4. Vin

Ispend the entire evening debating whether or not I should go to the private party tonight. The White Auction. Eventually, my libido wins over everything else. I need to get fucking laid. I'm sick of my brothers teasing me about it and I'm wound so damn tight, I'm ready to pop.

Since Enzo never went to one of these parties, I have no idea what to expect. I figure I should be okay if I wear black pants with my green button down dress shirt. I like the shirt because it makes my green eyes pop. I'm the only one of my siblings who has eyes that aren't brown, so they always used to joke that I'm not really a Rossi and my dad was the mailman.

Leaning over the bathroom sink, I spritz a small amount of cologne on and study my reflection. My thick brown hair waves back from my sun-bronzed face and my lower jaw is covered in a light stubble. My green eyes look brighter than usual and resemble twin emeralds.

"You are going to meet a beautiful woman tonight and end this dry spell," I tell myself, trying to be positive.

With that goal firmly set in my mind, I hit the light off and walk out into the living room. Grabbing my wallet, I double check there's a condom still in there—yep, still mocking me—and snap the leather billfold shut, tucking it in my back pocket.

After swiping up the invitation with the odd wax seal, I grab my jacket and head down to the elevator. I live on the twenty-second floor of Skyview Towers. I could've bought a place higher up, but the truth is I don't care for heights that much. Living on the eightieth floor is the last place I want to be and twenty two is high enough for me. Heights make me edgy. Unlike Angelo who loves soaring around in his helo, I prefer to keep my feet on the ground. Or, as close to the ground as possible.

The elevator drops me off in the underground garage and I walk over to my Mercedes. The address on the invitation is about twenty minutes away. Surprisingly, traffic moves fairly well and I arrive at the hotel a little after midnight. I don't want to look too eager, but I am not playing around tonight. The goal is to scope the place out, find a willing woman and get the hell out of here. Since we'll already be in a hotel that makes it super convenient.

I pull right up to the front door and valet park my car. As I walk up the steps and enter the hotel, I realize it's packed. Are all these people here for the private party? I wonder. A woman is directing people to a doorway where two men are checking invitations. Pulling mine out, I remove it from the pristine white envelope and present it to one of the men. He scans a special light over it then hands it back to me.

"Welcome, Mr. Rossi. Help yourself to champagne and hor d'oeuvres. The auction begins at 12:30 sharp."

Huh. So there actually is a real auction?Enzo didn't know any specific details, but maybe they have some artwork on display or something, and they plan to donate the earnings to a local charity. Most parties like this are full of wealthy people who want to feel better about themselves and like to open their wallet for a good cause. There's only one reason I'm opening my wallet tonight—and that's to remove that condom, blow off the dust and fuck a lovely lady.

Christ, I can't wait. Enzo was right. I need some action.

A heavy, red velvet curtain hangs in front of me and I push through it. The moment I step into the next room, a pretty girl offers me a glass of champagne. Taking it from the tray, I murmur a thanks and look around. I don't see any artwork on display, but I do see a platform that looks like it's going to serve as some kind of a stage. Maybe they'll present the auction items up there a little later. Honestly, I don't care. Chances are, if I can move this little search along, I might manage to make it out of here before the action even begins.

Now, though, it's time to scope things out. I take a sip of champagne and begin making my way around the room. Disappointment shreds me because there are a helluva lot more men here than women. And the women I do see already seem to be with someone.

There's also a weird vibe I'm picking up on. Almost one of anticipation. I'm not sure why people would be so excited to bid on a painting, but whatever. To each his own, right?

Telling myself to be patient, I find a quiet corner away from the crowd and study everyone closely. Looks like a lot of single businessmen, some couples, and no single women. I swear to God, if this evening turns out to be a bust, I'm going to be pissed. My hopes—and the little guy's hopes—are up. It would suck ass if there aren't any single, eligible women who show up.

Patience, Vin. You're going to meet someone tonight.

After people-watching for almost twenty-five minutes and finding no prospects, I accept another glass of champagne and consider heading out. As I'm debating what to do, a man walks up onto the raised platform in the center of the room. He looks quite theatrical and wears a suit with tails along with a tophat and holds a walking stick with a sparkling crystal on its top. If I didn't know better, I'd say he stepped right out of Moulin Rouge which is currently playing over on Broadway.

