Page 48 of Auctioned Innocence
We arrive at a study that screams old money—leather-bound books, a massive mahogany desk, and oil paintings of stern-faced men.
Madame Rouge sits behind the desk, red nails tapping a rhythm on the polished surface.
“Mr. Volkov,” she greets me. “Please, sit.”
I take the offered chair, crossing one leg over the other in the casual posture of a man with nothing to fear. “That was…unfortunate scene.”
“Indeed.” Her smile is tight. “Mr. Reed’s enthusiasm exceeded his manners. It won’t happen again.”
“Good.” I let the word hang between us, pregnant with implication.
She studies me for a long moment. “You seem particularly interested in our Italian offering.”
I shrug one shoulder. “Quality stands out.”
“Yes, it does.” She opens a leather portfolio, removing several glossy photographs. “For our most serious buyers, we offer private viewing opportunities. More…intimate settings to better assess potential acquisitions.”
She slides a photograph across the desk.
Sofia in the blue dress from earlier, standing in what appears to be a lavishly appointed sitting room.
The image is clinical, like a real estate listing.
Here is the property.
Consider its features.
“One hour,” Madame Rouge continues. “Limited physical contact only. We maintain the value of our merchandise until transfer of ownership.”
My stomach turns at the casual dehumanization, but I keep my expression interested, considering. “When?”
“Tomorrow morning. Before the final preparations for the auction.” She slides a key card across the desk. “The blue suite, nine o’clock. You’ll find the environment more conducive to…assessment than the public showings.”
I pocket the key card, mind already calculating how this changes our extraction timeline.
A private viewing means one-on-one access to Sofia.
It provides potential communication and a coordination of plans.
Maybe I could get her out early, before the auction even begins.
“Other interested parties?” I ask casually.
“Several.” Her smile is knowing. “Mr. Reed was quite insistent, though he’s now reconsidering his position. And we have another gentleman with a particular interest in the merchandise’s background. A long-standing arrangement, you might say.”
Dominic. Or his proxy.
The “special buyer” Jonah mentioned.
“I am not man who shares well,” I say, letting a hint of steel enter my voice.
“So I observed.” Madame Rouge closes her portfolio. “Rest assured, Mr. Volkov, we schedule private viewings with appropriate…intervals.”
I rise, inclining my head slightly. “Until tomorrow, then.”
“One more thing.” She stops me at the door. “Your intervention with Mr. Reed was both gallant and profitable. The merchandise remains undamaged, which I appreciate.” Her eyes harden. “But such protection extends only until purchase. After that, the buyers’ preferences are their own business. I trust we understand each other?”
The message is clear.
