A few streetlights illuminated the area as Hannah and I stood on the sidewalk outside The Auction House. It was well past midnight. I pulled out my phone to text my driver and let him know that I was ready to go home.
The driver wasn't far away, he never was, but the wait felt like an eternity, standing in silence next to the beautiful Hannah Macalester. Leaving that place had improved my mood substantially, but one glance at Hannah and I could tell that she was pissed.
Hannah stood an arm's length away from me with her arms crossed over her chest.
She glared straight ahead, her green eyes like storm clouds in the glow of the streetlights. This wasn't the flirtatious minx that I had met at Court Macalester's party.
Regardless of what was going on with her, at least I knew she was safe in my care for now.
My driver pulled up next to us in my black Bentley and I opened the door, stepping aside so that Hannah could get in first.
Once she was seated, I closed her door and walked around to let myself into the back seat beside her. The driver pulled away from the curb, merging into the midnight traffic.
I place the contract on the seat between us and glance at Hannah to see her staring out of the window with her arms folded in her lap. Her red hair draped her smooth, bare shoulder and I wanted to reach out and touch her soft skin. I wanted her to look at me with her beautiful green eyes and smile at me like she had done at her father's party.
"Hannah?" I said gently, but she didn't respond. I waited a moment. This was going to be a long, awkward car ride if she decided to ignore me. "Hannah, are you OK?" I asked her.
She turned her head to face me, piercing me with her green gaze. "Am I OK?" she repeated my question back to me. "You just purchased me for an obscene amount of money at a slave auction, and you're seriously asking me if I'm OK?"
Sh*t, I thought. That saying about fiery redheads wasn't a joke. I held my hands up in surrender. "You're right," I said. "I didn't mean any harm by asking." She turned away from me to stare out of the window again and lowered my hands to my lap. "Look, Hannah, I just wanted to get you away from The Auction House."
She didn't respond. I let out a heavy sigh. "I plan on taking you home first thing in the morning. I don't know why you would put yourself in a situation like that."
Hannah turned to face me again, and this time she scoffed. "You think I put myself in that situation?" she asked me. "What woman in her right mind would choose to put herself up for auction?"
"Then what were you doing there?" I asked her, confused.
"How do you think slaves get to the auction, Roman?" she asked me. The fact that she remembered my name distracted me for a moment. The idea of my name on her lips was arousing. It was just me and Hannah in the back seat of my Bentley, cruising through the city at night. If she wasn't in such a bad mood, it would have been an ideal situation.
"They're usually kidnapped or sold," I said to her.
"Exactly, and I wasn't kidnapped," Hannah snapped.
"Someone sold you to that place?" I asked her, searching her pretty face.
Hannah sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. The longer I stared at her in the passing streetlights, the more I could really see her unearthly, fairytale-like beauty.
She opened her eyes again and met my gaze.
"My father took me to that auction tonight to sell me because he's broke," she said. "I didn't know that when we arrived, but he pulled me aside and told me that he needed money to pay off his creditors."
"Court Macalester is completely broke?" I asked her. "How did he know that he would make enough money by selling you at a flesh market?"
Hannah shrugged. "He took a gamble knowing he would get at least a few hundred thousand," she said. "And then you came along and gave him a hundred million." She shook her head slowly. "I can't believe you paid that much for a woman."
I wanted to tell her that she wasn't just any woman. That even though I was the heir to a billion-dollar business, she was still out of my league. Until tonight, of course.
"I can't believe that a man would sell his daughter like that," I said to Hannah.
"You and me both," she said. "He even threatened to sell my sister," Hannah said this last part quietly and turned to stare out of the window again.
The idea that Court could even think about selling his daughters, and then actually selling one of them, was sickening. I digested all that she had just told me as silence hung in the air between us. The tall buildings of the city were behind us now as my driver merged onto the freeway. We would be home in about ten minutes.
A question was gnawing at the back of my mind. "Does Freddy know about what your father did?" I asked Hannah. She turned from the window again, leveling her green gaze with mine.
"How do you know Freddy?" She asked me.
"We graduated high school together," I said.
Further confirmation that she didn't remember anything about me. As long as I had known Freddy, he had never mentioned me to Hannah. Why would he? Clearly, he didn't think I was good enough for his sister.
"I seriously doubt that Freddy or Edward knew anything about this," she said. "My brothers are as protective of me and Lori as they can be, until my father steps in. I'm beginning to see how diabolical Court Macalester really is."
I picked up the contract from the seat between us and held it up to her. "As soon as I get you safe, I'm taking this contract to the FBI," I told her. "I'm going to expose that place and take down every man who has bought or sold a woman there. Especially that sleaze-bag Jared Fitzgerald who owns the place."
Hannah eyed the contract warily, her face slowly shifting to one of disgust. She turned away to stare out of the window again. I put the contract back down on the seat between us.
"What makes you think you can get the FBI involved?" she asked me, still looking out of the window. "Are you going to pay them a hundred million dollars to expose The Auction House? If you have the money just lying around, you might as well."
Her comment was like a slap in the face.
Did she not understand that I had bid on her in order to help her?
"If I have to pay another hundred million dollars to stop sick men from buying and selling women, I will," I told her. "You have no idea what type of man would have bought you if I hadn't been there tonight."
"My hero," Hannah said sarcastically. She leaned her head against the window, watching as cars and scenery passed by.
Now I was frustrated. Did she not know how gorgeous she was? How men would take advantage of a woman like her and leave her a used and hollow shell of a woman?
I closed my eyes and rubbed my hand over my face. I had no right to be frustrated with her. She had been through a lot in one night.
I decided to leave her alone, at least for now. Gazing out my own window, I watched my driver take the exit that would lead us to my neighborhood. Hannah would have plenty of guest rooms to choose from.
There was the Emerald room in the east wing of the second floor, decorated with emerald green silk blankets, curtains, pillows, and upholstery. I thought she might like that room. Or maybe it was just her green eyes that I was thinking about.
"Roman?" Hannah said and I turned to face her. The sound of my name on her lips was unexpected but welcome. I wanted her to say my name again and again. "I shouldn't have been rude, I'm sorry"
I shrugged. "No need to apologize, you're right," I said. "Buying you at an auction looks really bad on my part."
"Yes, it really does," she said to me. "But I'm not truly one hundred percent innocent in all this either."
I frowned. "What do you mean?" I asked Hannah. "Your father sold you to a flesh market. How are you at fault?"
"I let him do it," she said, "I was a willing pawn in his little games. He flaunted me like a prize piece at his client parties, and I did whatever he asked me to do. I should have seen something like this coming."
I shook my head. "There's no way you're at fault for this, Hannah. Flesh markets are illegal. Yes, your father is a huge a*shole, but just because you went along with him to his parties doesn't mean you deserved what just happened to you."
She searched my face with her green eyes.
She actually thought that this was partly her fault, and I found it utterly disgusting. If ever saw Court Macalester again, I couldn't promise that I wouldn't break his neck with my bare hands.