"Welcome to the White Auction, ladies and gentlemen. We have anything you could possibly want. Your heart's desire" he assures the crowd who suddenly comes to life, completely animated and bursting with enthusiasm. I can feel the wave of anticipation building. "So many delights to bid on. Keep in mind, all bidding begins at five-thousand dollars. Now, let's start the show!"

Leaning my shoulder against the wall, I watch as a young girl walks up onto the stage.

"This is Violet, but I promise you she's not shy. In fact, she likes company, preferably in three's, if you know what I mean," the announcer says and people laugh, moving closer to the platform, watching the girl. She's wearing a short skirt and does a little dance, shaking her ass. That's when the bids start rolling in. Men yell out numbers and the more she flaunts herself, the more money they offer.

What in the actual fuck? With a deep frown, I keep watching, unable to look away. It's like a train wreck that's about to happen and, even though I know I should just walk away, I can't. The girl bends over and flashes her ass to the room. Stifling a sigh, I listen to the final few offers and it becomes quite clear she's offering herself for a ménage à trois.

"Bam! Twenty-thousand dollars is our top bid. Violet belongs to you for the night, my lovelies."

Some couple struts over, each takes one of Violet's hands and helps her walk down the stairs and out the door.

Lovely. I roll my eyes and ignore the disgust rising inside me, sharp and bitter like bile up the back of my throat. I don't like to judge people. If they're not hurting anyone then do whatever makes you happy. But, this right here isn't my scene and I'm certainly not about to pay for sex.

I'm leaning against the wall, unable to look away, when twins parade onto the stage. The bidding erupts and I watch grown men scream out bids, fighting over these two young women. In the end, some skeezy guy in a rumpled suit walks to the end of the dais and gleefully rubs his hands together as the twins join him. They giggle and then disappear into the crowd of people.

Oh, for fuck's sake.This is clearly some kind of weird sex auction and I'll be damned before I pay to sleep with one of these women auctioning their bodies off. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I call Enzo as another woman parades onto the stage, flashing her tits to the audience who immediately lets out raucous hoots and whistles.

"Why're you calling me when you're supposed to be having hot sex with a stranger?" Enzo says in greeting.

"I don't pay for sex," I hiss into the phone. "What the hell kind of party is this?"

Enzo laughs. "How would I know? I told you I never went. But call me intrigued. What exactly is going on?"

"I could kill you, you know that?" He chuckles and I roll my eyes. "So, there's this raised platform in the center of the room and this man dressed like some kind of weird Moulin Rouge character is auctioning off another girl as we speak. Bidding starts at five-thousand bucks and I guess the winner gets a night with their prize."

"Ah, explains why they wanted a credit card on file," Enzo murmurs. "Girls or women? Do they look legal?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they're at least eighteen. Well, from what I've seen so far, anyway." His last comment has me frowning. "You gave them a credit card number?"

"I can't remember. But now I'm thinking I must have. Huh. Maybe I should've gone to this."

"It's a damn meat market and not my scene. The first girl went for twenty grand. Who the hell is pocketing this money?"

"Good question. I honestly never looked into it. And, yeah, I was only kidding. Twenty grand is a bit much for a one-night stand. What's so special about these women? Do they come with a stock certificate or what?"

"I have no idea," I grumble. "But, I'm leaving."

"Sorry, bro," Enzo says sincerely. "I really thought you might be able to find somebody there."

"Yeah, not likely. Talk to you later." I hang up and, as I'm slipping my phone back into my pocket, another girl climbs up the stairs and moves beneath the spotlight. I'm about to head for the exit when I abruptly stop. I'm not sure what it is that captures my attention, but I pause mid-step and check out the newest piece of ass.

"Tonight, we have a very special young woman in our presence. Her name is…Mary…and it's quite fitting since our lovely, little lamb has quite a bit to offer."

Lamb. Purity…innocence…my heart sinks at the look on her face. It's fear.

All of my attention zeroes in on the young woman standing in the middle of the stage. She's wearing a thin white negligee that's dangerously close to being sheer. With the light shining behind her, I can see straight through the bottom of her short nightgown and the outline of her slim thighs is clear. Her long blonde hair frames her angelic-looking face and it almost seems to glow. Kind of all gold and radiant like she has a halo surrounding her.

