Page 12 of Auctioned

Two hours that Ophelia has been in her cell. Two hours that I’ve been watching her.

She’d spent the first one awake, pacing the floor. When she exhausted herself, she collapsed on the bed.

She’s been asleep since.

I know all of that because I’ve been watching her the entire time since we left her there.

Well, not quite. Five minutes were spent climbing the stairs to the second floor with Topher. Three more went to getting rid of him by telling him to rest up before the big day.

When I lost him, I went into my room. Locked the door behind me. Took a seat on my leather armchair by the fireplace. My staff lit a fire there while others served our dinner.

Right before they went to their quarters in a separate house on my property as per my orders. They never asked why.

They knew what was coming.

Most of them have been working for me for years. My late father hired some of them. I kept them around. Mainly because they seemed as relieved as I was when their former boss had passed away.

They weren’t relieved when Topher started bringing Ophelia over.

See, it isn’t a secret. Our staff knows about our tradition. The Hawthornes’ and Morgans’ sick legacies.

In addition to the auction house, the men in our family established two traditions.

First, every man who turns twenty-one must auction off a virgin. Then, once she’s out of the way, sold to the highest bidder, we go on the hunt for another woman to breed then dispose of.

Two despicable rites of passage that I’ve managed to fuck with over the years.

This year, they’ll end for good.

Until then…

Nothing changes.

I’m still the cold, detached man I’ve always been.

Just like my dad and unlike Oliver, my business partner. He’s into the building connections. Forming friendships. Being social in general.

He’s too friendly, in my opinion, given how he can’t keep his dick in his pants.

I, on the other hand, have no interest in fucking around.

My work. That’s what I’m focused on. That’s what makes me a great lawyer.

An even better puppet master.

I hate to admit it, but the auction house has played a part in my success. And while I don’t step foot in the wretched place, I do make good use of the blackmailing material it provides.

It works because people fuck. They fuck a lot, and influential people are no different. We provide them with willing women who service them.

Then we take their pictures. Keep them as leverage for when a case can’t be won fair and square.

Oh, they know about it. Everyone knows. They still come to us. They fill the auction house Oliver runs and I’ve steered away from.

I’ll be there for the main event. The celebrated auction.

I’ll play my part. Then I’m taking them down.

Sure, I pretend to be all in. But it’ll be a farce. A façade I maintain even around Topher.

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