Sold to the Investor (High Rollers Club #2)

Chapter One

Sophia

Tick, tick, tick.

I glance at the clock above the kitchen table for the hundredth time. It’s past midnight, and Daryl isn’t home.

He does this all the time, coming home at odd hours or even disappearing for days. I shouldn’t be worried—heck, I shouldn’t wait up for him anymore, but he’s all the family I have left. No matter how terrible Daryl is, he’s my brother.

The door rattles, jolting me out of my thoughts. The sound is accompanied by a loud, rapid knock.

“Sophia, it’s me,” Daryl shouts, turning the doorknob impatiently.

I rush to the entrance and unlock the door. Daryl wrenches it from my hands, barging in and making me stumble back.

“Daryl, where have—” I let out a soft gasp. “What happened to your face?”

He urges me deeper into the small living room of our apartment and closes the door.

My brother’s face is covered in bruises. His right eye is swollen shut, and dried blood trails down his temple, stopping just above his chin.

He’s in trouble again.

He doesn’t answer, but drags me to the worn-out couch and sits beside me. “I need your help, buttercup,” he says, his eyes full of panic and darting all over the room.

My heart sinks at the endearment. The nickname he used so affectionately when we were kids has turned to a weapon meant to make me comply. But the truth is that he never really gives me a way out when he “needs help,” especially since he started hanging with a bad crowd and developed a gambling and drug addiction.

“What do you need help with?” I ask hesitantly as I take in his ruffled look.

“I owe some people, Soph, and they want their money back. I know I promised not to borrow from loan sharks anymore, but I had to pay some debt and now they’re threatening to kill me.” He gives me a beseeching look. “If you could just go with them as collateral, I promise to get you back as soon as I get their money.”

I stare at my brother in shock. “Collateral? What are you talking about, Daryl? You can’t possibly ask me to do that,” I say in disbelief.

He grabs my hands, gripping so tightly it hurts. “Please, buttercup. Do this for me. They’re going to kill me if I don’t give them something,” he says, his tone ringing with desperation.

I shake my head gently, overwhelmed and scared. I’ve never seen him quite this desperate. “I’m sure we can find something else…another way to pay them. Maybe—”

Daryl’s brown eyes turn crazed, as if he’s possessed. I jerk in place and my heart rate spikes as he shouts, “I just need you to do one fucking thing for me! Be useful for once!”

There it is, the demon in him. His words hit me in the chest, bringing on a familiar flare of guilt. Many times, I’ve considered walking away from him and not looking back. But then I remember all the times he’s taken care of me, before the drugs took hold, and I can’t bring myself to just leave him to his destructive nature.

Of course, there’s also the question of whether I can even survive without him.

You’ll come running back to me… You can’t survive without me…

Those are the words he throws carelessly at me when he’s in a nasty mood. I’ve heard them so much that they’ve taken root in my mind. I withdraw my hands from his, feeling hollow.

He sighs softly and rubs his face. “Look, I’m sorry, Soph. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, but I’m scared. These people are dangerous. Please, do this for me,” he pleads.

“They won’t hurt me, will they?” I ask, wringing my hands.

Daryl puts his hands over mine again, giving me what’s meant to be a reassuring squeeze, but it only adds to my anxiety. “No, they won’t. They just need something or someone valuable to hold me accountable. It’s just for a day, buttercup. I promise to get you back tomorrow, as soon as I get paid.”

“Are you sure?” I ask softly, trying to reason it out in my head. Maybe if I do this for him, he’ll listen if I ask him to get some help…

“Of course,” he replies, then springs off the couch. “Come on. We have to go now. They have a car waiting to pick you up outside.”

I let myself be dragged out, ignoring the heaviness settling in my heart. It might be a stupid idea to go with him, but I refuse to believe Daryl is leading me out like a lamb for slaughter.

As we exit our run-down apartment building, I see a black vehicle with tinted windows idling at the curb. “There it is,” Daryl says with a relieved smile. The passenger door flies open as we reach the car, and he pushes me into the seat. “I’ll see you later, buttercup.”

His dismissive tone puts my hackles back up, but before I can assess the meaning behind it, he turns to the driver, drawing my attention to the cold-faced man beside me.

“Just like we discussed, man,” Daryl says.

The driver nods and starts the car. I glance from him back to Daryl. “You’ll come for me tomorrow, right?” I ask hopefully.

