Page 42 of Auctioned Surrender

When we reach the bar, they let me out as rehearsed. I pull the invitation, which intel and Brian have collectively been able to acquire, out of my pocket before walking up to the entrance.

The burly bouncer looks me over as I hand him the invite. He barely glances at it before gesturing me past him and toward the entrance. The club is a high-end establishment, and these people pull in billions with this operation, yet security is barely in existence.

I noticed it at the last auction too, and shake my head at such lackluster precautions, but this time when I walk through the double doors, something’s different. I know exactly why they don’t need metal detectors, pat searches, or any other such nonsense. Tonight the club wall is lined with men carrying Uzis, and by the looks of them they would rather put a round of bullets in someone than be bothered with asking a question first.

I make my way to the bar at the other side of the room, settle into the round leather stool, and order a drink from the bartender. When he returns and sets the bourbon in front of me, his eyes hover just a little longer than normal.

“You look familiar. New to the party?” he says, wiping down the bar in front of him.

“I am. In fact, I was just about to ask you when things started livening up,” I say, taking a swig of my drink.

“It’s early, man. The real action doesn’t start for another hour or so,” he says, giving me a wide, bright-toothed smile.

“Ahh, well, I think I’ll mingle with the other poor souls while we wait on the beauties,” I say, sliding off the barstool with my drink at the same time my phone vibrates.

I pull it from my pocket and read one word.

Bathroom.

I head to the men’s room, and Matt and Cole are each standing at one of the sinks and see me in the mirror.

“The fuck?”

They both turn at the same time, but no one says anything for more than a half a minute, and by my clock that’s twenty-five-fucking seconds too long.

“What gives?” The plan didn’t include them being inside of this building yet, much less the fucking bathroom.

Matt and Cole start to speak at the same time, but then Matt defers to Cole. “Look, man, I hate to be the one to tell you this,but the team keeping an eye on Bryanna? Shit, it’s a long story, but she’s here.”

“Come again?”

“She left your apartment shortly after you did, and the team followed her to a party store and another shop, and then she came here.”

“The fuck? How long has Bryanna been running around in the night without any protection, and what the hell was she doing at a party store?” I ask, my head spinning with thoughts of her out in plain sight of any of the dozen men that want to kidnap her so they can give her to the man who lost the bid. And he’s here tonight, and now she’s here too, and no one said a word! “What the fuck!” I growl.

“Hold up, man. We’ve had eyes on her the entire time. We were able to track her through your ring.”

“Why didn’t the team tell me, and why the fuck did you let her come here?”

“It was my call, Dame. I knew you had enough on your plate, and we had to find out what she was up to. Damian, she has your credit card, she’s been charging the rides, then the clothes, the shoes, all the jewelry, and the gun,” Matt says.

“What are you telling me?” I say, my chest tightening with the thought that perhaps I’ve missed something important and that she’s here for a specific reason. If so, I don’t have a clue in the fucking world what that might be.

“We don’t know exactly what’s going on yet, Dame, but Bryanna would have spotted you in a heartbeat, and whatever she’s doing, she clearly doesn’t want you to know, or she would have told you herself, right?” Matt asks, and as always, it’s hard to argue with his clearheaded logic, especially at a time when my chest is pounding like a fucking freight train.

My blood is racing with anger. What the hell does she think she’s doing in this pit I just rescued her out of? What doesn’t sheunderstand about how these people operate? And why the hell would she meet up with her brother, unless she didn’t have a choice, but why here? It doesn’t make any sense. “I need to find out what the hell is going on.”

“Give us a few minutes before you walk out, and we’ll cover you. Jay has another team surrounding the perimeter.”

“Roger that,” I say, counting down the seconds and then minutes before I know it is reasonable to walk back into the ballroom. More men have arrived, and the tables have begun filling up while waitresses in scanty skirts with no tops take orders.

I walk to the other side of the room, scouring it for Bryanna. The lady with dark, wispy hair and dressed in pink with a white-and-silver masquerade mask turns sideways, confirming my suspicion. It’s my Doll, but she’s on the other side of the fucking club, standing by the bar with her no-good brother, Kade Foster, glued to her side.

I’m just reading a message from intel and digesting what it means when the hairs on the small of my back begin to prickle.

“Enjoying the view? She is quite captivating, isn’t she?”

I’d recognize the sound of that slimebag’s voice anywhere. I turn slowly to face my adversary, the one who wants Bryanna for himself, the one who is in the same fucking room as my green-eyed Doll.

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