Page 101 of Wicked and Claimed

Kane shifted closer, his shoulder brushing Nash’s, ready to take over the bidding if needed. Ethan kept his eyes firmly fixed on his own screen, offering Nash privacy to deal with his emotional struggle. Hunter stopped his pacing to stand behind Nash’s chair, a silent pillar of support he was oddly grateful for.

The auctioneer continued his grotesque sales pitch. “Not only is she a natural beauty, she has a spirited temperament for those who enjoy…taming their acquisitions.”

Nash’s vision went red.

Hunter dropped a stabilizing hand on his shoulder. “Focus. The goal now is to get her back. We’ll right the rest of the wrongs as soon as we can.”

“We’ll kill all these sick bastards,” Trees snarled.

Logan nodded. “Every last one.”

“Get ready, gentlemen,” the auctioneer said with a lewd smile. “Bidding begins at one million dollars.”

Nash—logged in as JasperTheDick—entered his first bid. Another user, EmirVIP, immediately countered. Then someone who called himself Sultan_479 joined in.

Two million. Three million. Then four.

Nash had to exhale and steady his hands as he typed each new bid. This wasn’t about money. This was Haisley’s life. Her freedom. Their future.

EmirVIP dropped out at five million. But Sultan_479 kept pushing.

Six million. Seven. Eight.

On stage, Haisley’s eyes darted like a cornered animal, likely searching the in-person audience, wondering which disgusting asshole would win her. The terror on her face threatened to squeeze his heart until it crumbled.

“Sultan_479’s profile suggests his bidding will top out at ten million,” Trees murmured.

“What if it doesn’t?” Nash demanded.

The bidding slowed. He bid nine million. Sultan_479 hesitated, then bid nine point five.

His stomach a knot of anxiety, Nash typed in the staggering bid of ten million dollars and held his breath.

Seconds crawled by like years.

“Ten million going once…” the auctioneer crooned, then turned to someone in the shadowy audience, probably Sultan_479. “Are you going to let your competition beat you for this prime breeding specimen? She would look so pretty with your others…”

Others? Disgusting.

The bidder said something Nash couldn’t see or hear. The not knowing upped his tension. He struggled to breathe, but he had to keep his shit together for her.

“Going twice…”

The fucking bastard spoke so slowly, clearly giving his challenger plenty of time to bid.

The room went dead silent. The team collectively holding their breath. Matt’s knuckles whitened on the edge of the table. Hunter’s hand remained steady on Nash’s shoulder. Trees’s jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumped. Kane’s finger hovered over his keyboard, ready to jump in if Nash faltered. For thirty endless seconds, no one moved. No one breathed.

It felt like thirty decades.

Finally, Sultan_479 shook his head.

The auctioneer shrugged, then banged his gavel on the podium. “Lot twenty-three is sold for ten million dollars to remote bidder JasperTheDick! Congratulations to all. You’ll soon be contacted with details about when and how to collect your prizes.”

Fuck. That was more money than he’d ever seen in his life. How would he ever repay the Santiago brothers, Callie Thorpe-Mackenzie, and Genie Westbrook? Another problem for another time…

Haisley was hauled off stage, but not before Nash caught the fresh tears on her cheeks as her wild eyes lifted to the camera. His chest tightened until he swore it would explode.

Then she was gone. His only assurance that she would be safe until he came for her was the ten million in borrowed cash he’d just forked over and his prayers to God to keep her safe.

---