Chapter 26

TWENTY-SIX

The vibe in the mansion was super-charged. Women in sexy, long, black silk dresses were walking around balancing trays of champagne. Martin’s security were positioned strategically around the room, staying out of the way of the men socializing but managing to make their presence known. I had yet to see Martin or Catarina. Eden had made a brief appearance but had disappeared down a staircase and I hadn’t seen her since.

I twisted my wrist, exposing the Fifty Fathoms Act 1—it would be a travesty to call the anniversary limited edition timepiece a watch—but that was exactly what Joan had called it when she’d given it to me earlier. It wouldn’t do for me to walk into the auction with my Rolex and my normal Armani suit. Joan had delivered the Brioni, the timepiece, and Fast Track Scritto leather sneakers from Berluti. She’d declared I looked very James Bond. I didn’t care who I looked like as long as by the end of the night Martin, Eden, Dale, and the rest of their team were in custody and the women were freed. If that meant I had to wear a twenty-five-thousand-dollar suit and a twenty-thousand-dollar timepiece, I’d wear the overpriced get-up.

Though I might negotiate the Blancpain into my fee. It was a nice piece I’d like to add to my collection.

Almost time.

“Phillip Buchannan,” a man in his sixties greeted with his hand extended.

Self-importance radiated from the man.

I took his hand, noting it was clammy. He was nervous.

“Wilson Barker,” I introduced myself.

“So, Wilson, what do you do?”

Ah. Small talk. Yes, the man was nervous.

“Shipping and textiles. You?”

“Mining. Both metal and gems.”

In other words he raped the earth in impoverished countries, underpaying his workers, and leaving the land desecrated before he moved on and repeated the process.

Good to know he was a planet killer on top of being a dirty scumbag.

“This is my first time,” he told me something I’d already deduced. “Any pointers?”

Christ.

Why me?

There were fourteen other men in the room he could’ve chosen to chat up who would’ve happily shared the ins and outs of bidding and ownership.

A chime rang through the house.

Saved by the bell—literally.

The auction was starting.

And right on time.

Jack along with Joan’s team would already be at the staging area they’d set up at the bottom of the street. Much to my disgust the plan was to allow the auction to start. It would be an easier operation to execute if all the players were in one confined area. Leaving the entry team to dispose of the guards before moving to the lower level.

I had every inch of the sixteen-thousand-square foot monstrosity memorized.

So did Jack.

The lower-level movie theater was the obvious location for the auction. It was an intimate, confined space. The women could be easily viewed up close. Though we’d also planned for the event Martin used what the blueprint considered the family room. The space was much larger, open, with windows on two sides that would bring both mountain views and city lights from the valley in the distance.

Either way, the entry team would have no choice but to use the stairs. Not ideal. Creating a fatal funnel was an operator’s worst nightmare.

“Please leave your drinks, gentlemen, and follow me.” Eden reappeared in her sick-fuck madam get-up.

I would guess between the diamonds in her ears, tiered necklace going from a choker to several layering strands that elongated until the final one dipped between her cleavage, the large-stoned Hemmerle Harmony Bangles, and the shimmery gown, her getup cost double mine.

A nauseating reminder human trafficking paid well.

I turned back to Phillip.

“Only advice I have is if you see something you like, bid high.”

“What’s considered high?”

Jesus.

“Nothing under seventy-five and if you want her I’d bump that to ninety and be prepared to spend no less than a hundred and fifty. Unless she’s fresh, then you’re looking at a quarter mill and up.”

The man whistled.

Did he think he was walking away with a human for a bargain basement price?

Upon arrival tonight there was a menu of sorts printed and framed. Several of them actually—they were displayed around the formal living area, giving the bidders an idea of what they had to look forward to. It was a foul list of ages, heights, weight, eye color, hair, and experience.

Most of them blondes, young, and three were virgins.

Seventeen women total.

On the low end, the night would bring in close to three million.

Yes, the sad truth—selling women paid well.

But not tonight.

“Wilson,” Eden cooed when I got close to her spot near the stairs. “Would you mind?”

She held her hand out like a princess needing an escort.

Don’t go there. I pushed thoughts of my princess from my mind.

Silently we made it to the lower level. Thank fuck for backup plans. The auction was taking place in the open family room. I quickly took in the space. Martin was sitting in a high-backed captain’s chair like an overlord. Catarina was perched on his lap in a blood-red dress. For the first time since I’d entered the house without backup I was happy Jack was not at my side. The look on Cat’s face could only be described as terror and the fuck of it was I couldn’t tell if it was real or if she was playing her role.

Dale was already sitting as well off to Martin’s right but not far. I spotted the undercover FBI agent Beth with a tray of champagne. She looked bored but her gaze was darting around the men as they all filed into the room. Beth’s partner, Josey, had gotten a lock on where Eden had been keeping her stable of women she’d supplied for the parties at The Boulevard villa. She and Asher along with Tyree and his team were in the process of raiding the house while Eden and Martin were occupied with the auction.

Louis Evans was out of play and absent.

Eden’s hand squeezed mine, drawing my attention to her.

“I think I found you exactly what you’re looking for.” Eden’s purr was downright vomit-inducing.

I lifted a brow in question. Eden leaned closer, her musky perfume hitting me full force.

“A pretty little thing. With big brown eyes just like that casino girl I saw you eyeing.”

My muscles bunched at the mention of Atlee.

She was safe in Montana.

“Untouched,” the bitch went on. “And for the right price, she can be all yours.”

My stomach roiled as I fought back a sneer.

I let go of Eden’s hand, brought mine up to her face, and skimmed my fingers along her jaw. I’d never entertained the thought of hitting a woman; even during a takedown I was careful not to cause harm. But Eden Dunhill made it damn difficult to resist the urge to smack that nasty smile off her foul face.

I let my hand fall away and wordlessly found my seat off to the side with a perfect view of the stairs and the windows.

Just like that casino girl I saw you eyeing.

Atlee is safe, I reminded myself.

* * *

I hadno idea where I was or what day it was. I’d woken up alone in a bedroom I had no clue how I’d ended up in. I looked at the watch Wilson had given me for exactly this reason. The watch I hadn’t charged the night before I left for the airport because I’d left it in Wilson’s suite.

It was dead.

Dead.

No tracker.

No panic button.

No phone to call for help.

I eyed the tray of food a man had placed on a table before he’d wordlessly left. Food I wouldn’t eat because I thought it was drugged like the water I’d drank when I’d first come awake in this bedroom. After a few sips I’d started feeling woozy again. When I woke up a second time it was dark outside and I felt weak.

If I was going to get out of here I needed a clear head and legs that worked.

I went back to staring at the white ceiling.

Once the fog wore off I’d make a plan.

My eyelids felt heavy as I blinked to stay awake.

The shadows dancing around the room lulled me back under.