Chapter 37
Leilani
I pace in front of the mirror, whispering to myself as the clock ticks away, inching closer toward nine pm.
“You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.”
Octavius arrived shortly before lunch, with his two favorite bodyguards, and save for a curt nod my way, he pretended I didn’t exist while we dined.
I guess he wasn’t in the mood to start a fight.
Blaze dismissed me once the staff cleared the table, and I’ve been locked in the guest bedroom ever since, wondering if Octavius might visit and taunt me about Anton.
So far, so good.
In fact, it’s such smooth sailing it makes me nervous.
I worried that Octavius would ask about my time here. I worried that he’d make inappropriate comments. Try telling me how Anton’s doing or when his punishment might be over, but he took one look at me and seemed satisfied with my condition enough not to press the issue.
I stop pacing long enough to scrutinize my reflection for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes.
The dress I’m wearing isn’t one Anton would approve of. It’s midnight black, the fabric hugging every inch of my body in a way that makes me feel exposed.
It’s not Anton’s style for sure, but it’s not mine, either. The dress is too tight. Too revealing with how the neckline brushes the tops of my breasts. I don’t resemble the little helpless doll he manufactured... and that’s the whole point.
I’m the opposite of his fantasy.
Once he arrives at the auction, he’ll feel like someone stole me and dragged me through filth.
Concealer almost hides the hickeys decorating my neck, shoulders, and collarbones. The pale marks are still visible when you look closely. Which is why I’ll be wearing a shawl to the auction so Octavius won’t notice before Anton arrives.
I left the marks buried beneath my dress as they are. At any point I can slip the neckline half an inch lower to fuel Anton’s rage with the love bites.
My lips are red, eyes rimmed with black eyeliner, and my hair is pinned high with a few loose tendrils framing my face.
The knife Koby left sits on the dresser, a thigh holster beside it. I’m still debating whether I should wear it.
My dress falls to my mid-thighs, so fucking short I worry the knife will peek out.
“It’s just a precaution,” Koby said, crouching before the bed I sat on. “You won’t need it.”
“Then why should I have it? You really think a knife will make a difference in a room full of men with guns?”
“It’ll make a difference to me. I can’t send you in there defenseless. If anything goes wrong... it won’t, but—” He grabbed my knees, his thumbs brushing my skin. “Just humor me, hellcat. Please.”
I didn’t want it at first, but once I grabbed the handle, felt the power of holding a weapon that could end a life—unlike my fists—a sense of calm washed over me.
Koby won’t let a hair fall off my head. I know that. He promised... but he can’t be everywhere at once.
He’ll sit at the back of the auction room while I’m at the very front with Noretto and Grey. It’ll take Koby a few seconds to get to me. Even if I only draw the knife, it’ll buy him some time.
“Precaution,” I whisper, grabbing the holster.
Koby showed me how and where to fasten it earlier. I follow his instructions until the leather strap tightens against my soft flesh. I slide the knife into place, tuck the hem of the dress over it, and take a seat, testing how far my dress rolls up.
The knife stays hidden, but as I stand, checking my reflection in the mirror, I realize it’s noticeable if someone’s really looking.
A soft knock at the door breaks my thoughts.
“Leilani?” Blaze calls, sounding much calmer than I am.
I swallow the nerves crawling up my throat. “Come in.”
He steps through the door in a tailored black suit, his cold assessment sweeping me. “You look different.”
“That’s the idea.”
“It’s time.” His eyes dip lower, landing where the dress hugs my thigh, and my pulse spikes. “I see Koby decided to arm you.”
Shit. He’s been here twenty seconds and already spotted the knife.
“Show me,” Blaze demands, crossing the space between us.
I back away on instinct. Rationally, I know he’s on my side. He won’t hurt me. But I also know Koby would bare his teeth if he saw Noretto within six feet of me while we’re alone.
“I’m trying to help. If you’re wearing it, wear it right. The angle’s off. It’ll show through the fabric when you move.” He gets down on one knee, gesturing with two fingers. “May I?”
I nod, heat rising to my cheeks. The only man who ever got on his knees for me was Koby, in very different circumstances. I don’t dare imagine what he’d do if he saw Blaze touching me... but it’s that or leave without the knife, and I’m not sure which would anger Koby more.
Blaze adjusts the holster, turning it inward so the blade hugs my inner thigh, His hands don’t linger, as if he knows he’ll lose them if my boyfriend finds out he was even mildly inappropriate.
“There. That’s better. You can still reach it fast, but no one will notice it now.”
