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I think about the target, Killian. He has been out for a lot of mafia families' blood. It’s no secret. There’s something about it, though, something about him, that screams hidden agenda. No one has been able to trace anything on him before his appearance as an aspiring politician over the last year.
All families are worried that this guy might have the balls to try them, maybe not succeed, but thrust them into a spotlight they keep themselves well hidden from.
I go over the plan repeatedly in my mind when I look up and catch Toby looking at me through the rearview mirror.
“What’s the question?” I ask.
“Just want to check you’re aware we’re going to have to throw in a few bids to look like we’re trying to win a girl,” he says. “Worse case, if we win her, we can give her a job at one of our family's warehouses.”
“We’ll deal with it when we get there, but yes, I’ll be bidding.” I look out the window. My family is better known for drugs and stolen goods. I know Ivan’s family, some time ago, dealt with trafficking, but everyone associated with the Sorvino/Volkov unity has stepped away from that.
I expect us to get to some warehouse near the docks, but instead, we drive out to the more rural area. Clint is driving fast enough to save time but slow enough not to draw attention. We pull onto a massive plot of land with a large building. It looks like a barn, but I’m sure it’s outfitted differently inside.
Toby opens the car door for me, and I step out, buttoning my suit jacket. They follow me as I head toward the guard at the door.
“We need to search you.”
I stand with legs spread and arms out as the guard asks, “What is your code name, sir?”
“Brother Death,” I say calmly.
“What is your password?”
“Gimmick Pleaser,” I say, trying to maintain a deadpan expression like Frankie taught me.
“Your guards are permitted one handgun each per the rules, but you will be shot on-site if they reach for them unnecessarily inside.” He clicks his fingers. “My friend here will take you to your seats. Enjoy the auction.”
I don’t acknowledge him, following the other guard through the building. We’re taken into a large room, just as we’d assumed from the floor plan, and I take a seat. A young woman approaches me, and I wave my hand. “Whiskey. Neat.”
I hear a voice introducing the first lot, and I sigh softly. I don’t look around because I don’t want to raise suspicion, but I’m aware of the other buyers around me with their guards.
The auctioneer stands to the side, in front of a podium, and smiles with his arms open.
“Welcome, dear friends, to our next special auction. Mateo extends his greetings and assures you he has the finest goods, but tonight we have a lot that may be the best product we’ve ever auctioned.”
I feel, rather than see, buyers perk up slightly. “Of course, you are welcome to bid on as many lots as you want. The highest bidder will get to take their purchases immediately after the auction concludes.”
He motions to the door to his right, and we all watch as a girl is led out and stands in the center of the circle, a light shining down on her like a spotlight. She is made to turn in a circle so that everyone can see each side of her.
“Lot EN1988 is a bright thing of British origin. Used but in good working condition. Has a history of domestic work, landscaping and child care. Has born no children and has had no cosmetic surgery. The bid starts at fifty thousand dollars. Do I have fifty thousand dollars?”
A few people raise their hands, and the auctioneer starts increasing the amount, motioning to the various buyers who put their hands up to bid.
I look at the girl's face. She looks scared but also lethargic. She’s clearly been drugged to make her more complacent or to stop her from trying to escape.
I raise my hand at the eighty-thousand mark, but someone outbids me. I shake my head when asked if I would put down a hundred thousand, and the auctioneer bangs his gavel and shouts, “Sold.”
The girl is escorted back through the same door. She’s crying and begging to be let go. Another girl is brought out. “Lot EE1990 is from Yugoslavia. No known family will look for her. Very flexible but not heavily used. No sign of childbirth, but the breasts are fake. We will start this bid at forty thousand.”
The bids start flying. I raise my hand once or twice, and finally, the guy to my right wins.
Another girl is brought out. Like the others, she is scared but drugged-looking. I am getting bored and glance slightly left to see Killian sitting three chairs away, and I nod to Toby.
“Final lot, RA1987 is one you’re all going to want to get your hands on.”
Everyone rumbles as the auctioneer pauses, then continues, “Ask yourself, how rare is a virgin princess these days? You heard correctly. We have a virgin princess that is worth her weight in gold. A little feisty, she will need a lot of discipline to learn her place, but we’re sure that she will be a quick learner. As a virgin, sexually, she will please you in ways you may not have experienced while also sending a message to her powerful, iron-fist ruling father.”
I raise an eyebrow and see everyone getting restless, “Without further ado, I present Lot RA1987.”
