Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Killian
The scent of cigarettes and whiskey clings to the air.
Men in suits gather around the room, their identities concealed beneath grotesque masks.
They revel in their anonymity—let’s call them cowards—hiding behind layers of bravado.
The bartender slides down a glass of whiskey on the rocks, avoiding my gaze as if she fears being chosen as one of tonight’s prizes.
“Our first woman of the night is five-four, nineteen, and she knows how to suck the life out of a man,” he announces, his voice dripping with malice as he leans over the podium with a smirk.
A woman in red lingerie is thrust onto the stage, her wide, terrified eyes darting around the room, taking in the eager faces of the men who are already nodding in approval.
I feel a sour taste rise in my throat as I watch her spin, forced to display herself like a piece of meat.
I grit my teeth, disgust gnawing at me. These men are either buyers or spectators, and neither role sits well with me.
Nico Vidalia parades around, smiling and shaking hands. He doesn't bother to wear a mask, and some part of me respects him for that. He's at least willing to admit the monster he is while the rest of them continue to hide in the shadows.
“Aye, Killian,” Nico says, working his way around the room, coming closer to me. “Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight. I thought you were off back to the States.”
“Harder to leave than I thought,” I chuckle, glancing at the woman on stage, prepared to play the part I have to for the sake of selling this whole thing. “Just need a night out before I go back to my own hellhole.”
“Anything for a fellow Romani mate,” Nico claps me on the shoulder, laughing and shaking his head. “Maybe you’ll fancy one of the girls from the auction. I’ll sort you out, on the house.”
“I’m not in the market for that, mate.” I light up a cigarette. “How do you even have the stomach for this?”
“When money’s on the table, I’ll stomach anything.
We start with the less desirable ones. They're the ones I’m just happy to let go for a few quid.
And it makes the blokes who aren’t keen to pay at first a bit more desperate.
It’s all a game, aye. As the women become more desirable, these blokes begin to panic that there aren’t many left.
That’s when the real money starts coming in.
Supply and demand, you understand, I’m sure. ”
I try my best not to sneer at him. Money talks, but this level of evil is even beyond me.
“We got something good tonight. I think you’ll change your mind.” He leads the way over to a table, sitting down on one of the bench seats.
I slide into the other side of the booth across from me, motioning over one of the girls with bottles in their hands. Two glasses are set in front of us, whiskey poured into each. “Unless you’re looking to take out some Russians, there’s nothing here that will sway me.”
Nico grabs his glass, swirling it around and looking at the amber liquid inside. “You know, I've been in this game a long time.”
“Clearly doing well for yourself.”
“Thanks to you,” he shoots me a look. “If you hadn’t taken down Margo.”
I take a sip of the whiskey, shrugging. “We Romani need to stick together.”
“That we do.” A cheeky grin crosses his face. “Heard that Costello family took down some of your lads and are now letting Russians move in on your turf.”
My blood boils. How would he know that? “Last I heard, you're working your way through Spain and considering pushing down to Morocco. What would you know about what’s going on over in the States?”
“The circle of power.” He grins, taking a long sip of his drink before setting the glass on the polished black table.
“You’re a legend out here. Taking down Margo, the biggest trafficker in the UK, and you staged a coup to take down Jacob Reilly all within a month’s time.
You know if you came back here and we teamed up, we’d be a force no one would reckon with. ”
“I’m going to need a bit more than that to convince me.”
As he laughs, I glance at the stage, watching one woman come off.
She heads to a curtain in the back, looking absolutely terrified of what's going to wait for her there.
A man peels off from the crowd, trailing behind her.
There have been seven or eight women since the first now, all of them selling quickly.
You'd think men with this much power wouldn't have trouble getting a woman.
“And now for the final prize for the night.
We have a twenty-three-year-old brunette bombshell.
She might not be a virgin like some of the other girls, and might be the oldest one here tonight, but that just means she knows how to show a man a good time, don't you think, fellas?” The man standing behind the podium leers at all the people laughing and grinning.
“The most interesting part? She's Tommaso Andretti's daughter.”
What did I just hear?
The room goes silent at that. I don't think there's a man in here who doesn't know Tommaso Andretti and the work he did for the Costellos that put them on the map over here. From my understanding, most of those opinions are good as long as they don’t turn into an enemy.
