Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,282

me back up against the wall. A gasp escapes my lips as pain radiates up my back and I struggle to pry his powerful hands free of my throat.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” he says nastily in my face, the smell of whiskey hitting me even harder now, his eyes blazing with a hatred that tears at my heart. “Your voice is so fucking annoying. I can’t believe I listened to that shit for nearly two years. It’s like nails on a fucking chalkboard.”

Tears start streaming down my face as I choke against his grasp. His words are so biting and cruel.

“I just want to remind you that even though you’re going up for auction, I still fucking own you,” he barks. “I don’t give a fuck whose collar you have around your neck. You’re fucking mine. You got it?”

I’m unable to respond, his grip on my neck so strong that I can barely breathe.

He pulls me forward and then slams me back against the wall with enough force that it jars my teeth.

“I said you got it?” he repeats with fury. “The money is mine, and so are you. This is a fucking lesson and nothing else. I own you!”

“Yes,” I croak, my eyes stinging and my lungs refusing to fill.

Danny holds me there for a moment, applying more and more pressure to my throat until I think I’m going to pass out. He lets me go at the last possible second, and I fall away from the wall, sinking to my knees onto the grungy ground, gasping, choking and crying.

“You’ll do well to remember that,” Danny tells me, uncaring that I’m bawling my eyes out at his feet, “because if you don’t, you’re going to wish I left you for dead.”

“You’re going up for auction, and then you’re coming back to me.”

I nod my head vigorously, needing him to know I’m obeying. I’m listening. “Yes, Sir.” I croak out the words through the pain.

“There, there.” His voice softens. “I don’t know why you do this to yourself. All you have to do is listen.” I hear his words, so gentle and comforting. Just listen. But everything in me is telling me to run. This isn’t right.

“I’m sorry I’m so hard on you. I just know you aren’t well.” He crouches beside me and I flinch as he grips my chin in his hand. “You need me, you need this.”

I nod my head as much as I can, staring into his eyes. But I see through him. In a split second, I see through it all. It’s about the money. It hits me so hard, so brutally, I can’t hide my expression.

His face morphs from the gentle attitude to one of cruelty. “You’re going up there, Arianna.” His voice is low. “I know where you live. I saved your life, it belongs to me now.”

A feeling of despair washes over me as I choke on my tears, my neck throbbing.

“Just do what I say and everything will be alright.”

Chapter 7

Zander

My hand has been forced in some ways. Well, not quite. I pick up the beer bottle and bring it to my lips as I sit at the table in the far right corner of the upper floor in Club X. The auction room.

I’ve never felt as if my hand’s been forced. There’s always a choice. However, it’s undeniable that I’m backed in a corner with the knowledge that Arianna Owens will be on the stage soon. Sold to the highest bidder and if it’s anyone else, that will be the money I’m paid.

“What are you going to do?” Charles asks. He’s seated next to me at the small circular table. There are dozens of tables in the room that seat only two to three men at most. A mask covers his face just like most of the men here, including me. They all know who I am, but with his face completely covered by the smooth flat black mask that hides every inch of his features with the exception of his mouth, they have no idea who I’m seated with. He’s lucky in that respect.

My fingers trail along my jaw, the hint of stubble rough beneath my fingertips. “I haven’t decided,” I answer him honestly.

He grunts a laugh and sits back in his seat, picking up the pamphlet to the auction and skimming the lines. I’ve done the same so many times when I didn’t give a fuck about sitting here. Just doing my part to fit in and keeping