83. Tessa

83

Tessa

I 've never been the kind of girl who enjoys being the center of attention. I enjoy company and at college I was a social person - unlike Stella who had to be forced to leave her room most of the time - but standing on a raised dais with spotlights shining on my mascara-stained face is a deeply uncomfortable experience.

Jasper did a fantastic job of making me look hotter than I am, so I almost feel bad on his behalf that Mashkov ruined all his hard work. Thanks to Mashkov, my face and hair are a mess and I have bruises around my neck.

I hope it puts all the prospective buyers off, but after seeing the state of some of the women locked up in cages, I suspect that won't be the case. No doubt many of these sick bastards are hoping to purchase a female they can use and abuse. A female who won't complain or fight back. A disposable warm body they can discard when they have had enough.

Mashkov stands on the edge of the dais while one of his guard keeps a firm hold of me. There are men sitting in rows of chairs, and to my surprise, a few women, too. I scan the people watching me, but it's dark at the back of the room, so only the first two rows are visible.

"Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we have a rare prize up for sale," the auctioneer announces. "She's strong, fertile, and, as you can see, most appealing."

The fertile comment makes me want to vomit. Is he seriously suggesting I might be used as a breeder? Dear God. I can't even...

A man sitting in the front row leans forward to touch my foot, leering up at me with undisguised lust. I'm tempted to kick him in the face, but the guard pulls me back when he notices the unwanted attention.

"Bidding starts at $500,000. Any takers?"

A flurry of hands shoot up in the air, each one holding a small paddle with a number on it. To the left of the dais, there are three men sitting with phones pressed to their ears. One of them raises a paddle.

"$750,000..." A few bidders drop out, but not many. Mashkov looks delighted. I'm speechless. Are these people so desperate for sex that they're willing to pay that kind of money for a woman who'll try to slit their throat when they're asleep?

I'm no murderer, but if someone tries to rape me, I will fight back with any means necessary. Speaking of... I still have the metal nail file tucked down between my breasts. It's hardly a lethal weapon, but it is comforting to know I have something I can use to protect myself.

The bidding passes one million dollars.

"Two million dollars..." There are only two men left. One is a dark-skinned man in a black suit and the other is the creepy guy who tried to touch my foot. I can't decide which one of them is worse. They both look like sex offenders.

When the bidding reaches three million dollars, the creepy guy at the front scowls with disappointment and throws his paddle on the floor. Oh dear, it looks like he lucked out.

What a shame. I'm gutted on his behalf.

"Congratulations, Mr. Kanevsky." The auctioneer nods respectfully at the man in the suit and he stands. For a few seconds, he looks me up and down like he's assessing a cut of meat. Then he nods with satisfaction and walks out.

A guard brings out another woman and pushes her on to the stage. Her eyes are dull and unfocused, and she's clearly been drugged. I suppose I should be grateful that hasn't happened to me. At least I still have my wits about me. When Aleks comes, I can run if necessary.

The auctioneer begins to extol the virtues of the new girl while I'm dragged away and shoved in a small room with a chair and a bottle of water.