Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Matvey
"She's only twenty years old, but she's got legs like a runway model. I'm sure you gentlemen can imagine how it'd feel to have those wrapped around your waist..." The auctioneer's voice carried to every corner of the room.
The filth that followed made my ears feel contaminated. Who the fuck came up with this "virginity auction" bullshit?
The girl on the platform wore a pale blue bandeau top and a white miniskirt. She was trembling all over. It was the kind of thing that got certain people off.
"See? I'm a genius. With merchandise like this, my auction house is guaranteed money."
I didn't respond. Just swirled my glass. I didn't approve of this human trafficking operation, but it wasn't my problem. My father had taught me a lesson with his whip and plenty of blood—sympathy was the most useless emotion.
Besides, if this guy hadn't kept insisting, I never would've set foot in a place like this.
"Victor, let's hear your terms," I said to the man across from me. "You know my rules. The Bykov family doesn't deal in drugs."
Victor Marchetti. This drug lord who spent his days swimming in New York's underground narcotics trade. Right now he wore a leather jacket and jeans, looking like a punk—nothing like a Mexican cartel boss.
The Marchetti family had been dealing since the marijuana days and accumulated serious wealth. These last few years, they'd been bringing in new products to expand their market.
"Of course I know that." His gaunt frame slouched back, heavy dark circles under his eyes. "What I'm offering you is legitimate rock business. Not powder."
He leaned forward, practically sprawling across the table as he pushed a small pouch toward me.
The opening gaped. Inside were rough-cut natural diamonds of various sizes.
"What, looking to go legit?" I glanced at him.
"I need work that's less dangerous. Apache's got too high a body count."
His yellowed teeth showed through his grin. Made my lips press thin. Honestly, I despised dealers with no bottom line down to my bones.
This bastard didn't just peddle fentanyl-laced fake prescriptions to addicts—he dragged regular people down with them to expand his customer base. As long as he made money, he didn't give a shit how many families he destroyed.
That kind of anything-goes dealing wasn't bratva style.
"If you want to go into the diamond business, you can use legitimate channels," I said, sipping my whiskey. "Diamond export isn't complicated."
"Matvey, you know what I mean." His brow furrowed. "The Kimberley Process would cost me a fortune!"
"My channels aren't cheap either."
"Better than handing that money to those trough pigs." He let out a dry laugh and sat back in his chair.
The room went quiet.
The amber light refracting through the crystal chandelier gave this oil-painting-lined room a medieval feel. I had to admit—decent design.
"This bitch is mine!" A pot-bellied middle-aged man stood up, announcing his claim greedily.
The girl disappeared on the platform elevator. Her sobbing faded with her.
"This is the best view in the whole auction house, closest to the merchandise too. We can see everything, even the expressions on every piece." Victor gave an awkward laugh. "See anything you like?"
"This how you do business?" My eyes met his. "Don't get confused. Bratva isn't some two-bit operation."
Victor's smile froze.
"Matvey, I knew it... you're a real pain in the ass." Victor grudgingly lit a cigar. "Name your price."
"I want ten percent of your profits," I said.
I knew his numbers. Ten percent was definitely in my favor.
"No room to negotiate?" He took a hard drag on his cigar. "That's no small amount!"
"You could choose to be a law-abiding citizen instead." I pushed the pouch back across the table.
Victor's expression tightened instantly.
"You can think about it. But you don't have long." I jerked my chin toward the decadent stage outside. "Once this auction ends, I'm gone."
Pin-drop silence descended on the booth again. The buyer's section erupted in unprecedented cheers. My fingers drummed lightly on the table, waiting for the answer I wanted.
"This piece, I'm certain our distinguished guests will love!" The auctioneer's voice rang out.
I glanced toward center stage. A curvy girl stood there.
Her skin was pale, looked soft. She wore no red lips or heavy eyeliner—just simple makeup that let her wet blue eyes show through. Fear lived in them, but more than that—innocence and defiance.
Heat shot straight to my groin. I tugged at my strangling tie. I inexplicably wanted to wreck this girl, make those clean eyes show something else.
"F-cup! Exceptionally rare!"
F-cup? Bullshit! Those tits were definitely bigger than F.
Those pale, soft mounds hung on her chest with stunning visual weight. Like one breath from her would make them burst free from those few black fabric strips. Combined with the blond hair spilling over her shoulders, this nearly naked body radiated a kind of corrupted beauty.
Damn. Absolutely mouthwatering. I was already hard as hell and aching.
No woman had ever ignited such fierce desire in me. This feeling was goddamn terrible.
"Those tits on her would feel fucking amazing." Victor ground his cigar into the ashtray. "Stacked women like that are sensitive and can go all night. Makes a hell of a toy."
"Plus she looks pure," he continued, corners of his mouth lifting. "Her orgasm face must be..."
