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There are two types of auctions in New York that are known by those who can afford them.
The Ivanov Auctions cater to almost any black-market needs.
And my auctions.
The Ivanov Auctions have been around long before my time, so I made a deal with them. I auction virgins under my name and give them a cut withoutinfringing on their business. And I only auction virgins. But what they get out of the deal is nothing compared to the money that is passed through for the service of those involved. And, of course, my cut.
“And what do you hope to gain from this particular auction?” I ask pointedly. No one has ever gotten their wires crossed with the two auctions. And only a chosen few know of both. He probably has no idea that the Ivanov siblings exist, but I’m always cautious.
He licks his lips. “I want…” He pauses.
I open my arms. “You have stepped into the world of pleasure. There is no judgment here. Only fair business and provision of services. I doubt you went through the vetting process only to choke on your demand here in my office.”
If people can’t be honest about their desires, I won’t draw it out of them. With the contract in place, my business is safe whether they satisfy their needs or not. But they always do. Because desire is strange, it can haunt you daily until you can satisfy the need.
He nods and rounds his shoulders. “I want a virgin.”
CHAPTER 15
Honey
I’m in Rya’s kitchen again. This time, I’m busy working alongside their chef, Lawson, with whom I’ve enjoyed cooking in the past weeks. We’re due for a family dinner. Something Rya’s made a point of every Friday night, and Crue begrudgingly joins us.
It’s also become a habit now that I cook while she looks over a few work things. She’s in the process of opening her law firm, and I can only imagine the stress it’s causing her. It’s also very Rya, to return from her wedding and open a business almost immediately. But she always takes the time to listen when I need her.
I feel like my stuff is so small compared to hers, but it’s also nice to talk because I missed out on these conversations when she left Italy all those years ago. So weirdly, I feel like I’m catching up on that sisterly bonding we missed back then.
I’m chopping fresh fruit as Lawson works behind me, preparing the entree. Marco is sitting behind Rya, reading a paper with a coffee in front of him. I know he doesn’t like it here. He bitterly grumbles “So American” under his breath at almost everything we do or see. I know he misses his family, and I feel guilty the longer I stay here because of that. And despite his lack of enthusiasm for being here, I’ve noticed that he reads the paper daily, and at times, I’ve seen him gawking at the drama-filled magazines. It wouldn’t surprise me if he watches drama-filled soap operas in his room at night. The thought is almost laughable.
“I signed up to Bumble,” I tell her, popping a grape into my mouth.
She opens her hand expectantly, so I throw her one. I can tell Lawson is still trying to get used to us invading his space. I think he enjoys it, although he often remains obediently quiet especially if Crue is home.
“Okay…” Rya says around the grape in her mouth.
“I have a few dates lined up already.”
She leans over and takes another grape. She then steps back and says to Marco, “Did you know about this.”
His hands clench around the paper, creasing it. “We have discussed it thoroughly. I made it clear I donotapprove.”
Rya chuckles and looks back to me expectantly.
“And to that, I said I need space and can go on anormal date without a brooding, threatening figure leaning over my shoulder.”
Rya chuckles. Despite Crue’s controlling nature, she’s forced him to promise no guards for her. And if she can do that, surely, I can too. Even if for a few hours.
“I am here to protect you,” he reminds me.
I roll my eyes. “Do you know that some of the girls at work ask if he’s my boyfriend because he’s always waiting to pick me up?” They both inadvertently shudder at the preposterous notion. I had a similar reaction when it was first brought up.
“Perhaps I wouldn’t have to be so imposing if someone wasn’t sneaking out,” he says as he licks his finger and turns to the next page.
I shut my mouth.
Rya raises her eyebrows. “Oh no, not sneaking away from the diligent Marco,” she teases. She goes to steal another grape, but I slap her hand.
“Considering the person she snuck off with is someone your father isn’t particularly fond of, I’m lucky I still have all my fingers attached.”
