Chapter 3

Three

Oliver

" I 've seen friendlier looking Tasmanian devils, brother. I think the cigar lady is too scared to come on this side of the room."

I hear my best friend's insult before I see his face. A heavy hand comes down on my shoulder and a large form settles into the chair next to me.

"Samuel."

"Oliver."

I clasp the hand of my childhood best friend and fellow…damn. I don't know what you would call him. Friend-in-crime? He's had my back since I took our preschool bully out to the playground and taught him the meaning of respect and we've been thick ever since. It's why I called him in from his trip overseas.

We bump shoulders and clasp each other on the back. I push the bottle of high-self whiskey in his direction along with a spare glass.

He pours a couple fingers' worth, and we clink glasses. "To not dying before we get a chance to raise hell."

I welcome the burn of alcohol as it washes down my throat.

Around us the lights are low as other men and women are shown to their seats. "I can be difficult. Insufferable has been said a few times in my presence?—"

Samuel chuckles low. "And worse. Trust me."

A flash of something crosses his expression. Disgust maybe? Nah. Samuel is the least judgmental person I know. But me? I'm probably too fucking jaded against humanity.

"I do, brother, but a rodent?"

My friend lifts a heavy shoulder and leans back in his chair. Charcoal eyes meet mine in the darkness and the glittering truth of it all shines back at me. "You look like you want to kill and would take pleasure in draining a body."

He visually scans the spacious room, stopping at each table to commit faces to memory. I know because I'm doing the same thing. I want to know who I have to kill should they win tonight and not me.

I grunt. "Fair enough."

"At least you have arguably good looks going for you even if you are old. But the carnage I keep hearing about on the outside?—"

"—is…was necessary," I cut in, leaving the jab at my age for some other time. We are both hitting fifty, so I don't know what the fuck he thinks he has on me there. I didn't invite the man here so I can explain my actions over the last couple of months.

The ends of dark hair move over Samuel's shoulder as he shakes his head in agreement. "Necessary," he repeats and pauses.

"Say what you have to say, old friend. The last few months have been bloody and have caused more than one family grief."

Samuel pops the button on his tuxedo and leans forward, placing his elbows on the polished surface of our table. "I'm hearing some disturbing stories along the underground lines. Your manhunt isn't going so well. Bodies are piling up and you're no closer to getting your man. When is it going to be enough?"

"The Callahans are no longer a threat to my wife or my family. It took me longer than I care to admit to reach this point. They liked to talk a big game, but from behind their massive walls and armed enforcers. I did not go around killing innocent men, so don't talk to me like I'm a fucking monster."

I'm not ready to admit it out loud but I'm tired of knocking skulls and dropping bodies. I needed the Callahans off the face of this earth. That is now done. Now I can go home.

"You've been out of the country for a while, brother. You want to know something, ask. Don't let the whispers of people mislead you with lies. I went to the lengths to protect my bride. And I have no fucks to give if you approve or not."

Samuel considers me for a long moment. He's more of a doer than a talker. If he was here to seek revenge for some slight, he would have already drawn blood. It is a trait we share. He is about my height with similar wide shoulders, loves a good suit, and doesn't put up with other people's bullshit. Hell, we even have the same calluses on our trigger fingers, for God's sake. He's a brother in almost every sense of the word.

"Are we really going to do this?"

He points a thick finger toward the front of the large room. I take a fraction of a second to catch the shift of topic.

"Seems like it. I might catch more of your ire if I were to shoot my way to the front and steal my bride back the way I want to. So here we are like civilized gentlemen ready to pluck down money for what I already own."

Samuel's dark chuckle sums up the irony of the night.

Ritual isn't known for its upper-class clientele. Until about a month ago, it was closed down for repairs with the promise of new management.

"This is the last place I thought an auction would go down. At least they replaced the blood-stained floors and put in some nice chandeliers."

"Black carpet is the better fit for sure. Hides the blood better."

Samuel pours another round for us both and we sit in silence for a moment. "You're not wrong. Does she know you're here?"

"Nope. And you're going to help me keep it that way until I get some answers."

"Should be fun."

Fun? No. My hand is ready to grab for my weapon the second one fucker shows the slightest sign of going for the stage. When I finally get my hands on Amethyst, I'm not sure what I'm going to do. All I've sacrificed—all the time I've spent hunting down the men hell-bent on hurting her—only for my wife to put herself on the auction block where anyone can get their hands on her makes me see red.

I force my face into a mask of indifference and settle my nerves by downing more bourbon.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's event is the first annual Jewel Auction. Let us begin."

I draw in a deep breath through my nose and let it out. My blood pulses through me. Heavy black curtains peel to either side of a raised stage toward the front of the long room. Lights dim and the room settles into a quiet darkness. The auction participants at the surrounding tables hush their conversations.

It is time.

An overhead spotlight flickers on and a woman draped in a red cloak fills the space of white light.