My head snaps to Nico, whose smile lights up his whole face. If one of the Andretti sisters is missing, then Darius and Cameron would surely have reached out for my help. “How did you manage that?”
With a shrug, he says, “You’ve got your resources and I’ve got mine.”
But when Nico stands up and leaves the table, I know that he's going to make a play for her. And if he gets his hands on her, he's going to make a show of it. He's going to take his time slowly breaking her, and he's going to make her family suffer in the process. Something isn’t clicking, though. If Nico wanted to keep a girl, he would, so if he’s betting on her, it means he’s spending money that isn’t his. Was he buying her for someone?
“Here she comes,” the man says, motioning to the curtain that opens.
I watch as a woman with short hair strides out with her head held high like she doesn't have a care in the world. Her posture would make you think she’s the one running the show as her eyes circle the crowd like she's looking for her first victim.
Nobody would know she was scared to be up there if they didn't look for the slight tremble in her hand and the way the bottom lip was pulled into her mouth for just a second before she plastered on a smile. It’s smart on her end.
I wonder if she knows that most of these men are looking for fear, and if she doesn't show it, she'll eliminate half the room from purchasing her. The more brutal half.
There’s not a chance in hell that it’s Darius’ wife.
She’s too feral to fall victim to trafficking.
It’s not Cameron’s wife either. She doesn’t have a big set of tits on her like the one on stage.
It’s one of the younger Andretti sisters.
It’s not uncommon to change the appearance of the woman after they have been kidnapped.
It could be as simple as cutting their hair or dyeing it another color.
If it wasn’t announced she was an Andretti, I wouldn’t have been able to tell off the bat.
She stands in the middle of the stage, her black lingerie contrasting with her tanned skin that’s covered in baby oil.
The lace cups of the breasts barely hide her dusky nipples.
The thin strip of fabric between her legs also leaves very little to the imagination.
And those long, toned legs seem to go on for a mile.
“We're going to start the bidding at fifty thousand given her name,” the man says. “Would you look at that? Fifty thousand. Anybody want to go fifty-five? Sixty. Sixty-five. Seventy?”
The numbers keep climbing higher and higher. I watch as men's hands go up and down, ping-ponging around the room.
When it's just Nico and one other man left, I raise my hand. “Two hundred and fifty thousand.”
The man behind the podium's eyes go wide. “Two hundred and fifty! Is anybody willing to top that?”
“Two hundred and sixty,” Nico calls, glaring over at me, one eyebrow raising. He gives a slight shake of his head, a clear signal to step down and let him have her.
If I keep pushing, I'm going to make an enemy.
An enemy I don't know and don't understand.
At least with the Russians, I know their moves.
I know how they play the game. Nico and his people are a different ball game, though.
We both grew up in Romani households, and we were raised to be as savage or manipulative as necessary to make ends meet.
The Andretti girl’s eyes are wild before they dart to mine in the crowd. Her lips part slightly. That’s when I realize which one of them it is. Liliana. Part of me is eager to save her because Cameron is a friend of mine, but the larger part of me knows I could use her to my advantage.
“Two hundred and seventy thousand,” I shout, the room going wild, men leaning to each other and whispering.
I hate the way my cock twitches as Nico’s hand shoots in the air.
“Two hundred and eighty,” he says, his voice echoing around the room, more whispers going up.
“Five hundred thousand dollars.”
Nico's jaw hits the ground. He doesn’t have to purchase her; he could have left her alone, but he is prideful, and this is an ego boost—selling off an Andretti girl. Now he pays the price of that ego of his by losing to me.
“I have five hundred thousand,” the man behind the podium says, waving toward Liliana. “Is anybody willing to top that for a night with her? Could be a month, could be a year. What you do with her is none of my business. Only your money is.”
Nico looks like he's coming up with ways to get more money.
He says something to one of the men beside him, his jaw tight, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
When the man shakes his head, Nico stands up quickly, his chair clattering against the ground.
He looks at the man behind the podium, giving a tight shake of his head.
“Sold for five hundred thousand to you!” The man's eyes lock on mine. “If you'll proceed over behind the curtain, we'll have her ready to go for you in a moment.”
As I stand up, Liliana gives me a look as though I’ve come to save her.
Silly little girl.