Chapter 8
8
ALARIC
I swirl the whiskey in my glass as my eyes scan the room. In the dark, it’s hard to see faces in the crowd. I can’t help but peer around, wondering which of these men—or women—might bid on Birdie. And more importantly, who will win her?
It doesn’t matter to me.
It shouldn’t matter to me. I just met this girl yesterday. I don’t know her, and I will effortlessly go back to my regular life after tonight, unbothered by what happens here this weekend.
Or at least, I should.
There’s a haughty laugh from the table to my left. Peering over, I narrow my eyes as I stare at the bloated, sweaty drunk mess of a man as he drags an unsuspecting server onto his lap. She fakes a smile before forcing her way out of his arms.
I level a glare of disgust in his direction.
What if he wins Birdie? Will I be able to sleep tonight?
Can I live with myself?
She showed me tenderness last night, and normally an act of kindness doesn’t sway my decisions, but this girl is too sweet to ignore. She’s so innocent. So pure. Someone like her would bring a light to my life that would only make me a weaker man. Weaknesses are targets.
There are a lot of very powerful men in this room tonight. Many of them were made enemies by Birdie’s father through bad business deals and millions of dollars lost. If I align myself with her, does that put the target on my back?
I haven’t prospered this long by forming bad alliances. I work alone. I live alone. And if I’m smart, I might be able to squeeze another forty years out of this miserable existence.
Just as the crowd quiets, Reaper returns to the stage with a charismatic smile. “What a lovely treat we have next. Come on out now, sweetie,” he murmurs to someone offstage.
Emerging from the dark corner is a pale naked figure. My eyes land first on the supple pair of breasts and soft pink nipples, pebbled tight in the cold room. The crowd whistles and cheers at the display of nudity as the girl ambles across the stage.
When she meets Reaper in the center, he turns her to face us.
My whiskey glass lands on the rich carpeted floor with a thunk as I burst out of my seat and stare in shock at Birdie standing on stage without a stitch of clothing on her body.
“This lovely little thing is Miss Birdie Windsor. Only nineteen and a virgin . But bid wisely, my friends. It’s not just her innocence you’ll be winning, but her hand in marriage, as well. There’s a sturdy contract to be signed for this pretty little bird.”
I can’t tear my eyes away from Birdie standing up there, stark naked. Her face is set in an obstinate expression, but I can see the tremble in her hands from here. She’s shaking like a leaf, and it makes my molars grind just to see it.
“Turn around and bend over, sweetie! Let us see how pretty you are,” a lewd voice from the dark crowd yells. Birdie doesn’t budge, staring straight ahead as the crowd reacts to the outburst with cheers and whistles. I let out a growl.
“Sit down,” someone hisses at me from behind, but I don’t move. My eyes quickly scan the room, but it’s far too dark to make out much past Birdie illuminated like porcelain on stage. I wish she could see me, but I know with that heavy spotlight on her face, she’s practically blind.
“The bidding starts at five hundred thousand for this sexy little virgin bride.”
“Five-fifty,” someone angrily shouts, and it takes me a moment to realize the voice that uttered that bid was mine.
“Can I get six hundred?” Reaper responds, slinging an arm around her shoulders as if they’re close friends. She holds her stoic, emotionless expression.
“Six hundred,” the grotesque man beside me shouts.
“Seven-fifty,” I reply.
All sense and rationale are gone. I know I should sit down. I should rethink this. But my eyes are glued to her sweet form, remembering how those very hips felt in my hands last night. Waking up from a nightmare to the feel of her touch and the warmth in her eyes is etched in my memory.
“Eight hundred,” another voice calls.
“Nine,” I grunt.
I’m determined now. I don’t care about alliances or money or prosperity. Rushing that stage to carry her off in my arms will get me killed and do her no good. But emptying my bank account will, and I don’t care if that’s what it takes.
“Nine-fifty,” the beast to my left calls.
“One million,” I say before he’s even had a chance to finish.
Reaper smiles menacingly. Birdie squints as if she’s trying to find me. Can she recognize my voice?
I’m here, Princess. I’m here.
“ I didn’t know you were in the market for a wife, Mr. Stone,” Reaper croons. “Or is it the promise of fresh pussy rousing your bids?”
At the mention of my name, Birdie’s expression changes. Her features soften, eyebrows leaping upward as she lets out a gasp. I find myself stepping toward her.
“I’ve clearly won, Reaper. Call it!”
“One-five,” the disgusting man next to me calls.
I sneer in his direction. “Two million.” I growl. Turning back to the stage, I shout, “Call it!”
Reaper chuckles with a sinister smile. “Two million going once…”
My fists are clenched so tight I’m surprised my knuckles haven’t snapped yet.
“Going twice…”
“Goddammit, Reaper,” I mutter lowly. He’s drawing this out to toy with me.
I’ve never been a hothead. I make cool, calm, and calculated decisions. I don’t throw two million dollars at an auctioneer in a fit of cavemen-like territorial rage. My vision is littered with red flags because none of this behavior is like me, and I know it’s all her fault.
She’s too beautiful. Too innocent. Too sweet and perfect. And she needs me .
I’m a fucking fool to fall for this, but it’s too late now.
I’m a fool with a new wife and two million dollars lighter.
“Sold! Congratulations, Mr. Stone. You’ll have fun with this one,” Reaper says as he carefully leads Birdie off the stage, muttering something else to her I barely hear. I’m too busy shrugging off my jacket and rushing across the room to where she’s standing.
