Your clients seem eager,” I reply neutrally, bitterness on my tongue.

He chuckles greasily. “Oh yes, they’re salivating for this offering. Only the finest wares.” His hands rub together greedily. “It will be a night to remember.”

The lights dim, and the men take their seats, hungry with anticipation. Kaufman guides me to the back row. Jaw clamped shut in disgust, I sit and wait.

“Bring them out!” Kaufman calls out.

The double doors swing open, and a hush falls over the crowded ballroom. I sit rigidly in my chair, braced for the depraved spectacle about to unfold.

A live string quartet in the corner strikes up a lilting melody, the notes dripping with sensuality. The men lean forward in their seats, mouths parted, eyes glinting with ill-concealed excitement. Low murmurs and eager whispers fill the room.

The Angels drift in like ethereal creatures in fluttering white gowns that leave little to the imagination. Their heads are bowed, eyes downcast in conditioned submission. Bare feet glide soundlessly across the polished floor. They move in perfect synchrony, limbs unfolding in lithe, sensuous motions honed through coercion and manipulation.

The men devour the vulnerable forms with rapturous eyes. Wet lips part, hands grip chair arms, pulses visibly quicken—the room thrums with restless desire.

The quartet’s melody swells as the Angels turn in graceful pirouettes, diaphanous fabric floating around supple curves and long, unblemished legs. A few men can stand it no longer, gasps and moans escaping them as composure breaks.

My jaw aches from clenching as I stare straight ahead. Rage simmers beneath my impassive facade as this dehumanizing spectacle continues. The things I would do to these leering lowlifes…

But I must maintain appearances.

My team awaits my signal, ready to strike. So I sit motionless, hearing the eager whispers, inhaling the perfume-laced air, feeling the writhing depravity pulsating around me—and I wait.

Kaufman leans in, gloating. “Exquisite, aren’t they? The finest stock.”

I force a smile. “You have an eye for quality.” My hollow compliment nearly chokes me.

Kaufman preens under the perceived compliment. “Yes, I leave their training to someone with a special touch. Ah, speaking of…”

His reptilian gaze fixes on Rebel as she enters, stunning in a tight ruby gown. Our eyes lock briefly before she glides smoothly to Kaufman’s side. His possessive grip on her wrist makes fury boil in my veins.

“Rebel has done wonders training these girls, gentling them into the most sublime obedience.” Kaufman’s eyes caress Rebel’s body greedily as she forces a thin smile.

He turns and has a quick, hushed conversation with her. Rebel’s face pales, but she nods reluctantly. Kaufman smiles and taps his champagne flute, calling for attention.

“Before we present tonight’s offerings, the talented woman who so perfectly prepared them will say a few words.”

He indicates Rebel with a flourish. She glides to the front on trembling legs. I sit tensely, unsure what Kaufman is playing at.

Rebel’s voice wavers slightly before she steels herself. “Each of the Angels you will meet tonight represents countless hours of dedication and training. Everything about them, from their movement to their thoughts, has been gently guided into creating the most pleasurable companion imaginable.”

Murmurs of eager anticipation ripple through the room. I feel sick at her forced words.

“Training is a delicate art,” Rebel continues, staring straight ahead. “First, we must peel back the layers of individual identity and willfulness, persuading a subject that her deepest fulfillment lies in obedience to another. This reframing takes time, but the results are exquisite—a lovely flower unfurling to offer its petals for your pleasure.”

The men smile and nod, enthralled. Kaufman looks immensely pleased at this endorsement of his vile work. I yearn to strangle him with my bare hands.

Rebel concludes, “It has been my privilege to prepare these Angels for your enjoyment. I hope what you find tonight exceeds your most imaginative fantasies.”

She returns to Kaufman’s side with her head bowed. He kisses her cheek indulgently before turning back to me.

“Rebel has done wonders training the girls, gentling them to obedience.” His eyes caress her hungrily as she gives a thin smile. Kaufman turns from me for a quiet conversation with Rebel.

Discreetly, I touch my earpiece and subvocalize my request. “Status?”

“In position. On your signal.” The terse reply comes from CJ, who will coordinate the combined activities of Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie teams.

Kaufman drones on as I nod politely, every nerve coiled tight. My moment approaches. With a subtle look to Rebel, I rise, adjusting my cuffs. “Please excuse me a moment. Nature calls.”

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