Despite standing tall and proud, I can't miss the panicked look in her eyes and when I glance down at her hands, I swear they're shaking. Unlike the other girls who paraded across the stage, willingly strutting their stuff, Mary just stands there looking like an angel in headlights.

If I didn't know better, I'd say she doesn't want to be up there. My chest tightens, heart twisting at the vulnerable look on her face. Is someone forcing her to do this? The thought makes me feel sick. I also have the overwhelming urge to reach out and help her off that damn stage.

"The bidding for our little virgin will start at ten grand." He chuckles as the crowd erupts in a frenzy.

Virgin?Oh, hell, no.

"I'm sure you all understand why our little lamb is worth more than the rest. So let the bidding begin, you sinners! Who wants our sweet, little, innocent Mary?"

The sound of frantic bids fill the air and I walk closer, unable to look away from the little martyr on stage. The closer I get, the more clearly I can see her. And the fear in her pretty blue eyes is clearly evident. Especially as the men fighting over her grow more determined, more intense.

The bidding hits thirty grand fast, the highest of the night so far, and my gut twists. A group of men are going back and forth, each trying to outbid the other, and it makes me want to go over there and beat the shit out of them all. Can't they see she's scared? That she doesn't want to be up on that fucking platform, practically naked in front of all these strangers?

My protector instinct flares to life, kicking in hard, and I decide she isn't going to any of these idiots. They're all up close to the stage now, salivating like a pack of feral dogs, eyes gleaming brightly with the idea of debauching that poor girl.

"Thirty-five grand," the one man declares and glares triumphantly at his opponent who doesn't offer a new bid.

"Thirty-six grand," a voice says and I look over and see a man in a suit who looks vaguely familiar. He has a smug look on his face that I don't like, as if he knows he's going to walk away the winner tonight. Hmm. We'll see about that.

I step up to the stage and say loudly, "Fifty-thousand dollars."

Gasps fill the air and the angel on the stage turns her attention to me, jaw dropping open.

"We have a new bidder," the auctioneer announces excitedly. "And a very impressive bid of fifty-thousand dollars for the lovely Mary Mary quite contrary who I'm sure has a very lovely garden." He heckles out a laugh. "Why don't you give the men a peek at your garden?"

Mary, or whatever her real name is, looks horrified and takes an unsteady step back. I frown at her reaction and the auctioneer's perverse twist on the children's nursery rhyme. Then my attention moves to my opponent and I wait to see if he will try to outbid me.

"Fifty-one thousand," he snaps fast, glaring at me.

Here we go. I love a good challenge and he just laid one down. I play with him as he nickel and dimes the bid slowly up by one-thousand dollar increments. Cheap bastard. Is that all she's worth to him? A lousy 56K?

After that last bid, I send him a scathing look then turn to the auctioneer and in a loud, clear voice, I state, "One-hundred fifty six thousand dollars."

The crowd gasps, goes eerily quiet then bursts in raucous approval. They hoot and stomp their feet, and they whistle and clap wildly.

Beat that, asshole.

When he doesn't challenge my offer, I turn back to the auctioneer and he declares me the winner. Someone hands me an envelope, but I'm more concerned about getting Mary—or whatever her name really is—off that blasted stage and out of this goddamn room of vultures. She doesn't belong in here with these twisted people.

Her blue gaze meets mine and when I lift my hand up, offering it to her, she grasps onto it like I'm a rock in the storm currently tossing her around. As I help her walk down the steps, our gazes remain locked and it hits me hard that this poor girl is terrified. I can feel her shaking and before her small, bare feet can touch the floor, I sweep her up into my arms. Another cheer goes up from the crowd, but I ignore them and stalk out of the room, trying to get her away from all these deviant idiots as quickly as possible.

By the time I reach the elevator, she's trembling so damn hard. I tighten my arms around her. "It's okay," I assure her in a low voice. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I have no plans to take this young woman's virginity tonight. But the urge to get her up to the room where she'll be safe fills me.

She tilts her head up and stares at me with startling blue eyes. "Do you promise?" she asks.

"I promise," I whisper and step into the elevator.