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He looks over the girls then comes to sit at the table with me. "How many on the list?” he asks.
“Twenty-two on the night. They’ve sent their deposits. It’s all in the safe. Thirty thousand each, as Poe asked for.”
He’s quiet for a few minutes, as he surveys his merchandise and reels off a few texts. I pick up my drink and take a few mouthfuls, trying not to notice anything that’s happening around me in case it causes another round of putting me in my fucking place.
“That’s some fine pussy we’ve got,” he mutters, stripping his tie from his neck.
Yeah. It is. One in particular.
I’m not responding to that taunt, though.
“Are Abel and Poe still in London?” I ask.
He keeps looking at the girls. “Why?”
I drink again, then stand to go and get a bottle from the bar. “No reason. Just wondered if they’d be at the auction.”
“Depends what Abel's thinking up next.”
A ruckus of noise starts up in the corner as I’m walking back to him, the younger one screaming. I look back, watching as Elias tries getting his hand where she doesn’t want it. My gaze flicks to Five, thoughts willing her to back the fuck down from doing anything stupid. She doesn’t, and the result is the younger one being handled more than she already was and Five getting slapped so fucking hard she falls down to the floor.
Carmen stands over her, one foot tapping, and starts shouting at her in some language I don’t understand. Dragon almost chuckles beside me.
“Fiery little bitch, that one. Dumb as fuck, too. You don’t piss around with Carmen.” I look back at Elias, watching as he gets one hand over the young one’s mouth and starts yanking her thighs apart. He’s laughing. Nothing I can do about that, and considering my dick is partially interested in the show, perhaps I shouldn’t.
“Dante?” Carmen snaps.
He grumbles to himself beside me, strips his jacket off, and gets up to slowly make his way over to one of the seats. She spits more language at Five until, eventually, she pulls herself up from the floor and makes her way over to him. My spine stiffens instantly, a wave of jealousy coursing through me. Shouldn’t be. Like he said, they’re just money. But fuck – it’s the way she moves, or the way she holds her own and protects the younger one. Or maybe it’s just her body that should be in my hands, not his.
Every inch of her tries pulling Elias’s attention rather than the sister as she begins her dance. She’s using everything she’s got – grinding, fuck me eyes, her arse in Dragon’s face so she can keep eye contact with Elias rather than anything else in the room. It’s working, too, making him be less heavy-handed over there with the young one. But none of it, not one fucking second of it, is making me any less distracted by the one thought that keeps running through my head. Mine.
Her loose glance back at me, real eyes seeming gripped with fear for a split second, does nothing to appease the appetite building inside me. It causes a wave of resentment and anger to flood what was already pissed enough. I don’t know where it’s come from, but it’s probably my lack of authority. I’m not used to it, nor do I fucking like it.
Ripping my gaze from the show, I grab my glass and leave. Not only am I questioning what the fuck I’m doing, I’m now deciding I want to keep one of them for myself? I need to get my head straight. This is bullshit. They’re just money – she is. What do I care? I don’t. And one thing I’m not doing is getting on the wrong side of these brothers.
I’ve made my bed. I’m lying in it until I decide if I should get the hell out.
Chapter Six
NAJA
Men escort us back down to our room.
My face throbs, but I refuse to cry over the pain, and I push it away. The other girls in the room look up from their beds as we’re pushed back inside.
The measured footfalls of the trainer follow us in. “You need to consider your future very carefully,” she announces to us all. “You are an investment. Nothing more, and you need to prove to me that you are worth something. Otherwise …” Her words trail off as she glances between me and her glossy nails. “You will not disobey again. Do I make myself clear?” I nod, reading the subtext of everything she says. Miri is by my side, and I pull her closer towards me. After the show upstairs, I expected more shouting, more anger from the woman, but I have a feeling she’s just biding her time.
We head straight to the small washroom to shower. It’s the only privacy offered, and, right now, it’s the only shred of comfort I have, too, apart from holding Miri in my arms. Her tears turned silent up there as she seemed to understand what was happening with the men, and it broke my heart. She’s too young for this. Too innocent, with her whole life in front of her.
I shut the door and pull her to my chest. She sobs, and I run my hand over her hair, soothing her as best I can. “Shh, Miri. It’s okay. We’ll be strong.”
“Stop saying that. Stop saying that because we won’t be,” she mumbles, and her words are full of inevitability.
The pain in her words force me to catch my breath, and I pull myself up a little straighter. “You go first. Shower. You’ll feel better.” Then, as gently as I can, I ease her from my grip.
She strips, drops the scraps of material to the ground and starts the water running. She’ll have bruises on her thighs tomorrow. Bile churns in my stomach as I think about what will come next – after the dancing and the teasing.
* * *
