I nod my thanks, moving past them with an arrogant swagger through the steel door, and beyond to a private elevator with burnished brass doors and dark wood paneling inside. I step in.
There are only two buttons—an up arrow and a down arrow. I press the one pointing down. As the doors slide closed with a soft chime, the noises from upstairs begin to fade. The elevator descends smoothly, soundlessly. When the doors finally open again, I'm greeted by a different kind of energy—hushed voices, clinks of glasses, expensive cologne wafting through the air.
Another set of guards checks my invitation before admitting me into what can only be described as an uber-posh luxury lounge. The club upstairs is fancy and high-end, but this down here is opulent. Extravagant. Crystal chandeliers, mahogony and plush velvet seating. Men in tailored suits cluster in small groups, sipping expensive booze and wearing watches worth more than most people's homes.
I count at least a half a dozen guards armed with automatic weapons stationed around the perimeter. Exits are limited—theelevator behind me and a corridor to the right, which possibly holds a staircase.
At the far end, in the center of the room, surrounded by seating, is a small raised platform.
A fucking auction block.
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth grind.
I recognize several faces—a state senator, a tech billionaire, and the CEO of one of Detroit's largest hospital networks. Men of power and privilege gathered like vultures.
A bell chimes softly, and the conversations die down as men move to take their seats around the platform. I follow, acting like I know what I’m doing.
A man in a white dinner jacket steps up, microphone in hand. "Gentlemen, welcome to our exclusive gathering. Tonight, we offer something truly special—youth, beauty, and absolute purity. A rare combination in today's world, I'm sure you'll agree."
Polite laughter ripples through the audience.
"As always, our merchandise comes with certification of authenticity and health. Full medical records are available for the winning bidder. We begin the bidding at one hundred thousand dollars."
The side door opens, and my heart stops.
Scarlett enters first, holding a thin gold chain attached to a delicate gold collar around Kayla's neck. Kayla follows, head bowed, wearing nothing but hundreds of thin gold chains that drape over her breasts and hips, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
Her skin is milky-white, her body trembling. Her hair has been styled to fall in soft waves, her face made up to enhance her youth while suggesting a sophistication she doesn't possess. She looks terrified, vulnerable, and completely exposed.
A red mist descends over my vision. My hands ball into fists.
"As you can see, gentlemen, tonight's offering is exceptional," the auctioneer continues. "Nineteen years old, untouched, and pure as the driven snow. Just awaiting ownership. She's been medically examined and certified a virgin. Bidding begins now at one hundred thousand."
"One-fifty," calls a voice.
"Two hundred," counters another.
The bids climb rapidly. Two-fifty. Two-sevety-five. Two-ninety.
Kayla stands frozen, eyes fixed on the floor, arms wrapped around herself in a futile attempt at modesty. Scarlett yanks the chain, forcing her to turn slowly so the men can see her from all angles.
"Perhaps our shy flower could give us a better view of what we’re buying?” suggests an older man in the front row. "Spread her legs a bit?"
Scarlett moves toward Kayla, clearly intending to force her into a more revealing position.
I can't watch this another second.
I stride forward, shrugging off my suit jacket. In three steps, I'm on the platform, draping my jacket around Kayla's shoulders. Her head snaps up, eyes widening. The moment she recognizes it’s me, her shoulders sag in relief.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Scarlett hisses.
Guards move in from all sides. Hands on their weapons.
"Cosseting my purchase," I announce loudly, forcing my voice into Vincent Torrino's entitled drawl. "I want to make sure my merchandise isn't tainted."
The room pauses, uncertain.
I turn to face the crowd, one hand resting possessively on Kayla's shoulder. "Gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. I simply prefer my purchase remain for my eyes only.”
