Richer Than God - Amelia Wilde Page 0,56

and for a second, the room keeps spinning. It’s so abrupt that I feel myself fall into his hand. He keeps me upright, but part of me keeps falling and falling.

Zeus

What the fuck is she thinking?

The hope in her eyes is an incandescent, awful thing.

Brigit’s flushed, her pupils huge and dark, and she’s so close—so close. But no matter how beautiful she is, no matter how much I want her, she’ll never be anything but a whore.

That’s true of her and all women.

They can be well-paid, well-cared-for whores, but nothing more. My father taught me that. If they become anything more, then they’re a weakness, and weaknesses are best when they’re silent and compliant and most of all gone.

I drop her hand. Breaking the connection between us is a shock to my burned-out soul. The step I take away from her is a knife to the gut. “You care about me?” I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re not going to last long in this profession if you care about every customer.”

The people around us are beginning to notice that something is wrong. They’re filtering away, disappearing into the dark corners of the room, and Brigit’s eyes follow them as they go. I see the beginnings of fear there, of hurt—and then she pulls herself upright and puts on her best face. “I don’t care about everyone,” she says, voice clear as a bell. “Only you.”

I look her in the eyes before I do it.

It’s the courteous thing to do.

And then I take another step back, pulling a sheet of paper out of my pocket. The music fades out, and so do the conversations. They’ve been waiting for me, the people at this party. They are always waiting for me. “I have an announcement to make,” I tell them, shaking the paper so it opens. “Our newest girl, Brigit, has passed her training.”

A swell of applause that feels like death rises around the tables, along with a few choice wolf-whistles.

Brigit freezes. She manages a turn to one direction, but it’s clear she doesn’t know where to look. It doesn’t matter. They’ll pay for her whether she’s looking or not.

“In the beginning, she was useless,” I announce, to a wave of laughter. “The first time she kissed me, I almost sent her back out to the street. But she was brave. I’ll give her points for that. And for coming on my fingers like such a good slut. Right there in the lounge, if you can believe it.” I’m dying. “And because it’s such a special night, let’s begin with this—the winning bid will also receive exclusive use of the lounge for the remainder of the party. Now… prepare yourselves, gentlemen. Whoever bids the highest will have her for the night. Other arrangements pending. We’ll start with a bid of twenty-five thousand.”

It’s a joke. They know it. “A hundred!” someone calls out from a darker corner.

“A hundred thousand,” I repeat. A hundred thousand dollars. Pitiful. It’s the minimum price for Brigit, and for my heart.

26

Brigit

I’ve been such a fool.

Now I’m a fool having hot flashes in the middle of an empty dance floor while Zeus reads names from the list of men who also want exclusive use of the lounge. I don’t know which thing they want more—the lounge or me. The temperature of my skin rises then falls. My knees shake under the dress. I’d rather die than fall. They’d be on me in an instant. There would be no time to run. I’m in a room full of wolves, and the most dangerous one is circling me, accepting bids for my first night as one of the girls.

Two hundred thousand.

Three hundred thousand.

“She cries when she comes,” Zeus comments, and the bid goes up to four hundred thousand. “It’s a pretty sight. I’d make her do it now, but she’d ruin all that lovely makeup.”

“How does she feel?” The man’s voice is indistinct. They keep asking questions, but I never manage to see who it is. “Is she tight?”

“So fucking tight.” Zeus laughs, and the room laughs with him. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Five hundred thousand.

What is he doing?

“Did you leave anything for us?” Anticipation takes wing and flits around the room, which breathes with it. It’s the most terrifying sensation I’ve ever felt. Worse than the alley. Worse than running here. Worse than all of it. “Zeus, tell us.”

He relishes this question.

At least… I think he does. Something shifts in his eyes, a