been meeting for decades and we follow the rules. To the letter. If you’re refusing to have her in the viewing area, I’ll have no choice but to offer her to the second-highest bidder.”
A line jumps in Jack’s cheek. “I wouldn’t suggest you try that.”
If I wasn’t a believer in Stockholm syndrome before, I definitely am now. Jack is paying to have sex with me, yet I’m granting him sainthood for wanting to do it privately. Have I lost my mind? Every man in this room is morally corrupt, including Jack.
So why am I putting my hand in his?
Why am I twining my fingers through his much larger ones and moving into the protective heat of his side? It makes no sense.
When our palms meet, Jack jolts a little, his arrogance slipping. He looks down at our hands, visibly shocked for a number of seconds, before tightening his grip and pulling me closer. I curl into him almost automatically, hiding my face in his chest, and now it’s my turn to be shocked. Since arriving, his attitude has almost been blasé. Yet his heart is stampeding like a pack of wild horses.
I peek up to find him looking down at me. He looks…caught.
Because I’ve discovered his crazy heartbeat?
He clears his throat hard and shifts his attention back to Winston. “I’ll pay more to have it done privately.”
“Bidding is closed,” Winston says, enunciating each word. “And perhaps you should read the room a little better, Mr. Lincoln. Can’t you see they’re salivating to watch you fuck the hot little virgin? It has been a while since we’ve had two young, attractive people in their prime give us a show. Too long.” I turn in Jack’s arms to find Winston gesturing, bringing two men forward.
They have guns.
Jack slowly turns me until he’s using his body as a shield. “What the fuck, Creed?”
“There is a…steep penalty for not following the rules,” Winston purrs. “If you’re not actively participating, then you’re an innocent bystander. A witness with no guilt. And we like everyone here to be nice and guilty, so there’s no fear of you talking to the Feds.”
Through the expensive material of Jack’s suit, I feel his muscles grow taut. An angry vibration sifting inside of him. This is a powerful man who never gets cornered, but we are quite simply that. There is no way out of this, is there?
“I’ll take that check now,” Winston says in a slithering voice.
He knows he has us.
The man who bid on me in Jack’s stead comes forward, removing a checkbook from the inner pocket of his overcoat.
“Make it out for eight million,” Jack instructs him in a voice that could cut diamonds. “I’ll give the girl her cut directly.”
“The rules—” Winston snarls.
“Fuck your rules,” Jack growls. “I want to make sure she gets the money.”
“You don’t trust me?”
Jack just laughs at that. “Where is the viewing area, as you so romantically named it?”
Winston gestures to the room. “We’re not done with the auction.”
My stomach turns at the word auction. Gina and Darlene still have their turn ahead. And I wish they wouldn’t put themselves through this. I wish there was an easier way for them to make money, but I also understand why they’ve made the choice.
I wish I’d been given the same one.
“Continue your auction,” Jack says. “I’m taking a few minutes alone with her. Before.”
Winston waves a hand toward the back of the house. “You’ll know it when you see it.”
That ominous statement makes me shiver.
Jack seems relieved to get me out of the room, away from the armed men, further confusing me about his character. Is he a good man underneath all that arrogance?
No. I have to refuse this notion that we’re on the same side. We’re not. He is paying to have sex with me. He is one of them.
Although…did he join this club just for me?
I don’t understand why he would do that. We’ve never met. So I sincerely doubt he’s aware that my mother is his housekeeper. Even if he knew about the relation, he certainly wouldn’t pay ten million dollars to rescue the daughter of the cleaner.
Especially one he underpays.
We round the corner into another oblong lounge, this one overlooking the backyard, complete with pool and tennis courts. At the end of the lounge, a red light glows from a high, arched doorway. Jack hesitates before guiding me toward it. The closer we come to the ominous red glow, the more my nerves start to jangle, my thin