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I stare at them.
“Yes, but why did you give him money, if he’s the one who owes the debt?”
The two men shrug again, like this is a totally normal conversation.
“Because a beautiful woman is a special thing, sweetheart. She’s worth more than all the money in the world combined, and he wasn’t just going to let you go in exchange for a write-off. So we threw in fifty thousand to sweeten the deal. We would have thrown in more, if we knew you looked like this.”
I flush again at his words. Do these men really think I’m that beautiful? I’ve been called ‘pretty’ on occasion, but only on occasion. Most of the time, people refer to me as ‘cute’ or ‘adorable.’
“Anyways, we decided to say yes to Jensen’s strange offer just to see just how far he’d go.” Tom shakes his head and chuckles softly. “And honestly, I’m not regretting that decision at all, now that we’ve met you.” He smiles that predatory smile again.
Now, things are going overboard.
“I’m sorry, but none of this means that you can buy me. That’s not how the world works.” I stare at the men, trying to make my point.
Gabriel and Tom shrug simultaneously.
“Not when you’re us,” says Gabriel.
“We’re billionaires, Michelle. This is exactly how our world works,” Tom tells me matter-of-factly.
“Besides, candidly?” Gabriel shakes his head. “While this whole thing is kind of crazy, you are gorgeous, and you’re attracted to us. So what’s the problem?”
“Come on,” I laugh at Gabriel, my tone incredulous. “Do you hear yourselves? You’re buying a woman. In what universe is that legal?”
The two men are unperturbed, and Gabriel speaks smoothly.
“Like we said, Michelle, the world works differently for rich men, and in this case, we can buy you. We just did, in fact.”
“No,” I interrupt. “I’m going to report you to the police. I’m going to tell Jensen to fuck off, and I’m going to …”
Gabriel and Tom merely shrug.
“Sure, go ahead.”
I stare at them.
“Do you hear me? I have proof!” I say, waving the receipt in the air. “I have totally legitimate, rock solid proof that you’re buying women!”
The two men merely shrug again.
“It’s just a piece of paper. It doesn’t mean anything,” says Tom dismissively.
“Besides, we know NYPD well. They’re not going to be interested in your allegations. And even if they are, the Commissioner is a family friend. I’m sure he’d be happy to have a talk with you about your hallucinations. In fact, I hear NYPD has its own psychiatrists on staff. We could arrange an appointment, if you feel like you need one.”
I stare at them, hardly able to believe what I’m hearing.
“So you’re going to get me locked up in the psych ward because I’m the only one here who’s making sense? Are you crazy?”
The two men look pointedly at me.
“No, sweetheart. You are. That’s what this is about.”
I gape at them, my head whirling. How did this get so out of control? I could swear I was on the right side of things, but instead, this has become so confusing and complicated that now, I’m actually wondering if I’m the one who’s insane.
“No,” I say firmly. “You’re gaslighting me. You’re trying to make me believe that I’m crazy, but in no universe is it okay to buy a woman. We’re not chattel!”
The men merely shrug again, their forms tall and forbidding in dark suits.
“Go ahead, Michelle. If you think you can turn this into a newsworthy event, then be our guest,” drawls Tom. “We’ll see you on the other side.”
His words make me pause because when he says “the other side,” I immediately think of bars. Jailhouse bars, to be specific. Either that, or I’m locked in a psych ward behind some type of plexiglass that muffles my screams.
“Listen,” I say in a conciliatory manner. “This conversation has gotten out of hand. Why don’t we all walk away, and we’ll pretend this never happened? I’ll go home to my apartment, and you guys will go home to where you live, and we’ll never meet again.”
But even as I say the words, disappointment tugs at me because I want to see these men again. They’re mysterious and charming, and even if they’re criminals, I feel an intense pull in my body, as if these two men are the only cure for my lust-fueled thoughts.
But Tom and Gabriel are used to getting their way.
“No can do, sweetheart. Look, we acknowledge that this situation is a little strange. But Gabriel’s right. We’re tired of the same parade of skinny, mindless New York socialites. You are lush, curvy and fiery, obviously,” Tom drawls. “You’re exactly the kind of woman we’ve been looking for.”
I shake my head, grappling with everything I’ve learned over the past several minutes. I look from one Costas brother to the next, their two forms handsome and forbidding, even as their expressions reveal nothing. These billionaires are undeniably magnetic. But can they really buy me?