When her eyes meet mine in the dim light, I notice the way they sparkle with excitement. I quickly throw my jacket over her shoulders, which only reaches to the middle of her ass, but it’s better than nothing. Then, I hoist her into my arms and usher her out of the room.
We slip out into the brighter hall of the house. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I mutter darkly as I walk with her cradled against my chest toward the stairs leading to my room.
We make it halfway across the grand space when two large men in black suits step in front of us.
“Get the fuck out of the way. You have my money already,” I spit at the men, but they don’t move.
“Mr. Stone.” A woman’s voice echoes through the massive hall from behind us.
“What do you want?” I reply with a snarl as I turn toward Clarissa Windsor. She’s wearing a smug expression. There is a young woman at her side that might as well be her clone but with bleached hair. Then there’s Violet, who looks so tense someone could probably snap her in half. I hate seeing her by that woman’s side as if she truly wants to be there, which I know she doesn’t.
My jacket isn’t long enough to cover Birdie’s lower half. I can feel her fidgeting, trying to hide herself from these men and their wandering eyes.
“We have business to attend to,” the woman says, causing my brow to furrow.
“I have no business with you,” I reply with bitterness as I start toward the stairs.
“There are conditions of your winning bid, Alaric.”
I stop and stare back at her, waiting for her to continue.
“Reaper mentioned them while Birdie was on stage. The guest with the highest bid complies with all the terms of the purchase, or the deal is nullified.” Her voice is calm and playful, and it grates on my nerves.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Her patience wears thin, judging by the tense expression on her face. From under her arm, she produces a stack of papers. With a huff, she walks them to the center of the room, where a large glass table sits. There, she slams the papers down and points to a line on the first page.
“We don’t have all night, Mr. Stone. Per the agreement of the bid, you must sign the contract and abide by all the terms within. One of which explains that the engagement be consummated by the stroke of midnight tonight.”
The room goes silent as we all stare at Clarissa. It feels as if the blood is being drained from my face. Slowly, I lower Birdie to the floor, but she stays glued to my side. She presses herself under my arm and against my chest. I squeeze her tighter as I glare at her stepmom with rage boiling under my skin.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I mutter.
“If you won’t sign the contract, it’s not too late to put Birdie back on that stage for another patron to bid on. Someone who will be willing to do what needs to be done.”
“No!” Violet shrieks.
Clarissa gestures toward the two men behind us, both of whom take a step toward Birdie. She lets out a scream as I hold her closer.
“Stop!” I bellow. “Fine. I’ll sign it.”
Not once in my life have I ever signed a contract without reading it over with my lawyer in meticulous detail. But right now, the situation is a bit too dire for such formalities.
With Birdie still buried against my chest, I walk over to the table and stare down at the contract. Picking up the pen, I glance over the terms listed.
Birdie will be my financial responsibility.
An official wedding ceremony must take place within thirty days.
Her debts and estate are transferred to me.
The engagement must be consummated by midnight with witnesses of the seller’s choice.
If Clarissa wants me to promise I’ll make love to Birdie, I’ll promise her whatever she wants. I have no intention of hurting this girl, but Clarissa doesn’t need to know that.
“Why the fuck would you care if we consummate? What difference does it make to you?” I ask.
“I want to ensure that she becomes your burden and can’t come back to me. What ties a woman to a man more than the prospect of a child?”
“I would never come back to you,” Birdie says through her teeth.
I roll my eyes as I pick up the pen. “You’re fucking sick.”
Quickly scanning through the contract again, I read it quickly one more time.
Birdie will be my financial responsibility.
An official wedding ceremony must take place within thirty days.
Her debts and estate are transferred to me.
The engagement must be consummated by midnight with witnesses of the seller’s choice.
Wait…what the fuck?
“Witnesses?” I ask as I lift my head to glare at Clarissa.
“You don’t think we’re just going to take your word, do you?”
“You’re going to…watch them?” Violet asks in a soft, frightened-sounding tone.
“ We’re going to watch them,” Clarissa replies.
My nostrils flare as my gaze dances from one woman to the next. I’ve encountered some terrible, disgusting people in my life, but what this woman is doing to these two is horrific on a different level. She must know her daughter is in love with her stepdaughter, and I’m convinced she’s doing this to torment them both.
“Can we hurry this up, please?” Clarissa snaps.
I glance down at my watch. It’s almost eleven. My gaze slides over to Birdie, who is still snugly pressed to my side.
I can’t do this to her. I can’t force her into this if it’s not what she wants. There has to be another way.
“Let me offer you more money to take this out of the contract,” I say, lifting my angry glare toward Clarissa.
“I don’t want your money, Alaric. Sign the contract.”
“There’s no way Reaper would allow this,” I argue, looking around for anyone at the auction to back me up on this. “It has to be consensual.”
“It is consensual,” Clarissa replies proudly. “Isn’t it, Birdie?” Her cruel glare lands on the woman standing next to me. It’s emotional manipulation. It has to be. This girl is so desperate to be out of this woman’s clutches that she’d actually agree to this.
My blood practically runs cold as she takes the pen from my hand and quickly scribbles her name next to the space left for me.
“It’s fine,” her soft voice mumbles at my side. “Just sign it, Alaric.” She drops the pen onto the paper and looks up at me expectantly.
“Don’t you understand what this means?” I ask. There’s no way she could want this.
“Yes,” Birdie murmurs, staring into my eyes. There is so much grace and confidence in her gaze that it shatters something inside me. When she turns toward her stepmom, her expression hardens as she adds, “It means I’ll be free.”