Chapter One
“Resisting temptation never works, you know that, right?” -RF.
Samson
For so long, I’ve dreamt of the one woman who would be mine. All mine. One who will not give in to my brother. Younger, more handsome, and easy with his laughter, Caleb takes what’s not his. Neither one of us lives up to our Biblical namesakes. At thirty-five, I’ve given up on love altogether but have formulated a new plan.
I’m going to buy a bride.
Callous as it may seem, property doesn’t cheat, doesn’t steal, and doesn’t turn its back on you. The McCrea crime family is supposed to put family above all others, but I can’t do that anymore. I am supposed to allow my brother the liberties he’s taken, but I can’t do that anymore either. I’ve been burned by the one man who is supposed to have my back at all costs. When I was a senior in high school, my girlfriend, Hallie, cheated on me with Caleb. I found them in the backseat of my car after the varsity football game I just played in. Thank God I didn’t fuck her, but after that, it was any girl I took out. He fucked and dumped them before I even had the chance. Not that I am as douchy as all that. Because of him, I haven’t been with a woman in twenty years. I’m sick of it, and because of that, I now find myself blindfolded in a parking garage in downtown Atlanta about to be taken somewhere private so that I can bid on the girl.
I don’t know her name; I just saw her in a catalog. She was sitting so prim and proper in a chair. Her price isn't as high as some of the others, but her demands are intriguing. Her price is also much lower than the other girls up for bid. I’ve seen some as high as twenty million, but what they don’t know is that I’d give up my entire fortune for this girl.
$1M; MUST TAKE POSSESSION IMMEDIATELY. NO SEXUAL CONTACT FOR THREE MONTHS. NO RETURNS OR EXCHANGES. SPECIAL RESTRICTIONS APPLY.
She was the only one fully clothed. She screams underage but still, I want her. I crave her and her innocence. I'll abide by the rules though, even if it kills me. She tempted me more than the half-naked girls in the rest of the book. Something in those emerald eyes of hers. Something beckoning me to her. Like a moth to a flame.
A few days ago, I called Virginal Acquisitions on a whim and spoke to the madam, Lilith. I am not the type of man to pay for sex, but I want something more. Something more than I am going to find on my own. The catalog she sent to me by messenger was burnt in my fireplace when I was done with it. I’ll never forget her face anyway; it just pisses me off that there are other catalogs out there with her in it.
Lot 21.
The tiny blonde has haunted my dreams for the last four nights, and I'll be damned if someone gets her before I do. I turn my head to the window as a figure approaches.
"Mr. McCrea, if you will step out of your vehicle," the man says. I do so, and a dark blindfold is pulled over my eyes. He pats me down for weapons, and I'm led somewhere by an elevator and sat in a soft leather chair. The blindfold is taken off, and a waitress is hovering in the corner. "67 will see to your needs while you are here. However, she is not to be touched." The man leaves, leaving the door open. I'm impressed by the safety measures, and anonymity Lilith has in place for her girls.
"Understood. I'll have a Jameson neat. I brought my own cigar if that's alright." Nothing beats a hand-rolled cigar from Ybor City, just outside of Tampa. My work frequently takes me to Tampa, where Cuban expatriates have brought their craft with them.
"Of course, sir. Right away," she says before leaving. She comes back quickly with a high ball of the best Irish whiskey money can buy. If it’s not apparent, I generally prefer all the best things that money can buy.
"Thank you. That will be all."
"Very good. I'll be just outside the door if you need anything else. The auction will begin shortly." Then I'm alone staring at a closed black velvet curtain through a giant monitor mounted to the wall. This is all so clinical. Just what I need. A transaction like this doesn’t need emotion. Emotion just gets in the way. I take a drink of the whiskey before setting it down. I pull a cigar out of my coat pocket, cutting it before lighting it. They took my phone, so I can do nothing but stare off into space. The lights flicker in the room the same way they do at a playhouse when intermission is over. I take a deep puff of my cigar just as the curtains open. One by one, the scantily clad girls that I have absolutely zero interest in keep appearing on the screen until 21 comes up. Again, she's fully dressed in a knee-length black dress with a red ribbon tied around her waist. She has no make-up on. She looks fresh-faced and wide-eyed. She doesn’t pose like some of the other girls did. She stands rail straight, hands clenched at her side. What happened to you, angel? I wonder as the bidding starts. I swear to God, I push the little red button on the table so hard, and so fast I'm pretty sure I broke my index finger. What’s a little pain now that she’s in my world?