“You sure?” I pinch the hem, pulling it down to cover as much skin as possible.
“Yes, I’m sure... unless they undress you.” He straightens, smoothing the sleeves of his suit. “Ready?”
“Not in the slightest.”
A smirk tugs the corner of his lips. “Good. Fear keeps you alive. You’ll be fine, Leilani. Stay close to me.”
“Where’s Octavius?”
“He’s waiting downstairs. We’re taking a limo. Carter and Broadway are in position backstage, and Koby and Ryder will arrive fashionably late.”
I know. It’s all Koby’s been talking about for days, but even though we planned for every eventuality we could think of, I’m sure there’s something we didn’t consider.
Blaze opens the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “Whatever happens tonight, remember who you are. You stopped being Anton’s property a long time ago.”
I fill my lungs to the brim, then exhale sharply and follow Blaze out of the room. He stays close as we navigate the corridors and descend the spiral staircase. I whisper my mantra in time with my heel clicks.
You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.
Octavius waits outside, eyes scanning the driveway where a long black limo is parked, flanked on both ends by two SUVs. He looks exactly as he did at lunch. Sharp, navy suit, silver cufflinks, and a faint curl of disdain on his mouth.
His bodyguards sit in one of the SUVs, Jax and some other goon of Blaze’s in the other, windows rolled down.
He barely glances at us as we emerge from the house. “Let’s go,” he says, and the limo driver opens the back door on cue.
Octavius slides in first. I take the seat opposite, my fingers curled tight around the clutch purse in my lap.
Blaze sits beside me, his shoulders relaxed as the limo starts down the driveway. Only the low hum of the engine and my own breaths interrupt the tense silence.
I can feel Octavius’s gaze sliding down my frame, and my heart picks up pace. What if he notices the knife? I shift, pushing my clutch directly over the holster.
“I see Blaze has taught you how to keep your mouth shut,” he says. “Your style’s changed, too.” His attention ping-pongs to Blaze. “What brought that on? Couldn’t stand looking at a grown woman dressed like a child?”
“It was... disturbing to my staff,” he admits, fabricating a reason for my updated wardrobe on the spot. “Turns out some men in my crew share your brother’s fantasies, though in a less chaste way.” He tilts his head.
Octavius snarls. “Sickening.”
“Quite,” Blaze agrees. “A change of wardrobe stopped their drool staining my carpets.”
He hums, fingertips tapping against the leather seat in a calm, infuriating rhythm. “I wonder what Anton would say about how his little doll changed...”
A cold chain snaps around my throat.
I’m pretty sure my face is snow-white right now, but it pales further when Blaze’s head lifts slightly beside me, signaling interest to Octavius and alarm to me.
Octavius smirks. “He’s become an impeccable soldier since I took you.
Dedicated. Obedient... but a man like him needs a reminder of what’s at stake.
” He slides a phone from his jacket pocket, swiping the screen with his thumb.
“A quick chat should keep him motivated to impress me enough that he can get you back faster.”
My fingers go numb. Ryder only blocked Anton’s calls to Octavius, not the reverse.
We haven’t planned for this.
My knees start shaking. I pinch them together, simultaneously trying to stifle the growing panic in my chest.
“Maybe wait until he’s done with tonight’s task,” Blaze suggests. “Let him focus.”
“Oh, I think he’ll focus more when he sees his little girl being corrupted. He’ll do anything to get her back sooner.”
He taps the screen, and my pulse roars so loud it’s all I can hear. I’m not far from throwing up.
Please don’t connect.
Please don’t connect.
Please don’t connect.
Octavius frowns, glancing at the screen when the telltale sound of a failed call fills the limo.
Blaze exhales so quietly I almost miss it, and relief rattles through me like an avalanche. I unclench my slick palms.
“He must be out of range.” Octavius slides the phone back into his pocket. “I’ll try later.”
My heartrate doesn’t slow until the limo does.
I’d expected to pull up outside a luxurious space designed to handle fine art and antique auctions.
But instead, the limo parks by an abandoned club.
The sign above the main entrance is dark, faded, paint peeling at the corners, but a red carpet stretches across the pavement, and two bodyguards stand at the door.
They part like the red sea for Octavius.
Music spills outside when they open the doors, and Blaze’s hand lands on the small of my back, gently steering me forward.
I force my weak legs to move.
The hum of conversations grows louder with every step I take. The crowd inside is larger than I expected. More than a hundred men in dark suits, all nursing different drinks, cigar smoke hanging over small, round tables.