This bastard! What the fuck was he saying?
"Watch your mouth," I cut him off coldly. "Save that gutter talk for your own bedroom."
The crowd below competed with bids. The price quickly hit two hundred thousand.
"One man can't possibly satisfy this slut! Why don't I let my boys run a train on her?" The bidding man looked determined to win, shouting to the crowd with a lewd grin.
Cheers and jeers erupted from the auction floor.
"Come on, Boris, don't break her the first night!"
"Don't you worry about that. She's got three holes plus those slutty tits—servicing four guys at once is no fucking problem!" Boris laughed back.
"Well, at least let her live till morning!"
A film of moisture covered the girl's blue eyes. I could feel her desperation.
Something dark moved through my chest. I wanted to go downstairs and snap those bastards' necks.
"Matvey, if you like her, I'll have her sent to your bed tonight. How about that?"
I drained my glass and glanced at Victor beside me. When would he finally shut that chattering mouth? Or maybe he really needed me to help him out with a welding torch.
"Five hundred thousand," I said into the booth's microphone.
The attendant beside me immediately raised the exclusive black-and-gold bidding paddle.
The noisy hall went silent for a moment.
Then Boris jumped from his chair, face flushed. "Shit! Some idiot has the balls to take what's mine—"
He looked up toward the second floor. When he saw me, his cursing died in his throat. The arrogance drained from his face. His whole body started shaking. He ducked back into his seat, didn't dare make a sound.
"Five hundred thousand!" The auctioneer's excited voice rang out. "The highest bid of tonight's auction, from our most distinguished guest on the second floor!"
Every eye in the venue fixed on the second-floor booth. Including the girl's. She stared at me with wide eyes full of shock and relief, seemingly... with worship too?
Did she think I was her savior? Then she was too naive. She had no idea I was already imagining how I'd enjoy those sexy tits of hers tonight.
"Five hundred thousand once!"
"Five hundred thousand twice!"
"Five hundred thousand three times! Sold!"
No one else bid. The gavel fell as expected.
I hooked the corner of my lips at the girl and mouthed silently. "I got you."
She seemed stunned, staring at me blankly. Before the elevator carried her away, her pitiful gaze stayed locked on me.
"Boris is a small-time operator who popped up in the South District. Started with smuggling and pimping. Got a few guns and thinks he's somebody." Victor leaned close. "If he's in your way, I'll have my guys chop him up and dump him in the river."
"That's too easy."
My people would make this ignorant bastard understand what it meant to beg for life and be denied death.
"But I'm really glad there was merchandise here you liked." Victor didn't ask more, picked up his glass.
His man immediately stepped forward to refill mine.
"Consider it my good faith." His gaze returned to the stage. A new girl was already being pushed onto the platform. "I'll give you that girl. On the house."
"No need." I pulled out my checkbook. "She's mine. I pay for myself."
Victor stared at the check for a long time before tucking it into his jacket pocket.
"Bratva really spends freely." He drained his glass, smiling apologetically. "Guess you can spare my little profit too."
"Eight percent max," I stood. "Or you can go back and pay your taxes like a good citizen."
I usually didn't compromise on profits. But tonight was an exception.
Victor immediately stood, unable to suppress his smile.
"Deal! I'll prepare the contract right away! Matvey, I fucking found the right man!"
He waved his hand. His guy immediately jogged off.
Eight percent profit was naturally within my calculations, but this guy's grin made me uncomfortable—like he'd gotten some advantage.
Bottom line, if I didn't know how much profit he was making, I'd definitely be pointing a gun at his head asking if I'd asked for too little.
"That woman will be cleaned up and sent to your bed soon." Victor wore a lecherous expression. "I've reserved the top-floor suite for you. You'll love it."
Cleaned up? I thought she looked perfectly satisfying as she was. After all, my excited cock didn't lie.
"There are many more pieces tonight. All virgins. You can pick a few more." He gestured toward the auction platform. "Every man likes virgins. Getting their first time all at once is incredibly thrilling!"
Yes, he was right. But I was one of the few exceptions. I was only interested in women special enough to catch my attention.
His man returned quickly, holding two still-warm contracts.
The contract promised me eight percent of his profits, and I needed to help him complete the diamond smuggling, getting his diamonds worth tens of millions safely to Belgium. The contract was clean. I signed.
"Real pleasure doing business." The moment I set down the pen, he grabbed one contract like he feared I'd change my mind. "Happy cooperation!"
"I'm leaving." I had no interest in his pleasantries.
I had more important business. That woman's beautiful eyes wouldn't leave my mind. I was going crazy wanting her.
"You sure you don't want a few more?" Victor called out.
"No," I said without looking back. "She's enough."
Damn. I couldn't wait to taste her.