Page 18 of King of Desire (Kings of Las Vegas #2)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Honeyeh

I stand before one the scariest men I’ve ever met. I can tell he’s Russian by his accent, and Brittany confirms my assumption when she says, “Honeyeh, this is my boss, Mr. Ivanov.”

“Dimitri,” he rumbles, looking me over. I have on the same sundress that I wore to my interview at Triston’s. I didn’t know what else to wear.

My hair is still mostly in the loose curls that the stylist placed them in last night, but I had to wash off the smudged makeup.

When I called Brittany, she was at my house within thirty minutes. “This is so exciting,” she gushed as she pulled me out of my place, Darius giving me a curious stare as we passed.

“Who is she?” he asked, looking suspicious.

“My friend,” I said with a weak smile. “We’re going shopping.”

“In your interview dress?”

Crap. I suck at lying. “I need clothes for work.” I lied again and then dashed for the door.

Now I wish I hadn’t. Nothing about this feels right.

I don’t want to call him Dimitri. I don’t want to call him anything. I want to go home. “I don’t think I should?—”

He gives me a smile which only makes him look more frightening. “Sit.” It’s not a request and I find myself sliding into the chair.

Crap. Why do I always just follow commands? My hands twist together. But Brittany touches my shoulder. “Honeyeh needs ten thousand by tomorrow to pay for her brother’s surgery.”

“Ten thousand is a lot for any woman to make, even one as beautiful as you.” He’s looking me over again, like I’m steak at the meat counter.

“Well, she does have something special,” Brittany says in this excited voice that makes me look up at her with a question in my eyes. Is she enjoying this?

“Really?” Dimitri leans over the desk, his eyes narrowing.

“She’s a virgin,” Brittany grins. “I know that’s big money.”

A squeak comes out of my mouth. I’m not sure I even want to be here, let alone share such personal information.

Dimitri’s brows cock. “Can that be confirmed?”

“What?” I cry, standing. “No. I’ve changed my mind. Thank you for your time, but I need to get home.”

“I’ll give you your price.” And then he opens the drawer on the right side of the desk, pulling out a wad of cash that he slaps on the desk. “What’s more, it will be a requirement that the man who buys you?—”

“Buys me,” I repeat in a strangled cry.

“A night with you,” he corrects. “Must stay here and use one of our rooms where you’ll have the protection of our guards.”

“Tonight? That soon?” I don’t know what I expected, but I need more time. Time to think. This is nothing like I thought and I’m sure I’ve made a mistake. I should have called Mason. No. I should have asked Triston.

But last night was just so…

My eyes are filling with tears again, but I swallow them down, looking at the money. I can’t follow my heart. That was never an option, even if I wanted it to be.

Do I want my brother to have that transplant? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Dimitri gives me another creepy smile before he pulls a contract from the center drawer and slaps it, along with a pen, in front of me. “Just sign, agreeing to the terms.”

Contract. I’ve never hated the word more. I skim the document. Once I sign, there is no changing my mind.

Brittany stands over me, tapping the back of my arm. “Go on. Do it. There’s no other way you can make the money.”

Why does she care so much? Would she feel better if I worked like she did? But drawing in a breath, I slash my name on the line.

“For Darius,” I mumble as I push the paper back.

Brittany claps as Dimitri takes the contract and tucks it away again. Then, he pulls another, smaller bundle of money out of his other drawer and hands it to Brittany. She scoops it up, shoves it in her purse and heads out the door without a backward glance.

I stare after her, my mouth slightly ajar.

When I first met her, I thought she might want something. Now I know she did. She just sold me.

But I don’t have time to think on it as Dimitri comes around the desk, his hand sliding under my elbow.

Unlike when Triston touches me, I shrink away, but his grip is firm. “Time to get ready.”

“So soon,” I gasp.

“We’ll have the auction at six o’clock. You should eat. Relax. Then you’ll be dressed and made ready. Some of the bids will be done online, but others will be in person.”

“But is that even enough time to find the right…” I stop, knowing I don’t need to tell him his business. I’m just stalling.

He moves me toward the door and down the hall. “Trust me, you’ll be posted on our website in the next five minutes. Buyers will be flocking here.”

My breath catches in my chest. I don’t want to do this. Any of it. “Please. I don’t think…”

“Too late, Honeyeh. You’ve signed the papers.”

“The money…” I ask, attempting to control the panic.

“Will be yours as soon as it’s done.”

“But how do I know you’ll pay me?” I ask, trying to tug out of his grasp.

He stops, his hand tightening. “I am a man of my word. I want you to be a woman of yours.”

That cuts me deep and silences me.

He turns us into a room on the left, small and old, with a worn couch that makes me wince.

He lets go of my elbow to grab my purse. “Hey,” I start as he unzips it, pulling out my phone. “It was in the contract. This will be returned to you tomorrow morning.” And then he’s gone.

I don’t even want to sit on the couch. Instead, I stand in the middle of the room hugging myself.

