Page 5 of Sold to the Silver Foxes

The entire Moretti headquarters will shut down for the holidays in a couple of weeks, and I’m determined that we’ll return in January to find everything under control. Salvatore—my olderbrother and the CEO—shares that mindset. Even now, he’s here, thumbing through something on his phone, no doubt another spreadsheet.

He’s done his best to line up each department so we’re not scrambling. But inevitably, the real scramble starts now, especially in finance. That’s my domain as CFO, and I won’t let him down.

Suddenly, the door to my office bursts open without a knock. Dante strides in like a whirlwind—grinning, energetic, practically vibrating with excitement. A twinge of annoyance spikes through me, like always. Nothing personal against my younger brother, butwhy now?He’s exactly the kind of distraction we don’t need.

“Kelsey, you and the rest—out!” Dante says, waving a hand as if he owns the place.

Kelsey glances at me, eyebrows lifted. The other two employees exchange puzzled looks. My jaw tightens. “Ignore him,” I say firmly, turning to Dante. “We’re in the middle of something important. Whatever it is, Dante, it can wait.”

Dante shakes his head. “Nope. We need everyone out, pronto.”

I scowl at him, shoulders tensing. “This is my office, Dante. If you have something to say, say it.”

But Dante just winks, then glances at my staff. “Seriously, guys, time to step out. Family emergency.”

None of them believe him. Neither do I.

Exasperation flares in my chest. He’s not exactly giving me a choice, unless I want to stage a showdown right here in front ofmy employees. My gaze flicks to Kelsey, who’s still perched with her notepad in hand, looking uncomfortable.

With a sigh, I concede. “Fine. Everyone out for a few minutes, please. I’ll text you when we’re done.”

Kelsey and the others gather their papers, saving spreadsheets, then slip past Dante, shooting curious glances. That leaves me, Dante, and Sal. He’s silent, but there’s a stormy glare in his eyes. He hates when Dante’s like this—all balls and no brains. It’s not my favorite version of him either.

Once the door closes, I fold my arms on the desk, trying not to let my frustration boil over. “Alright, Dante, what’s so urgent that you interrupt us during holiday prep? Some new skydiving stunt? A half-baked plan to summit Mount Everest in winter?”

He laughs, and it’s a sound I haven’t heard from him—lighter than it’s been in a while. His eyes are bright. He’s in a good mood.

What is that going to cost us?

He smirks. “Not exactly. But it’s definitely an adventure.”

Next to him, Sal stands rigid, his expression unreadable except for a faint scowl. “We’re waiting.”

“Check your phones, both of you. I sent an invitation.”

Sometimes it’s a rave in Ibiza, sometimes it’s an extreme sports retreat in South America. Whatever it is, I’m not going. He should know that by now.

On my phone, a minimalistic black-and-silver webpage opens, referencing an auction taking place this weekend at The Armory.

I don’t recognize the name. “Some kind of art auction?”

Sal lifts an eyebrow and glances from the screen to Dante. He doesn’t say anything, but his expression clearly demands an explanation.

Dante slides into one of the chairs opposite my desk, crossing his legs casually. “A virginity auction.”

I snort a laugh, but Sal doesn’t. He just stares at Dante.

Our little brother continues, “This club—The Armory—hosts an annual event. People bid on virgins who are offering up their first time. I paid our entrance fees, so we’re all set.”

For a moment, my mind goes blank. “You can’t be serious.”

Dante’s grin widens. “Yeah. This Armory place is up-and-coming, even competing with Black Fox. The difference is, The Armory’s bigger on secrecy, and they focus on lavish one-off events. I figure it might be exactly what we need—a break from the usual.”

I stare at him, trying to process. Black Fox is the kink club that the three of us occasionally go to, strictly off-the-grid and hush-hush. We’re no prudes, and we’ve indulged in some unique experiences, but a virginity auction? That’s a step beyond anything I’d expect, even from Dante.

“And bywe, you meanyou, right?” I say, flipping my phone around. “Because I have no intention of participating in such an unsavory event right before the holidays.”

Dante holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hear me out. You’re drowning in work, which means you haven’t relaxed in months, maybe years. Sal’s about to drop dead from stress—no offense,” he adds with a sideways glance at Sal, who just snorts.“And I’m itching for something new. This is a weekend thing, a chance for us to blow off steam together. Like old times.”

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