Daryl nods in response. “I promise, Soph,” he says, then closes the door.

The car speeds off the curb the minute I fix the seat belt, sending my heart into overdrive. I clutch my hands, gripping them tightly as the car moves roughly down the narrow road where our tiny apartment complex is located.

All I can do now is hope and pray that Daryl keeps his word.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask the driver after a while.

No response.

I sigh softly, settling into the seat. I might as well gear up for what’s coming. Whoever it is that Daryl owes money, I hope he’s right that they don’t mean to hurt me, just hold me somewhere. I can handle this. It’s just a day.

The drive is longer than I anticipated, and I soon drift off to sleep. By the time I open my eyes, the car is pulling up in front of a huge stone building in the middle of nowhere.

How the heck did I fall asleep in such a situation?

Well, it’s no surprise after I worked all day cleaning houses only to get back home and wait up for Daryl. I’m tired to the bones.

The driver stops the car in what seems to be a parking lot full of all sorts of luxurious-looking vehicles. He gestures for me to get out. I comply, and he comes around to my side and fetches a phone from his front pocket. He makes a quick call, and soon a figure materializes from the shadows beyond the parking lot. He’s incredibly tall, with a thin scar that runs down to his chin from beneath his left eye.

“Did you confirm she’s a virgin?” the new man asks without glancing my way.

“Yeah,” the driver replies. “Her brother confirmed it.”

I blink from one man to the other in shock. What’s going on here? What does my virginity have to do with anything? And when did Daryl discuss my virginity with this man?

Just when I’m about to demand answers to the questions swirling in my head, the new man roughly grabs my arm, pulling me to his side. “I’ll take it from here,” he says, and the driver nods, returning to his car.

“W-who are you?” I ask, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. “What is this place?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he starts to pull me forward. I dig my heels into the ground, struggling against his hold. “Let me go!” I squeal, blinking back tears of frustration. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Who are you? Do you know my brother? Did he borrow money from you?”

“Shut the fuck up and come with me, girl!” he snaps, his grip on my wrist tightening.

A soft, menacing growl reaches my ears, and I snap my head in the direction of the sound. My gaze collides with a pair of dark eyes. Another man is stepping out of the darkness like an avenging angel, and the quiet intensity in his gaze pulls at me until he’s all I see. His shoulders are broad, and his chin is strong. Everything about him is strong, really. There’s an air of savagery around him that feels almost…protective. This man might be my only chance, and a bubble of hope rises within me.

“Help…” The word slips out of my mouth, and just when I’m about to scream it again at the top of my lungs, Scarface slams his hand over my mouth. Paying no attention to the man who I’d hoped might be my savior, he picks me up like a sack of potatoes and begins to carry me toward the door of what I now realize is a chapel. That tiny bubble of hope bursts.

He doesn’t put me down until we enter a dimly lit room. He dumps me unceremoniously on the ground, pointing toward a sheer curtain. “Go in there and change into something appropriate,” he orders gruffly.

“And what if I don’t?” I counter, glaring at him despite the growing fear in my guts.

His expression hardens and in a flash he pulls a gun from his pants and aims it at me. I freeze, staring at the gun in wide-eyed disbelief.

“Disobey me one more time and I’ll kill you, do you understand?” I nod in response, too terrified to utter a word. “Now, get the fuck in there and put on something appropriate,” he repeats, his tone deathly quiet this time. “And be fucking fast about it.”

I nod hurriedly, scampering over to the curtain. I quickly take my clothes off and grab the first piece of clothing on the rack of options, a short black dress with a plunging neckline. I put it on and select red heels from the pile of shoes in the corner.

“Now, come on,” Scarface says impatiently as I walk out from behind the curtain. He moves ahead of me out of the room and I hurry after him, my heart pounding hard with every step.

What exactly has Daryl gotten me into?

The man leads me down a long flight of stairs, stopping in front of a huge wrought iron door. Then he turns around and gives me a number tag with the number 4 written on it. “Clip this on you. When your number is called, go through that door.”

I nod in response, not daring to voice any of the questions echoing in my head.

“Better behave,” he growls, caressing his gun in one last warning before stalking off in the opposite direction.

I know not to take his warning lightly, so I wait, wondering what lies ahead of me behind the imposing door.