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“Come with me,” Ratilda barks at Stacey, as she lifts her number from the floor and carries it toward me. “You need to stand next to her and hope to God you bring in as much money as she will.” She blows out a breath. “The fucking Crown is here.” She doesn’t direct this to either one of us. She’s simply talking aloud.
“Are you okay?” I ask Stacey, as she slides in next to me. Her eyes meet mine, with awhat the hell do you thinklook. “We’ll be fine,” I say mostly to calm myself.
“What do you make of all this?” she says quietly, so that Ratilda doesn’t hear us talking.
“I’m not sure, but it looks like the ring leaders of this whole circus are here and ready to bid. Just keep your head held high and try to act like this isn’t affecting you.”
“Un-fucking-likely,” she bites out.
“Shall we get on with the main attraction?” Ratilda shouts, eliciting a round of hoots from the crowd.
Julian nods and steps aside. Lawrence bends down, whispering something into his brother’s ear. Julian’s eyes taper into slits as he listens.
“Which one should go first?” she coos. “Blondie or Jessica Rabbit?” The crowd snickers at her moniker for Stacey. Looking over, I see her sway, and I reach out and grab her hand, not caring what any of them think. I’ll offer comfort with or without permission. We’re in this nightmare together.
“I guess it’ll be Goldilocks first,” she laughs, looking at me with a sporting grin. “Bidding shall begin at five million dollars.” She raises a brow in Julian’s direction. “Would you like to claim the first bid?”
He nods, and she beams in response. My eyes widen at this turn of events. I didn’t think he’d bid on me himself.This is bad... very, very bad.
“Ten million dollars.” the scary couple from earlier say in unison.
The woman is now seemingly committed to taking me home. I shudder at the thought.
“Fifteen.” Julian says, furthering this game and driving up the bid.
“Fifteen,” the announcer repeats. “Do I hear twenty?”
Julian and the creepy couple volley back and forth in five-million-dollar increments. My heart pounds in my chest. The frightening fact that I’ll be leaving with one of two evils in a matter of moments has me near hysterics. Sweat drips down my hairline. I wipe it away, stopping my hand at my temple to rub away the impending headache.
“Fifty million dollars.”
My eyes shoot to the back corner, where the dark-haired demon stands tall and assured.
The crowd gasps.
My hands fly to my mouth in shock, head shaking back and forth as the fear threatens to consume me. Fifty million dollars? He’s worse than the couple.I’m as good as dead.
My eyes snap to Julian, begging for him to get me out of this nightmare. I don’t know why I think going with the leader of this whole thing is any better, but something deep within me screams that he’s the better option. I might have a chance with him. My eyes plead and my lips move to form the words, “Save me.”
“One hundred million.” Julian’s eyes remain fixed on mine, but it’s not over yet.
“Prince Marcellus, would you like to trump your brother’s bid?” Ratilda taunts, and I don’t dare breathe.
“No.” His snakelike voice slithers over my body, causing me to tremble in response. “I think I’ll give him this one.”
“What about you?” she says to the couple in the middle of the room.
The creepy man raises his hands in defeat and everything in me relaxes. I almost fall over in relief.
“Seven-seventy-six to the Crown, Julian Bellamy, for one hundred million dollars.”
“Ratilda, I believe that concludes our evening,” Marcellus intones from the corner, arms crossed and brow pinched.
Ratilda’s lips pull down in a frown.
“We still have one donor remaining,” she says, confused, if not a little scared.
“I’ll be taking her for fifty million. I doubt anyone here wishes to bid against me.” He looks around the room, challenging them to argue. They don’t.
