Page 6 of Maxim (The Syndicates #12)

“M r. Boyko is now the owner of this fine specimen!” the auctioneer cheers as the crowd starts to grumble with displeasure.

My body trembles as I blink rapidly to try and clear my vision enough to see who the man in the back is. His name rings a bell, but I’m not sure why.

Who is he? Do I know him? And the biggest question of all, why did he buy me?

I must stand frozen for too long because someone comes up and grabs me by the arm.

Instinctively, I try to jerk out of his hold, but it’s no use.

He drags me offstage and into a private room.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, I walk across the room and into the corner.

Turning, I face the door before falling to the floor.

Oh god, what’s happening to me?

I rub my chest as I try to breathe, but I feel like I can’t get any air. At the same time, I feel like my body is on fire and cold at the same time, something I didn’t even know was possible. I know I need to move and try to escape, but I can’t. My body is frozen with fear.

This is really happening.

My father let someone buy me. He sold his own daughter.

Did he…

The sound of the lock turning on the door makes me flinch and cower further into the corner. When Father steps inside, my breath catches when I see his face.

For some reason he looks…pleased?

“Oh, Olena…”

“F-father.”

He frowns, shaking his head. “Enough of the stuttering, and why are you in the corner? Get up now.”

I bite my tongue to stop myself from yelling that I don’t think I can move and instead do as he asks. Only instead of standing, I crawl over to the couch and pull myself up.

Father tsks. “I hope you listen better for Mr. Boyko, but if you don’t, he will be pleased. I’ve been told he enjoys the defiant ones. He has ways of punishing them until they break.”

My body shivers at his words.

“Father, please, I’ve learned my lesson. Don’t make me go with him,” I plead.

“Olena, pull yourself together. Do you really think I would turn down the million dollars you just made me? You will go with Mr. Boyko and do exactly what he says. You will be everything he wants, and then when your time is up, he will come back and buy another. Who knows, maybe it will be your sister,” he muses.

“No! You can’t sell her. She’s just a child!” I shout.

Father’s eyes narrow. “You will not take that tone with me, Olena, and may I remind you that you cannot tell me what I can and cannot do with my children. Surely you would have figured that out by now.”

“Father…”

“Enough,” he says harshly. He takes a moment to gather himself before continuing. “If you are good and Mr. Boyko doesn’t have any complaints when I check in with him, then I will take it easy on the children. You step out of line, and I will take it out on them. Do you understand?”

I lick my lips and nod as tears roll down my face.

Father stands and straightens his suit jacket. “Very well, and who knows, if you please Mr. Boyko, I just might let you see your siblings again…eventually.”

I watch as he walks to the door and slips out. Only when the lock clicks into place do I begin to sob.

I cry for my siblings and that I won’t be there to protect them or watch them grow.

I cry for the loss of my innocence that’s about to come.

I cry for the loss of finding a husband and having a family.

I cry until I have no tears left.

I don’t have to look into the mirror to know my face is red and blotchy. Father would want me to get up and clean myself up before Mr. Boyko comes to get me, but I can’t find it in myself to care.

Way to go Olena, already starting out on the wrong foot, and the man isn’t even here yet.

Once again, I think of my siblings. I should take comfort in the fact that my father is offering to let me see them again if I’m good, but if this situation has taught me anything, it’s that his promise is a lie. He won’t let me see them.

God, I miss them.

The lock turns again, making me tense. I curl further into a ball on the couch as a man steps through and shuts the door behind him.

Aren’t captors supposed to be ugly? Because if so, this man never got the memo. He’s got thick black hair and eyes just as dark. Even through his short facial hair, I can tell his jaw is well defined. Unlike so many of my father’s clients, this man before me isn’t overweight in the slightest.

It’s then that I recognize him. I served him at the bar several times while working. What really caught my attention was how uncomfortable he always looked in a suit. He looked like someone who would be more comfortable in jeans and a leather jacket.

He was always nice to me and shoved a tip in the jar when he didn’t have to.

I don’t know why, but for some reason that gives me a little bit of comfort.

“Olena,” he rasps.

His voice is deep, and something about it makes me shiver, not in fear but…oh god, surely I’m not attracted to my owner, right?

“Olena,” he says again with a frown on his face.

Shit. How could I forget?

I slide off the couch and crawl closer to him.

When he’s within touching distance, I stop.

I keep my head bowed as I kneel before him like the teacher I was forced to meet with told me to do.

I fight the urge to vomit and lick my lips.

I don’t want to say it, but I know I need to. I need to please him.

“How can I please you, Master?”

He sucks in a breath, making goose bumps crawl against my skin as I wait for his demand.

