The Auction House had no sign or indication that there was a club at all, just a dark back alley with two bouncers outside.
After one of the bouncers found our names on the clipboard, they let us in. I followed Bernard past a couple of armed guards, wondering why a club would need armed guards. He led me into an open, dimly lit room where men sat at tables, staring at a brightly lit stage.
"I'll grab us some drinks, Roman," Bernard said, clapping me on my shoulder. "You find us some seats." As he walked away, I wondered at the absence of music and the absence of women. Hadn't Bernard insisted on coming here because of the women?
Perhaps it was more like a gentleman's club and the women would come streaming in at any moment.
I found a couple of empty seats not far from the door and sat down, waiting for Bernard to return with the drinks. Every eye in the room was focused on the stage.
A woman appeared from somewhere off stage, and she walked to the center, standing there as if waiting for a cue to move.
A man at a podium just off to the right of the stage began speaking about the woman. He gave her name, age, ethnicity, and something about the number of times she had been in attendance at The Auction House.
Men began shouting out numbers in the thousands and I frowned in confusion. Was she going to come down into the crowd and do a striptease, or give lap dances?
"Final call, one hundred thousand," the man at the podium announced as Bernard joined me at the table.
"What is this all about?" I asked Bernard. He handed me a glass of what smelled like whiskey.
"It's about women, Roman," Bernard said, sipping his drink.
"Sold! For one hundred thousand" the man at the podium said. The woman turned and slowly walked off the opposite side of the stage without a word. She seemed hollow somehow. More like an empty shell of a person than a woman who was supposed to be providing entertainment at a club.
"What do these women do?" I asked Bernard. "You said you wanted to come here for the women, but they're not doing anything"
"They don't need to do anything," Bernard said, eyeing me curiously. "They just stand there and take bids."
"They take bids?" I frowned and glanced around the room at the men riveted on the stage where women stood and took bids.
My eyes widened as the truth of what was happening hit me like a train. I clenched my teeth together and grabbed Bernard's shoulder. How could I have been so stupid and blind?
"This is a f*cking flesh market," I hissed into his ear.
Bernard looked at me as if I had lost my mind and pushed my hand from his shoulder. "It's an auction house, Roman. I come here all the time," Bernard said. "Once you get hooked on bidding you can't go back to women at a regular club."
My heart was pounding, and anger bloomed in my chest, threatening to make me lash out at all the disgusting men there buying women. Why the hell did I let Bernard talk me into coming here?
I'm such a f*cking idiot! I thought, clenching my fists and not wanting any of the men to notice how pissed off and disgusted I was at their lechery. I had to get out of here.
The sound of a woman's high heels clicking across the stage made me look up. This woman wasn't anything like the woman who had been on the stage before. She was dressed in a sexy, tight black dress that exposed the creamy smoothness of her cleavage. But it was her red hair that sparked a memory.
I graduated high school with Freddy Macalester, and he was one of my business colleagues on an overseas account. He was the oldest son of Court Macalester, who had invited me to several parties, but Hannah Macalester, Freddy's sister, had only been in attendance at a handful of those parties.
It was like Court Macalester was hiding his daughter from the world, only bringing her around to dazzle his clients occasionally. I never saw her outside of her father's parties.
I remembered that she never left her father's side, and she always had the attention of the other men in attendance. Her striking red hair was hard to miss. I had found my gaze following her whenever I did happen to spot her at her father's parties. She had a beautiful smile, and the sound of her laughter carried across the room like chimes gently blown by the wind.
When I finally got the chance to introduce myself to her, I was immediately captivated by her green eyes. She had worn a bright red halter dress to the party that night, showing off a stunning peek of her breasts. I didn't remember what we talked about, but I did remember her eyes, her smile, and her fiery red hair.
"Hannah Macalester," the man at the podium began. "Age 22, virgin, recently acquired as a high-priced commodity. Confirmed bridal contract."
So, it was Hannah Macalester. That's impossible, I thought.
Did Court and Freddy know that she was here? I didn't want to believe that Hannah was standing on the stage at a flesh market. But her unmistakable red hair and gorgeous body proved it. It had to be her. What the hell was she doing up there on that stage? This had to be a sick joke. A terrible mistake.
"One hundred thousand." Someone in the crowd began the bidding.
"One hundred fifty thousand" Bernard countered. I stared at him in disbelief.
"What are you doing?" I asked Bernard. "You know that's Court Macalester's daughter, right?"
"Of course, I know that's Hannah f*cking Macalester, Roman," Bernard said. "I heard her name announced."
"You can't bid on her," I said to Bernard. "Why is she here in the first place?"
Bernard smirked. "I sure as hell will bid on her," he said. "I don't give a sh*t why she's here."
"Three hundred thousand," someone in the crowd offered.
"She's on stage for bidding and I want her," Bernard said. "Three hundred fifty thousand," he counteroffered.
I wanted her, too-every man wanted Hannah Macalester - but not like this.
"Five hundred thousand," another man offered, and I began to panic in earnest.
Hannah was just standing there on stage, allowing bids to happen. Her hands were clutched into fists by her sides, but her chin was held high, red curls spilling down onto her shoulders. She was sexy as hell in her tight, low-cut dress, and I'm sure my body would have responded with pure desire had she not been standing on a stage at a flesh market. I had to get her out of there, and fast.
"Six hundred thousand," Bernard said, leaning forward as he began to focus harder on winning Hannah. What was Bernard going to do to her? I gripped the arms of my chair hard, thinking about how I could help her.
Maybe I could rush the stage and just escort her out. I glanced toward the armed guards at the entrance and my heart sank.
They each had two guns that I could see, one on each hip. There was no way the armed guards were going to allow me to smuggle a woman out of here. I'm sure they got a nice commission working at this sh*thole.
"Seven hundred thousand," a man in the crowd offered.
"Eight hundred thousand," Bernard countered.
You're a piece of sh*t, Bernard, I thought as I glanced around the room. I recognized most of the men here. All wealthy pieces of sh*t who also knew me. If I did anything to sabotage their disgusting sport, they would use any means necessary to find me and cause me some serious trouble.
But it dawned on me that I also had money. A lot of it.
"One million," I shouted before I could completely process my own thoughts.
Bernard glanced over his shoulder and glared at me.
"One point five million," Bernard countered. There was no way in hell he could outbid me.
"Two million," another man shouted in the crowd.
"One hundred million," I said.
The buzzing and humming of conversation in the room fell silent.
Bernard turned around and glared at me.
"She's not worth that, Roman, and you know it," Bernard hissed at me. "You come here and throw your money around like you own the place."
"You can buy another girl, Bernard," I said.
"You won't be buying Hannah."
"One hundred million?" the man at the podium asked.
"Yes, one hundred million," I repeated, eager to get Hannah out of there and to get as far away from this place as I could.
"Sold! For one hundred million!" the man at the podium announced, and Hannah walked toward the opposite side of the stage, disappearing from view. "This is one of the highest bids we've seen here at The Auction House! Enjoy your prize, sir!"
"That was an a*shole thing to do, Roman," Bernard said, his gaze dark and furious. An armed guard approached us and told me to follow him backstage. When I stood, Bernard grabbed my arm.
"Don't ignore me, Roman," Bernard said loudly.
"Is there a problem here?" The guard asked, touching one of the guns at his hip. I snatched my arm away from Bernard, leveling my gaze with his.
"There's no problem," I said, glaring at Bernard. He would buy another woman, there was no doubt about that, but he would not soon forget what I had just done. I turned to the guard and said, "Lead the way."