And she came anyway.
A raw hunger coils in my gut, something I don’t fucking recognize. I’ve looked at thousands of women. Beautiful women, available women, women who made themselves easy to want.I’ve never felt this—this immediate, visceral pull that makes my cock twitch and my hands ache to touch.
What the fuck is happening to me?
I try to scroll past her, to assess the full situation like the businessman I am. But my thumb drags back to her image, an involuntary pull, a need to own what I’m seeing.
The defiant lift of her chin. The refusal to beg, even in a photograph. This one knows what she’s walking into, and she’ll meet it with her spine straight. And I want her with an intensity that feels like it could strip flesh from bone.
“At least no one looks battered, drugged, or forced,” I say, my voice rough, unfamiliar. “Are they so fucking young they don’t realize what they signed up for?”
But I’m not looking at the others anymore. Just her.
Jana Spears. Twenty-three. Business management major, three credits from graduation. Two part-time jobs. Grandmother dying in a Medicaid hospice. No other family. Desperate enough to see this as her best option.
I understand desperation; I’ve built an empire on it. But this woman, with her lifted chin and her refusal to perform—she’s courageous in a way that makes me want to burn down the world that put her here, then lock her away where only I can see her.
“Any man who would pay a starting bid of fifty thousand isn’t going to be a knight in fucking shining armor.” The number sits at the bottom of each file. Fifty thousand feels obscene. Too much. Not nearly enough. Nothing could be enough for what she’s willing to sacrifice.
Viktor’s voice cuts through the fog in my brain. “Who knows what they think? If I understood women, I wouldn’t be on the phone with you. I’d be at home eating a meal she prepared while she rubbed my feet.”
The absurdity makes me choke on a laugh. “You really don’t know women.”
“Neither do you. Now, what are we going to do? I wanted the go-ahead to change management.”
Change management. Put a bullet in Volodymyr and move on. It’s the logical solution. But my thumb hovers over Jana’s image. Logic has no place here. There is only this pull, this immediate certainty. She’s mine. The thought isn’t a choice. It’s a fact.
I scroll through the files a third time, and each pass ends the same way: stopped on her face. Every other girl tries to entice. Jana stands in baggy clothes, daring a buyer to see her value without the advertisement. The defiance in that choice ignites a raw, possessive hunger in my gut.
“I’m canceling the auction,” Viktor continues. “I’m tempted to take a pistol and beat every man who even thought an Ismailov would sell a stupid woman.”
“Don’t call them stupid.” The words snap out of me, sharp and defensive.
“Huh?” Viktor’s surprise is audible.
I’m surprised, too. But dismissing her intelligence—it makes my teeth grind.
“No. Don’t stop it.” The decision crystallizes as I speak. “I’ll catch the next flight. I just wrapped things up with the Aslanovs.”
“We got the route?”
“Yes. When I get home, we’ll celebrate.” It’s a major win, but all I can think about is getting on a plane, crossing an ocean, and seeing this woman in person. “First, I handle Volodymyr. And the auction.”
My thumb returns to Jana’s file. Her dark eyes seem to see through the screen, through me.
Hers is the only file I print. The laser printer whirs to life, and I fold the paper carefully. I’ll add it to my wallet where it will rest against my chest.
“Have Daniil make the arrangements to pick me up. When we get to the auction, I want him and Maxim on this.”
“You know Maxim is more than a little insane. Are you sure you want a machine gun when a knife will do?”
Silence stretches across the line. I let the quiet build until Viktor understands his error.
“Fine. Max it is.”
“And Viktor, one more thing.” I open Jana’s photo, looking at it again because I can’t help myself. “Put guys on each of the ladies. Discreet protection. Only interact if needed.”
The request is unusual enough that Viktor goes silent for a beat. “You’re the boss.”