But I don’t have long to dwell.

Not five minutes later, three women walk into the room.

One of them carries a plate with a greasy sandwich. The other a basket with a curling iron and makeup.

I almost laugh hysterically.

The similarities and difference to last night punch me in the gut. I’m not Cinderella tonight. It won’t be beautiful dresses and a luxury house. Tonight, I’m just a whore.

And just like last night, this will end with a man undressing me, but he won’t stop when he learns I’m a virgin.

He likely won’t be kind.

I cover my mouth as one of the women slaps the plate on a table in the corner. “When’s the last time you shaved?” Her accent is even thicker than Dimitri’s.

“I was waxed yesterday.”

“Good. Less for me to do.” And then she sits on the couch, pulling out some see-through white lingerie. “Eat first.”

“I’m not hungry,” I whisper.

“Orders. Eat.” She points at the plate.

I think I might throw up, but I cross to the plate and take a bite.

It’s some heavy, greasy meat slapped between two pieces of bread. I can barely swallow as I grab the bottle of water, washing it down my throat.

Apparently, the single bite is enough to satisfy them, and they get to work.

My hair is curled again, my legs inspected, the makeup applied to my face.

That’s when a fourth woman enters. “Time for your check-up.”

I turn to her, my brow furrowed. Check-up? I don’t know what she could possibly mean when all the other women crowd around me. Two grab my arms and the other two my knees and then I realize.

I gasp, trying to twist out of the chair but their nails dig into me, holding me in place. “Stop,” I cry, knowing that I am in so far over my head.

“You claim you are virgin.” She narrows her gaze at me. “I need to check.”

I freeze. “No one told me about this.”

“You lying?” she asks as she pulls a white device out of her bag, that’s the shape of an egg.

I gag. “No. I’ve just never been touched there…” It’s not true. Triston touched me just last night and I don’t have to ask to know that nothing that happens today will be anything like that.

She kneels down, turning her head this way and that as she studies me. “What brought you here?”

I don’t know why she cares. I’m not even sure I should tell her. “My brother needs surgery, and I don’t have the money to pay for it.”

I see her frown, the other women’s hands lessening, easing back. “Ah. I see.” She puts the device in the bag. “I’ll spare you this, but whatever man buys your virginity will spare you nothing, and if you’re lying, it will be both our necks.”

“Your neck is safe,” I whisper, but my eyes are filling with tears again. Hers might be, but mine is not.

She gives a nod.

“My phone? Can I see it?”

“No. No phone until tomorrow.”

“But,” I cry. “The doctor might call. If he does, my brother needs to go to the hospital right away.”

I didn’t tell Darius there might be a donor because I didn’t want to get his hopes up. But now, I’m seeing all the ways in which I’ve erred. This will all be for not if Darius doesn’t make it to the hospital in time.

“Irina,” the woman says. “Go find her phone.”

The one I’m assuming is Irina says something sharp back in Russian, but the woman I’m speaking to stands, hands on her hips and says, “Go.”

Irina huffs off and I hold my breath as one of the other women starts curling my hair again, while a second pulls out a makeup bag, applying some very natural looking and perfectly matched makeup to my skin.

Irina walks back in, handing me the phone. I tap the screen, the device lighting up, showing that I have seven missed calls.

I gasp in a breath, sure that Dr. Lawrence has been trying to reach me, but it’s not his name that appears.

It’s Triston’s.

My eyes grow huge as I realize he called all seven times. I start to shake. Why would he be so insistent?

I see his first voicemail and tap the message, bringing it to my ear. But before I can listen, the phone is snatched from my grasp. “You check for the doctor but now is not the time to talk to your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Who is he then?”

“My boss.”

She clicks her tongue. “Your boss calls you seven times on a Saturday? Maybe he wants to be your boyfriend.”

I don’t answer as my curls are finished and brushed out.

White gauzy lingerie is pulled out of the closet, the kind that I’ve never worn and embarrasses me to even look at. “Aren’t there going to be a room full of people?”

“Not people. Men. Who are deciding if they want to fuck you.”

And the ladies start pulling off my sundress and tucking me into a white lacy bra and panties that have a sheer overlay in the shape of a short nightgown.

At least a silky robe is placed over my top as too-big heels are put on my feet.

Then Irina holds out a gummy of some kind. “You want?”

“What is it?”

“Drug. It will make you sleepy, which will help.”

I nip at my lip. I’ve never taken any kind of drug before, I barely drink. It’s tempting, but I shake my head. For better or worse, I’ll know what’s happening.

I get pulled out of the room and down a hall where I can already hear the rumble of many male voices.

My knees begin to quake as I try to walk in my heels. “No backing out now,” Irina says from one side as she pulls me forward.

Up ahead, I see a red curtain, the voices growing louder. My heart is pounding in my chest and my whole body starts to shake.

Darius. I’m doing this for Darius.

But before my eyes, lights begin to swim. And I know I’m going to faint.