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Interesting.
After a few minutes, I scan the hallway to ensure no one is watching, walk into the smoking room, and turn off the lights. With my cell phone flashlight, I walk to the Greek painting and mimic what I had seen him do.
A staircase reveals itself when the wall separates. I take a steadying breath and go inside. The staircase is engulfed in darkness and smells much like wet concrete and dirt. Sticking close to the walls, I walk down the steps and end up facing a door with a keypad lock.
Well, this is great.
I’m about to give up and walk away, when the door opens, revealing another young servant.
“Oh,” she says in surprise. “Who are you?”
“I apologize,” I say quickly, lowering my head. “I was sent down for Mr. Bianchi, but I couldn’t remember how to unlock the door,” I lie, staring at the ground.
I’m not sure if the lie will work or get me caught, but it was the first thing I could think of.
“First time.” She smiles, and I just nod, pretending to be embarrassed.
She holds the door open and lets me go inside.
“You’ll want to go to the first entrance on the left. Tammy will bring you to Mr. Bianchi. I’d take you myself, but I have to run upstairs to pick something up.”
“Thank you,” I say meekly, keeping my head down, letting my hair cover my face.
“Oh, and you’ll want to put your shoes back on. They like that,” she says with a wink and disappears.
There’s a dark hallway in front of me with doors and windows on either side, emanating a blueish-purple light. Skirting the wall, I get to the first entrance on the left.
It looks much like a normal sports bar—only bigger. It’s equipped with television screens on the farthest wall, displaying everything from sports games and horse races to international news and stock market ticks.
Hmm… Interesting.
In front of the television wall, there’s a large stage where people are scurrying about preparing for something.
Thankfully, the host stand is empty, so I immediately move to the corner shadows and observe. In the center of the room is a bar being tended by three topless bartenders.Well, it was almost a regular sports bar.
The room is nearly full of people, and I’m in awe at how different the environment is in comparison to upstairs. In some ways, it’s less stuffy, slightly more casual. It reminds me of Sin, and something tells me, it’s not that far off. All my muscles tighten in alert, like there’s danger nearby.
“Really?”I hear my sister say.“It couldn’t possibly be because you’re trespassing.”
I close my eyes and imagine my sister standing with her hands on her hips, shaking her head at me. My eyes snap open, and I immediately move farther away from the entrance as I hear people walk in.
“Come, dear. It’s almost time. Are you ready?” a woman says.
“Yes, Mrs. Astor. Tonight will be a spectacular event. I have quite the treat that I’m sure will make you proud,” a younger woman says, and I nearly gag at the sound.
Hiding behind a stack of unused chairs, I watch as Connie Astor and Genna Dupre walk confidently into the room and up to the stage. Once they’re far enough away, I look through the entrance, but no one else is there, so I go back to my hiding spot and watch.
Connie snaps at one of the workers, striking him in the face when he stands to address her. She snaps her fingers, and a few other workers disappear behind the stage as she and Genna walk to the podium.
“Gentlemen,” she says into the microphone, and all of the televisions go black. “Tonight’s auction will begin in less than two minutes. Grab your drinks, sit at your tables, and ready your buzzers.” Her soulless smile sends shivers down my spine.
“I’d like to introduce you to tonight’s emcee. You all know what to do,” she says, and they politely clap as Genna takes the spotlight.
“Good evening, gentlemen. I took a quick glimpse backstage, and I can attest that we have quite a treat for you tonight. Pay attention to their numbers and the television screens,” Genna says, mimicking the same air of confidence that Connie just had. “So without further ado, let’s begin ourcharity event,” she says with a wink, and the room chuckles.
“First up, my personal favorite, number AS26152,” she says, and the spotlight moves to center stage.
Seconds later, I watch in horror as Alexis Snyder is brought out in a lacy black negligee with a collar around her neck and chains. Even with a blindfold covering her eyes, the brightness of the stage lights reflects on the tears sliding down her cheeks.
