Highest Bidder

It felt as though someone had stabbed a knife into my heart. I held my hand to my chest. That was not what had happened. He had been sold the technology and then the boy had disappeared. He had been the one defrauded. I wanted to scream at them, but their words continued to wash over me.

“She has some kind of clothes shop now and she’s going around begging everybody to buy something from her,” another woman spoke up.

“What a brazen hussy. I almost told my husband to get someone from the committee to kick her out. I can’t believe she was invited here,” another voice spat spitefully.

“I saw that she brought her daughter along. Perhaps she’s trying to find a husband for her. Good luck with that. No one here will touch her with a bargepole. She’s toxic forever.”

“But I heard that her husband was framed, and that was why he couldn’t take the shame—”

“He wasn't framed!” came the argument from the first voice. “My husband was in charge of the investigation then and had direct access to all the facts.”

“She shouldn’t even be allowed here then.”

“She tried to speak to my husband and me about her new boutique. When we showed her no interest, she had no choice but to move on. That’s what we should all do. We should boycott her.”

“I’ll see how long I can stand her and then I’ll get someone to kick her out,” said a woman.

I thought I recognized her voice. Her husband used to do business with my father. She was always on the committee of Charity events.

Someone added something else that I couldn’t catch, but no doubt spiteful and cruel, and they all laughed. It was followed by clicks of their heels as they headed out of the Ladies. Like a pack they came in, and like a pack they left.

Tears rolled down from my eyes at the memory of the father I had so loved, and of the last moment I had seen him, lifeless and hanging from the ceiling of our magnificent home back in Mayfair.

I rose to my feet then and pushed the door open. I wanted to run to my mother, and to quickly drag her with me out of here, but as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I loathed what I saw.

A spineless scurrying victim, indeed akin to the very rat they had ascribed us to.

My father had indeed been framed and no one in this room had any right to condemn us. We would be staying till the end no matter what. I went towards the mirror and after washing my hands, tidied my makeup and walked out into the party. But as I passed by the hallway leading to a small but glorious city garden, I couldn’t help wandering out there. Just for a few minutes. Then I would rejoin the jackals, hyenas and cold-blooded crocodiles.

I was so numb I didn’t realize my legs were trembling, but as I was walking down the short flight of stone steps my knees wobbled, my footing slipped, and I began to fall, my arms flailing out uselessly as I tried to grab something and caught only empty air. I would have tumbled down the short flight of steps and turned the nightmare evening into a complete disaster.

If not …

For the strong arm that came around my waist to pull me up. Shutting my eyes with relief, I accepted the support and tried to regain my footing.

“Thank you,” I breathed. Then something clicked inside me and my heart jumped. That aftershave. The strength of the hand. I glanced back to see the all too familiar hazel eyes of Brent Lucan. I wanted to move away, but he held me tightly in place. I tried to loosen his steel hold around my waist, but he refused to let go.

Freya

“Why are you crying?”

“Let me go. Don’t you know I’m toxic?” I muttered.

He frowned. “You’re not toxic.”

“Well, you should go back in there and tell all those fine folks that.”

“Are you alright?”

“Let me go!” I repeated through clenched teeth, but to my shock, he scooped me into his arms.

“Brent!” I yelled in shock.

“I don’t trust you on these stairs. I’ll let you go at the base.” He did as he promised and looked down at me curiously. He had on a long dark coat and a simple black tuxedo. His torso filled out the rich material, his dark hair slicked away from his face. He looked like he had stepped out of a James Bond movie.

I felt my heart start beating too fast.

“Why are you so upset?” he asked.

I wondered if he also knew. “Do you know about my father?”

He didn’t miss a heartbeat. “What aspect are you asking about?”

“About the … reason he … he … took his own life.”

“Yes, I know.”

I didn’t know how to feel. I shouldn’t have cared but I did. I looked away and brushed my hair over my shoulder. “And what is your opinion about it?” I demanded. “Do you also think he was a fraud?”

“Why does what I think matter?”

“I just want to know,” I insisted.

His eyes glittered. “Tune out the world, Freya. These gossips are nothing. Focus on yourself alone. You have enough money now to pay all your debts and concentrate on your education. You have your whole life ahead of you and if you play your cards right, you could have a wonderful life.”

I stared at him wordlessly. “So you were helping me that night when you offered so much money for me?”