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“We can’t be selfish about this. It ends too bloody. I’m the worst person in the fucking world – the worstbrother– but I’d rather Carter live as a sex slave that’s treated better than most because he’s owned by a man I trust, a man I know will be as kind to him as he possibly can, than have Carter know the truth and lose him altogether because he makes a mistake. You said it yourself – this case is damn close to being done. He shouldn’t be stuck there too long. It’s… safest to lie.”

Nathan gulps his scotch, not caring that it burns. At least with it hurting he can blame the pain for the tears stinging his eyes. “Please don’t make me his monster, Maison.”

Maison sniffs. He’s crying again. It’s not a good sign. “I’m so sorry, Travis.”

Eyes falling closed, Nathan sinks into the realization that he can’t get out of this. Both his director and commander are saying to lie. Carter’s fuckingbrotheris saying to lie. Nathan is going to have to lie. Nathan is going to have to pretend to be a fucking slave owner, even in the safety of his own bedroom.

Nathan is going to have to be Carter’s monster.

???

Despite Quinton’s promise, another picture doesn’t come for 17 days. 17 long, excruciating days. It’s of Carter in the same shower room as before, looking much skinnier, and far less defiant. His blue eyes are covered with a heavy black blindfold. His stomach is a concave shape. His lips are cracked and his cheeks are sunken in. He’s been sprayed down, the picture a high enough quality to show the drops of water still rolling down his goose-bumped skin. His dark brown hair is overgrown, falling on his forehead in wet clumps. He looks like a miserable, abused, wet dog.

The caption reads:24 hours. Rome.

Nathan’s best friend, second-hand man, and undercover partner for the operation, is already on the phone with the pilot Nathan keeps on standby. Benny looks at Nathan with a sharp nod. “Wheels up in 30.”

???

With 3 hours left on the countdown, the final email is sent. Nathan stops pacing his hotel room when the alert chimes. Benny snaps his head up to look at him. He’s not important enough in this world to be sent things as exclusive as this. Nathan tries not to crumble beneath the weight of Benny’s stare as he opens the message.

It’s a picture of Carter, as always. He’s naked apart from three things; the standard slave collar that Nathan knows Quinton puts on all of his boys, another black blindfold, and a cock cage. Though it’s not pictured, Nathan is sure that Carter’s ass is plugged as well.

Unlike the last picture, Carter looks relatively good in this one. He’s been dried off, all of his body hair from the neck down removed. The messy locks of dark hair have been cut and styled. His cracked lips are blood free and shiny with what Nathan assumes must be some sort of salve.

The caption reads:Belmont. Green Room. 11.

???

Nathan’s eyes fall on his target the second he’s brought onto the stage with the others. Even blindfolded, Carter is easy to recognize. Not that he’ll have to worry about purchasing the wrong boy tonight. Carter is the main event. He’s the reason at least half of the men in attendance tonight are even here in the first place, most of them preferring the markets in the Americas instead. It’ll be a production when Carter goes up for sale. Quinton will make a show of it.

Hell, he’s already making a show of it. Nathan has been to two of Quinton’s events before tonight. Both times, the slaves were kept locked in cages in the back, only being brought out one at a time when it was their turn to be auctioned off. Tonight, they’ve brought them all out to be displayed before the champagne has even been distributed.

It gives Nathan a sick feeling in his gut. He has a suspicion Carter won’t be leaving that stage untouched. It won’t just be his sale that’s entertainment. It’ll be his body too.

“Roarke.” Nathan turns his face toward the sound of his name, glancing up to find one of his closer acquaintances standing there.Todd Henley. He internally sighs as he pastes on a smile and pushes to his feet. There are few people in this world that Nathan hates more than Todd Henley. There are also few people in this world that Nathanneedsmore than Todd Henley if he has any hope in ending this goddamn operation.

“Henley,” Nathan says in greeting, offering his hand to be shaken. “Take a seat?”

“I’d love to.”

Nathan returns to his chair, Henley taking the open one to his left. They’re turned towards each other slightly, enough for them to engage in pleasant conversation while never having to look away from the stage. Something is happening up there. Equipment is being wheeled out from backstage.

Bile rises in Nathan’s throat. He takes a large gulp of scotch to burn it away.

“You here for the Beckett boy?” Henley asks conversationally, as if he doesn’t know. As if he isn’t here for him too.

“Of course. When I catch that son of a bitch, I’m going to tie him up and make him watch as me and every single one of my men fuck his baby brother.” Nathan smirks over the lip of his glass, eyes tracking Carter as he’s yanked across the stage towards the leather padded spanking bench that’s now been anchored in the center of it. They pull him along so fast that his feet can’t keep up. He trips, the men letting him fall face first. Someone grabs him by the bindings on his wrists to pull him to his feet. With his arms bound behind his back as they are, the movement must be excruciatingly painful on his shoulders. Blood drips down the side of his face from a fresh gash across his forehead.

Those motherfu-

“Roarke?” Nathan blinks, looking over at Henley with a questioning brow. Henley chuckles. “I asked if you’re going to kill the boy after that?”

“Ah. I apologize. The show was a bit distracting.” Nathan winks before nodding his head towards the stage. He hates the way Henley grins when he sees what’s happening up there. “As far as what to do with the boy once he’s served his purpose, I haven’t decided. We’ll see how good of a fuck he is, I suppose.”

Henley laughs. “And how used up he is by then, right?”

“Of course.” Nathan drains his glass. He wants another, but he won’t have one. Tonight isn’t the night to numb his guilt. Not if it means dulling everything else as well. Nathan needs to be on his game tonight. Carter Beckett is up for sale, and the boy needs to be coming home with him.

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