Everyone we pass greets Octavius and Blaze in a blur of never-ending hand-shakes. Their eyes linger on me more than I’d like and the weight of the knife against my thigh grows proportionately, my pulse pounding at the base of my skull.
Calm down. Breathe. You can do this.
Octavius gestures for me to follow. “Chin up, Leilani. Tonight, you’re allowed to smile. You can have a drink as well.”
How considerate.
I wouldn’t have guessed how grand this place is from outside. Nothing could be further from the abandoned night club turned make-shift auction house I’d assumed.
The walls are trimmed in gold, velvet curtains hang all around, the stage far back, illuminated by bright lights.
My stomach churns.
Koby warned me that sitting through girls my age being auctioned off, some proud, some trembling, wouldn’t be easy, but I assured him time and time again that I’d be fine.
Now I’m here, I’m not so confident.
How am I supposed to sit and watch when all I want to do is run backstage and set the girls free?
Blaze’s hand touches my elbow, guiding me toward the front. “Deep breaths,” he whispers in my ear. “You look like you’re about to faint.”
I straighten my spine, injecting as much fake confidence into my stance as possible. If things go well, this will be the very last auction. No more girls will be sold into sex slavery. At least not here.
We pass tables with neatly arranged auction paddles until we reach one at the front, directly opposite the stage.
Octavius unbuttons his suit jacket, taking a seat, then taps the chair on his right. “Here, Leilani. I want you close in case my brother calls. I sent him your picture.”
When the hell did he take my picture?
I grit my teeth, and sit, crossing my legs. Blaze sits too, just as the auctioneer, in a white tuxedo, steps onto the stage.
“Welcome to an evening of exclusivity and opportunity...”
I drown out his monologue, eyes darting to Octavius’s wristwatch. My body hums and my throat feels dryer than paper.
Doubt creeps in. Fear rises in my chest, threatening to choke me. It’s been about fourteen hours since I called Anton. Every second that ticks by brings him closer.
And Koby’s not here.
Blissfully unaware of his imminent demise, Octavius leans back, sipping whiskey, watching the show with a faint smirk. “Your events never disappoint, Noretto. Next month, there’ll be a special addition. Anton’s overseeing a delicate transfer tonight.”
Blaze’s fingers tighten on his glass, but his voice stays level. “I didn’t think you trusted anyone else with your merchandise.”
“I don’t,” Octavius says, swirling his drink. “But he’s eager to prove himself.”
Within minutes, the first girl steps onto the stage, shielding her eyes from the blinding spotlights. She can’t be much older than I am, but she doesn’t seem one bit concerned.
Koby told me most of them know what they’re signing up for. That they’re eager to earn money with their bodies.
I didn’t believe him. I thought he was trying to soothe me.
Now, I’m not so sure.
The girl smiles, fluttering her eyelashes and twirling once the bidding begins. The murmur of voices dies down once paddles start rising, and the auctioneer shouts out numbers.
Ten grand. Fifteen. Twenty.
Going once.
Going twice.
Sold.
I sip my champagne, feigning interest in what’s happening on stage, but little by little, I’m angling my body to keep an eye on the door.
Three girls have been sold before I catch a movement there as Koby and Ryder enter. The tension in my shoulders bleeds away, replaced by something steadier. I’m still scared, but it’s a different kind of fear... all teeth and determination.
Confusion and disbelief ripples through the crowd, conversations swelling. A few tables away, someone asks are those Willard’s men? loud enough for Octavius to hear.
It’s staged. The whole thing. The questions raised by Carter’s trusted allies, planted by Noretto for the sole purpose of ensuring Grey notices Koby and Ryder’s presence.
He looks over his shoulder, eyebrows pulling together.
“Ah,” Blaze says, not missing a beat. “I didn’t think yesterday’s message meant anything. Apparently Willard has a proposition and these two have been sent to discuss it privately after the auction. Thought it was a joke, to be honest.”
Octavius studies them for a moment, suspicion warring with curiosity in his eyes. “Carter Willard... I wonder what he wants.” His lips curve. “I guess we’ll see.”
He beckons one of his bodyguards. “Watch them,” he says.
Koby and Ryder pause near the back, exchanging words with the usher, who shows them to an empty table. As if he can feel me watching, Koby’s eyes meet mine...
And the room between us falls away. The noise, the lights, the weight of what’s coming. The what-ifs and doubts become irrelevant.
The room is full of monsters... but this one fights for me.
My lungs decompress.
My spine straightens.
I lift my chin.
Game on.