Page 3 of Auctioned to the Agent
Rory nods his head again, and Ivan sighs heavily before tapping something on his iPad. A moment later, the screen lights upwith Rory’s number and the amount of the bid, one hundred thousand dollars.
The emcee quickly ends the bidding after that, confirming Rory as the winner and instructing him to see Ivan to collect his “winnings.” I watch as the girl, who was only ever introduced as lot number nine, is escorted from the stage. She keeps looking over her shoulder, her expression a mixture of shock and confusion, but it’s clear she can’t make out any faces beyond the stage lights. She’s barely stepped into the wing when another woman is escorted out and the emcee introduces the next “lot.”
“Gentlemen,” Ivan says, recalling my attention. “If you’ll follow me please.” It’s clear from his tone that he is less than thrilled at this turn of events, but I don’t give a fuck. The moment the girl left my sight, an itch spread under my skin. I am not one to ever feel out of control or anxious, but I’m feeling both. I need to see her again. Right now. So I grab Rory by the collar and haul the young man out of his seat, then shove him in front of me to follow Ivan out of the lounge. He looks back at me as he walks, trepidation and uncertainty clear in his features, but I don’t have time for him. At this point, he’s a means to an end. I know Mick will have something to say about what just happened, but that’s a problem for future Andrew.
The three of us step out into the hall, and Ivan leads the way around a corner into another corridor lined with doors on either side. He stops at one and passes his iPad to Rory.
“Mr. McVail, you’ll need to sign here to confirm your bid and transfer your deposit to the auction house. Half due now, the rest within forty-eight hours. Failure to pay within the allotted time will result in a permanent ban from all future auctions and referral to our in-house collections team.”
Rory glances at me as he accepts the device from Ivan. He’s in so far over his head, he doesn’t even know it. “In-house collections team” is badly disguised code for knock-around guys. I wonder if Rory is even aware who owns this place. Jesus, this kid. He’s not just going to tank his career, he’s going to get himself killed.
“Sign it and transfer the deposit,” I tell him. “I know you have it. I’ll cover the second installment. As far as I’m concerned, we can consider your fifty K a fine for being so fucking stupid and violating the morality clause in your contract with the label.”
Rory gulps audibly, but finally shows some signs of intelligence by keeping quiet and doing as he’s told. When he’s finished, he passes the iPad back to Ivan.
“Thank you,” the man says. “Now before you meet your new…companion, there are few things to be aware of. Despite the circumstances of your meeting, consent must be honored at all times. Should abuse be reported by either party,Zoltoy Domis not to be held liable, though we will investigate. Should you be found to have violated any of the policies you agreed to at the start of the evening, your bid will be entirely forfeit. You have twenty-four hours to express any dissatisfaction with your companion. If she is found to have misrepresented herself to you or us, you may let us know, and we will make appropriate reparations if warranted. Finally, remember that the NDA you signed when you arrived covers all aspects of the auction before, during, and after your time here. Any questions?”
Rory opens his mouth to respond to Ivan, but I interrupt, “No, you don’t have any questions. Now get the fuck out of here. Be on the first flight back to LA in the morning and expect Mick to be waiting for you at the airport. I’ll let him deal with your dumb ass.”
“But I—”
“I don’t give a shit what excuses you think will make any of this acceptable. Go before I change my mind and cancel your contract entirely. And be discreet.” Rory hangs his head as he shuffles off like a scolded puppy, and I turn back to Ivan. “Where is she?” I demand.
Ivan raises one imperious brow at me, then steps back and waves a hand at the closed door behind him. “She’s just through here, waiting for you.”
Chapter Three
Holly
I was barely off the stage when my stepfather grabbed me and ushered me back into the dressing room. I tried to speak to him, to ask him what was happening, but he refused to respond. He just pushed me through the door and told me to wait.
Nothing makes sense. Craig had told me this was an audition, but the man on stage and the crowd had acted like it was something very different. They were lewd and obscene as they shouted out their bids. And what were they even bidding on? Clearly this isn’t a singing competition liked I’d been told. But then what is it? And had the winning bid really been a hundred thousand dollars? I can’t even conceive of that amount of money.
My head is spinning, but one thing is clear. Whatever this is, I want no part of it. I rush to the closed dressing room door and reach for the knob, but before I can touch it, I’m sent stumbling back as it opens. Ivan steps in, followed by another man I’ve never seen before.
He’s tall and broad, with an imposing scowl. His hair is the color of melted chocolate, cut short at the sides and longer on top, with just a hint of gray at this temples. He has just the start of a beard, as if he couldn’t be bothered to shave the last couple of days, but it does nothing to disguise his sharp jaw. His most striking feature, though, is his eyes. Below thick, serious brows are eyes so deep and dark, I feel like I could fall into them andnever find my way out. I’m struck mute, mesmerized by him as he stares at me like he can see into my very soul. His presence sends a rush of heat through my body like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and my skin prickles with awareness.
“Holly Taylor,” Ivan says, breaking my trance, though I still can’t look away. “it’s my pleasure to introduce to you Mr. Andrew Stone. His was this evening’s winning bid for lot nin—I mean, you.”
That gets my attention. “Me? I don’t understand.”
Ivan’s carefully constructed composure cracks for a moment, but he recovers quickly. “Ms. Taylor, I’m sure this is all very overwhelming. A bid like this,” he shoots Mr. Stone a scathing look, “is quite unorthodox.”
“Ivan, I’m sorry, none of this makes any sense. Where is Craig? My stepfather? I think there has been a misunderstanding.”
“No misunderstanding.” My stepfather’s voice comes from the doorway, a forced, faux joviality to his tone. “Gentlemen. Mr. Stone, a pleasure to meet you. If you could just give my stepdaughter and I a moment.” Ivan looks annoyed, and Mr. Stone, who still hasn’t said a word, clenches his jaw but nods.
Craig grabs me by the arm and pulls me to the corner of the room, backing me into it. He leans in close, and his breath is uncomfortably hot and sticky as he speaks directly into my face.
“Listen here, girl. I’ve had enough of your spoiled attitude. I kept a roof over your whiny ass for years, and now it’s time for you to repay the debt. That man just spent a lot of money to have you, and you’re going to go with him for however long he’s willing to put up with you. And whenever he gets sick of your worthless company, he’ll bring you back here for the next auction. Until then, you’re going to do whatever it takes to keep him happy. Understood?”
“But I—” I start, only to be cut off by a tight squeeze to my arm, one I’m certain will actually leave bruises.
“You can say no like the spoiled little bitch you are, go ahead. But I warn you, these men aren’t to be messed with. You signed the agreement when we arrived. They own you. What do you think men like these will do to a little thing like you if you renege on a deal?”
“But I didn’t make any deal!” I protest in a harsh whisper, glancing frantically over Craig’s shoulder at Ivan, who’s buried in his tablet, and Mr. Stone, who’s stare is boring into my stepfather’s back.
Craig gives my arm a rough shake. “You’re still not getting it. You owe me, and this is how you’re going to repay me, either by spreading your legs or spilling your blood. Either way, I’m done with you.”
