Page 106 of Brutal Union
“Is the card telling the truth?” I say this gently, and the silence she gives me makes the blood in my veins run cold. “Do you know what your starting price is?”
She laughs, and my eyes shoot up to see the brittle sound that doesn’t match her face leave her mouth. “Fifty million dollars, but Mistress says I can go for at least 250.”
I whistle low. “You are a special girl…”
“Ashley,” she grins like it's a joke she doesn’t understand.
She uncrosses her legs and stands, walking toward me with shaky steps and her hands pressed on her hips. She’s not seductive at all, but from the way she scrunches her face as she focuses, she looks like someone trained her for this. I can see it in the way she angles her shoulders and lowers her gaze. She reaches for my chest and touches the hem of my hoodie.
“If you want to try before you bid,” she says, “you should do it now. They’ll be back soon.”
I catch her wrist gently but firmly.
“No,” I say. “I am not here for you…or that.”
Her face twists—confusion first, then doubt, then something else entirely. “You’re not a buyer,” she says slowly.
“No.”
Her eyes light up, and she grips the bars tightly. “You’re here to…steal me? Did Mama send for me like she said she would?”
I swallow, closing my eyes as I take a moment to find my bearings, because if this girl is here then her Mama is not coming. Her mother would be lucky enough to still be alive, and too afraid of my father to even think about betraying him in such a manner.
But what are you supposed to tell a child? How cruel can I be telling her the truth?
“Yes,” I lie. “Mama sent me. A couple of friends and I will get you out.”
She exhales sharply, like she’s been holding her breath for days, and a grin cracks through her shell—too wide, too fast. Shestarts to take a step toward me, excited, desperate for more than words.
The lights above us flicker once, then again, before going dark for a full second. Then they blaze back to life in a harsher tone, tinted red along the baseboards.
That’s the signal. The auction will be starting in exactly three minutes.
I hold up a hand. “Hey—control that. They’ll see it on your face. You look too happy, they’ll sedate you again or worse. Understand?”
Ashley bites her lip, nodding fast, the grin falling back into a blank expression like a mask slipping back on. She’s good at this—too good for someone her age. That pisses me off more than anything else I’ve seen tonight.
“I’ll come back,” I say. “Stay ready.”
I slip back through the doorway, careful not to let the blood from the guards trail into the light. The hallway is empty now, most of the staff likely focused on the floor above. I move fast and silent up the stairs, my footsteps falling into the beat of the muffled music now echoing from the ballroom.
Once I reach the corridor just outside the main room, I tap the mic embedded under my collar. It chirps once in my ear, and I speak in a low voice.
“Aoi. I need you on the floor.”
Her voice crackles immediately, sharp and annoyed. “I told you, I’m already in place. What now?”
“There’s a girl. Auction name’s Ashley. Curly brown hair. Pale. Don’t let anyone else win her.”
She hesitates, then asks, “How much are we talking?”
I pause just before stepping through the black velvet curtains and into the glow of the auction floor.
“Fifty million dollars, but be prepared to go as high as 250 million.”
“Sho, what the actual fu—” Aoi’s voice cuts off in a hard static burst as the signal jams slightly under the building’s reinforced walls.
I smirk to myself and step onto the floor as the auctioneer announces the first lot. Velvet suits and cold eyes turn toward the stage, oblivious to the predator walking among them.
