I wonder if he wants to make these men bow because he’s so young. From my father’s many rants, I’ve learned that mafia men are gradually starting younger and younger. Over the last fifteen years, it has become theprofessionofmen in their twenties, thirties, and forties, rather than those in their fifties and sixties.
Technology caused a rift. So much crime takes place online now that the older generation can’t keep up.
Still, Blaze looks extremely young to have risen so high in this line of work.
“Can I ask a personal question?” I look up, finding the courage to hold his gaze. “How old are you?”
“Like I said, smart cookie.” He smirks. “I bet you think I need this evidence to prove myself?”
“More or less. You look young, so I figure you haven’t earned respect or your place yet.”
“You’re not wrong. Respect from my men comes as a given, but I want more, Hailey. I’ve wanted the throne since I saw my father kill a man when I was five. I’ve been preparing for this my whole life, but this business changes rapidly. While Dante Carrow may have climbed to the very top of the food chain... every king must fall from grace.”
12
HAILEY
PRESENT DAY
“Come in,” I say, startled by the politeness of hearing three firm knocks on my door.
“How’s the pain this morning?” Blaze says as he enters. He smiles when he spots me on the edge of the bed, toweling my hair dry. “I guess you’re doing better?”
“Yes, a little better. Thank you for the clothes.”
Last night, along with dinner, the maid delivered a rack of clothes: warm hoodies, sweaters, tracksuit bottoms, leggings, and plain cotton underwear.
Blaze waves his hand dismissively, resting near the doorway. “I’ll be leaving soon.”
I stop toweling my hair, my heart thumping a little faster. He wasn’t here when his men dragged me into the ballroom. Hewasn’t here while I was locked in the room with thirty beds, or when Darius attacked me under the icy shower.
Having Blaze around has made me feel... comfortable. Safe, even. But only when he’s in the room. He stopped by for a chat a few times yesterday, and he’s here now, his presence soothing me like a warm blanket. Once he leaves, the illusion of safety gives way to fear... and if he’s nowhere in the vicinity it’ll be twice as potent. I don’t want him leaving the house.
“It’s auction night,” Blaze adds.
Auctionnight...
“Will my guest be auctioned with the others, Darius?”
“No, Boss, she won’t.”
“And which girls are you allowed to playdate with here?”
“The ones for auction.”
“You’re selling the girls,” I whisper.
I want to scream that what he does is sick, vile, plain wrong. Thatheis sick, but survival instinct makes me bite my tongue. He’s been kind since he arrived, but it doesn’t mean he won’t hurt me if I insult him.
“Yes,” he confirms. “Contrary to what you might think, they know the endgame when we round them up in Russia, Latvia, Slovenia, some of those other eastern European countries, I can’t remember all their weird names. They’re not forced into this life, Hailey. They come willingly.”
“They willingly agree to what happens in the ballroom?”
His jaw clamps tight, his nostrils flaring. He doesn’t lash out like I expect. He simply shrugs it off, eyes boring into mine. “Think of it as test-driving a car. It’s usually the new owner who takes it for a ride, but it’s different at an auction. My clients expect the best, so the girls need to be tested. Besides... a night in the ballroom keeps my men happy.”
That beautiful rug flashes before my eyes. The pattern distorts with girls crawling beneath, I hear their cries, pleas,the foul, satiated groaning of men. The slap of flesh coming together, the gagging...
I shut my eyes, swallowing the bile climbing my throat. Tears burn my eyes because I can’t save them...
