Chapter 5
“Auction? What the hell does that mean?” I ask Abaddon, who has come to meet me for the second time in just a few days.
About a year and a half ago, I hired him to carry out my mission. During that time, we’ve only seen each other half a dozen times, so when he called me early this morning asking for another face-to-face meeting, I knew it was serious.
“An auction of women. My informant says she’ll be put up as a tasting, not for permanent sale. Someone will pay to keep her for about a month.”
“Like merchandise?” I ask, fucking shocked.
Of course, I’ve read about human trafficking, but even knowing the world is a fucked-up place, the thought of women being auctioned off like objects or food is unbelievable.
“Yes. To them, their will means nothing. The Romani is older than the ones they usually sell, which is unusual, but from what I’ve heard, she’s stunning, exotic. So, most likely, that bastard Angelo expects to make a fortune from her in this sampling. The bidding starts at a hundred grand.”
The amount doesn’t shock me. The sum is trivial to me. But how the hell did Abaddon even know about it?
For the first time, I study the man I hired more closely.
I’ve got good instincts, and Abaddon came highly recommended by a close friend who had already used his services; otherwise, I never would have met him. You don’t find mercenaries on a restaurant menu.
Even so, questions begin to flood my head.
“No,” he says.
“What?”
“I can read you, Gianni. You’re wondering if I’ve ever kept one of those women for myself. The answer is no. I’m a sinner, not an abuser. I don’t take advantage of the vulnerable. Now, let’s focus on what matters: I think we should bid on her.”
“Yes. Pay whatever it takes and free her.”
“That’s not what I meant. If you’re thinking of saving Elodie just to ease your conscience now that you’ve seen this ugly side of the world, remember there are at least five more like her being auctioned off by Angelo and his uncle every month.
You’ll never save them all. There are too many, scattered across the planet.
The Sicilian Mob isn’t the only one profiting off sexual slavery. ”
“Fuck!” I rake both hands through my hair, knowing he’s right but unable to hide my disgust for men who exploit women to satisfy their perversions and make money.
“What I meant when I said we should bid on her is that we should keep her with us for a while,” he says.
“What?”
“I can find a place where she’ll be safe.
Angelo won’t know where she is. When the month passes and I don’t return her, he’ll think I crossed him and kept his ‘merchandise’ without paying the full price.
He’ll panic and expose himself, because there’s a lot more at stake here than just taking the Romani girl away.
If word gets out about his personal war with Beau, he’s fucked, as I’ve already explained. ”
“You think his uncle would kill him?”
“Yes, without a doubt. Blood means a lot to them, but traitors don’t get second chances. Starting a fight with Beau, for whatever reason, without Brambilla’s knowledge, will be seen as an act of treason, because it could harm their entire organization. He’ll be killed. Either way, you win.”
“I don’t want it like that. He’s the last of the bastards. I made a promise to my grandmother. It has to be by my hand.”
“Let me handle it, Gianni. You’re not a killer. You’re a businessman. You made a promise, and you’re fulfilling it, but you don’t need to get blood on your hands.”
I’ve already turned toward the car, but I stop and face him again.
“Don’t think you know me, Abaddon. I may look civilized, a man who respects the law above all else.
That’s true, until someone messes with my family.
The moment that happens, the blood of my ancestors takes over.
An Andresano never lets an offense go unpunished.
And in this case, they went a step further.
They destroyed my grandmother. They’ve been destroying our women for generations.
There will be no forgiveness, no mercy.”
I unlock the car.
“You said something about blood on my hands? I’m no hypocrite.
I’ve had blood on them since the moment I hired you.
It makes no difference whether his death comes by my hand or yours.
Either way, I’ll still be a killer. And you know what?
I don’t care. More than anything, I want to watch the life drain from the eyes of the last living descendant of those bastards. ”
Days Later
“It’s about to start,” I hear Abaddon’s voice say.
It comes directly from my watch, and I know I don’t need to give any response.
Through the movement of the camera clipped to the leather jacket he’s wearing, I get a sense of the large, dark room.
No clear faces, only shadows. Men hidden in the dark.
Perverts concealing their true nature and identity while secretly taking part in the acquisition of defenseless women.
“I have free rein to bid on her?”
“Yes. Pay whatever it takes.”