I’m going to fucking hell.

This is a dream, right? It has to be.

“How can I please you, Master?”

If she were anyone else, I would tell her exactly what to do to please me. I’d play with her body until she begged for mercy. She would beg and plead so pretty underneath me.

Goddamn, does she look pretty on her knees kneeling before me. The little number they put her in before dragging her onto the stage looks even better up close. Fuck, it would look phenomenal on the floor while she’s tied to the bed and withering in pleasure.

“Please, Master, tell me what you like so I can thank you properly for buying me,” she says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Even with her head bow, I can tell she’s biting her lip.

I crouch down beside her and pull her lip free. “From now on, only I bite this lip. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she murmurs, eyes full of desire.

The fantasy falls away when I hear the sound of another door closing somewhere out in the hallway. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This woman could tempt Jesus to commit a sin. How easy would it be…

Pull it together. She doesn’t need another man lusting after her, she needs someone to get her out of this mess fucking safely.

Stepping forward, I raise my hand to help her up but freeze when she flinches.

Jesus Christ. What the hell did Jan do to her? No one should ever recoil the way she just did.

My mind goes to worst-case scenarios. Did he slap her around or did he beat her? Did he find other ways to torture her? I’ve done my fair share of torture in the past, but I couldn’t imagine doing it to a woman.

I knew that Jan had no honor, but this solidifies it. The man already has a death sentence because of his crimes, but now…

My jaw clenches as I try to check my anger.

“Get up.”

The poor girl scrambles, getting tangled in her own limbs. Instinctively I reach out and grab hold of her before she can hurt herself. She recoils away from me, making my heart sink.

This is worse than I thought it was. I know this is a shit situation, but for some reason, I don’t want her to be afraid of me.

Goddammit, this is a clusterfuck. I run my hands over my face in frustration. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to gather names, that’s it, and somehow I ended up with a woman. I went off course and ended up with a woman. What the hell am I going to do with her?

I look over at her and see that she’s holding herself still with her arms wrapped around her. She looks like a stiff breeze could knock her over.

She’s cold.

The realization has me ripping off my suit jacket. Very carefully I approach her until I drape my jacket around her. I have to fight back a smile when she buries her face into the material.

Clearing my throat, I step back, giving her some room. “Do you have anything to take with us?”

“N-no, Master.” She shakes her head.

Frowning, I look around the room and see that it is, in fact, empty of personal belongings.

“Do we need to stop by your home?”

Her face lights up for the briefest moment before it falls. “No, even if I wanted to, I don’t think Father would let us onto the property.”

“I could ask…” When she winces, I mutter, “Or not.”

I don’t know why, but for some reason the fact she won’t look me in the eye drives me fucking crazy. She’s never had a problem doing it in the past, so why now?

Taking a breath, I rub my jaw. “Okay, that’s fine. We can get you whatever you want.”

I expect her to perk up at the prospect of shopping like Ivanna and Lia do, but she doesn’t, which just pisses me off more.

How deprived has she been?

She’s a woman, isn’t shopping like…their thing?

“Are you ready to go?”

Olena gives me a jerky nod.

Stepping forward, I rest my hand on her back. I can’t help but grind my molars when it twitches under my palm.

For a split second, I contemplate leaving her alone and going and finding her old man and choking the life out of him, but that kind of death would be far too easy on him.

“Ready?” I ask gruffly.

Olena looks up at me with those big blue eyes and nods.

“Ready, Master,” she says, making my dick twitch.

Nik is going to kill me. Plain and simple.

I clear my throat. “None of that, okay? You don’t need to call me Master, all right?”

“But Teacher said…”

I shake my head before she can even finish her sentence. “I don’t care what your teacher said. You want to please me, right?”

She gives me a jerky nod.

“Okay then, call me Maxim, or Max, but not Master.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

“Okay then, Maxim,” she says, testing my name out.

As fucked up as it is, I like the way it rolls off her tongue.

“All right, let’s go home, and then we can go from there. How does that sound?” I ask as I lead her to the door.

“Good. It sounds good.”

“Are you hungry?”

She wavers for a second before nodding. “I could eat.”

“What sounds good to you?” I ask as we leave the room.

Her eyes dart around the hall as she speaks softly. “Whatever sounds good to you, Mas-Maxim.”

“Good job catching yourself, Olena,” I praise her.

I don’t miss the small smile or the blush that covers her cheeks before she ducks her head, and for some reason the action makes me smile.

My eyes drop to her rapidly rising chest and see that the blush isn’t only on her face. For some fucked-up reason, my dick twitches.

Hell. I’m going to hell for thinking of her like this.