An aged, sultry voice carries over the sound system. "Our first gem of the night is Miss Ruby. Silky black hair, lips made for delivering on fantasies. She loves giving pleasure as much as she loves receiving it. A natural submissive, our Miss Ruby is looking for a daddy to care for her and is a rare jewel any man would be lucky enough to win this evening."

The red cloak and hood drop to reveal a woman wrapped in red velvet that doesn't leave much of anything to the imagination.

"We will start the bidding at two hundred million dollars."

Samuel lets out a low whistle beside me. "Steep."

I nod, not really paying too much attention to the price tag or the people calling out their bids. "The owner gave a fair warning about the amounts they were playing with tonight. Ryth Cross is a lot of things and among the labels attached to his name is a cunning businessman."

Miss Ruby is sold for a fraction over the bidding price and then the auction kicks into high gear. The women to be auctioned off are brought out one by one. Robes the color of their gem name are discarded in favor of the same decorative ribbon. Swaying hips, ample breasts and beautiful smiles catch the eyes of every man and woman in this room. Though each is just as beautiful as the next, none hold my attention.

"And now, the rarest of beauties. Ladies and Gentlemen, the reason you all came tonight has finally arrived."

My eyes zero in on a woman when the spotlight comes to rest over the top of her.

My heart feels like it's going to burst inside my chest. Heat doesn't just flash through my veins; it consumes me until everything else in my life is burned away and there is only her left.

Amethyst is wrapped in a deep purple cloak. Like the others, a hood covers her head, but I know she hides under there.

Purple pools around her feet and the woman in nothing but a ribbon leaves everyone gasping.

Beside me, Samuel emits a low rumble of appreciation. I can't blame him. She is the very essence of serene beauty. I'll kiss her first and then…yes. I'll make my beautiful wife pay for putting herself and our child in danger.

Pain pierces the armor I've erected around my heart. Amethyst always knew how to get around my shields. The glory of her beauty holds the ability to leave me in awe. The roundness of her belly, the way that ribbon ties around her ample breasts heavy with milk for our child. Another ribbon is tied to the one around her breasts and dips between her legs to hide her most intimate of areas.

She slowly turns, revealing how the ribbon is tucked between her cheeks. I'm going to enjoy pulling that off her with my teeth.

Hushed whispers carry from one table to the next as the auctioneer continues feeding information into the darkness.

"Unlike all the other jewels, this one is special."

"Oliver."

Samuel taps my thigh and juts his chin toward a man rising to his feet.

I ease a hand toward the weapon tucked inside my jacket.

"Five hundred million!"

When the man only belts out his offer before the bid officially starts, I pop the safety back on my gun and settle my hand over my drink again.

A pulse of erotic energy twines through the crowd. Ritual turns animalistic, and the basement club vibrates with a voracious hunger, and it is all aimed at my pregnant wife.

"Settle down, ladies and gentlemen. Let me tell you Miss Amethyst's qualities."

"She breeds well!" someone else yells out and other men call out what they would offer to pay to own my wife.

My fingers tighten around the drink in my hand, and I feel glass crack.

"Easy," Samuel warns.

"Miss Amethyst is, as you can see, heavy with child. She's looking for a daddy who will pamper her, love her, and care for her needs. In return she will carry your heirs. As you can see, yes, she is indeed very fertile. But the best yet, is the man she currently belongs to. Oliver Stone."

"He should have kept a tighter leash on her. Seven hundred million and I will even send his kid back. But for that price I keep and breed the woman."

With how dark it is here, no one realizes I can hear their retorts. The words roll off me. No one is walking out of here with my wife or child. I either buy her or kill them. Easy.

"Given her owner, her ability to breed well, and the pristine honor it would be to own the very jewel of the most powerful kingpin of Chicago, the starting bid is five hundred million."

And the bidding war begins. Numbers climb and people push toward the front of the stage. It's a fucking mad house and everyone is trying to put down multi-hundred-million-dollar bids on my wife. I almost hate to ruin their fun. I let it go on for another minute and then I turn to Samuel.

I nod, and he stands wearing a cocky grin. "I always wanted to spend your money for you. Too bad I don't get to taste what I buy, too."

The roar of the crowd is deafening. I can feel the thrum of lust and chaos in my bones. Samuel's hand goes up and his voice beats out everyone else's. "One billion. We can go all night but every single one of you fuckers will lose. No? No takers? Didn't think so. Your dicks will never touch her."

I keep my face hidden behind my glass of bourbon. I half expected him to play with the underlings a little, but he went straight for the throat. I can't say I'm disappointed. The sooner we get Amethyst out of here, the better.

"Yeah, I didn't think so."

The auctioneer takes care of wrapping the bid and when the gavel comes down, I feel like I can finally breathe again.

"Sold to table seven-one-three for one billion dollars."

Now to collect my wife, but first I'm going to teach my jewel who owns her, and no one touches what I possess.