“Avery, it’s highly unlikely we’ll come face-to-face with the Alpha in there.” He nods toward the Skylark. “We’re just playing a role. Gathering intel.”
I nod once, and then our door is opened. Carson steps out, mimicking Larkin as he reaches in to take my hand. I allow him to pull me from the limo and I do as instructed, acknowledging Carson as my Master. I bow my head and walk behind him.
Keeping Carson’s reassurance tucked close, I put one strappy heel in front of the other. The Alpha won’t reveal himself here. No, like all filth that dwells below the radar, the Alpha will watch the transactions from afar, until he’s assured the deals are complete. Then, his accomplices will lead us right to the bastard.
That’s when the second half of our party will take over the operation. Quinn fears my part, but going into The Firm is far less dangerous than his job. An ache fills my chest. I trust him, and I trust that he’s the best—he’ll be safe.
The foyer of the hotel smells of gardenias, the flowers displayed in tall vases throughout the pristine entry. I keep my head bowed as we enter an elevator, and as soon as Larkin opens the panel to select the penthouse floor, the car bounds upward. My stomach tingles from the sudden motion.
“Here.” Alexis turns toward me and presents a black satin mask. It’s been deliberately selected because it covers most of my face. As she slips it over my head and arranges it on my eyes, she leans in close and whispers into the ear without the earpiece. “Don’t be ashamed if you discover you enjoy being possessed. Only be ashamed if you deny yourself a chance to explore this side of yourself.”
My heart thunders to life, and I’m intently focused on my breathing. She pulls away and drags my hair over my shoulders, looking me over. “There. Now you’re ready.”
I’m not given another second to ponder her words as the elevator doors open to the penthouse. I’m thrust forward on sheer exhilaration, adrenaline blistering my veins, as I somehow find the courage to step forward.
Low, bass-filled music pulses within the room. The beat strikes my chest at the same time my senses are assaulted with every other sensation. The flicker of candles, the scent of floral incense. It’s impossible to keep my head bowed when I’m so tempted to look around.
From what I can discern, it’s not crowded; Larkin and Alexis stated it wouldn’t be—that these are not the masked faces of the regular members. These are the meticulously vetted and chosen buyers for the auction. The Alpha’s special selection.
Which means these are some of the most vile, corrupt men in all of the Virginia and DC area, if not the world. I wonder how many are politicians.
The walls are painted a deep red and black. Sheer material is draped between lounging spaces. Thick beams further separate the sections. And along the walls, bondage gear. Ropes. Chains. Toys. A room decorated to cater to any BDSM fantasy.
I stay a foot behind Carson as we weave through the throng gathered in the middle. I can’t help it; I peek up to witness Larkin step onto a platform and lift his hands to quiet the chatter before I stare back down at the lacquered floor.
He’s donned a mask, as well as Alexis, who stands just below him. Every person here wears some form of cover to conceal his or her identity. It won’t matter. That won’t protect them. Every single body in this penthouse is, as I stand here, being identified and marked by Quinn and Sadie in the surveillance room set up at Lark and Gannet.
The list of names Larkin gave Quinn of the buyers was the trade-off for our cooperation on this operation.
“Sirs and madams,” Larkin says, and the room quiets further to hear his speech. “I welcome you to the first ever Firm Auction.” Light applause trickles through the room. Carson only hesitates a moment before he joins in. “Before the auction begins, please indulge in the festivities we’ve arranged for this evening. It’s never ideal to purchase on impulse, so fill your gluttonous desires.” A short burst of laughter erupts. “Enjoy.”
Pressure beats at my temples. This is our cue to move to the voyeur section. Even though I’ve been prepped, the knowledge of what’s about to commence jacks my heart rate.
Carson slips his arm through mine and guides me toward the lounging area. Larkin made sure we understood the dynamics of the penthouse, and we ease into the scene without garnering any unwanted attention.
I let Carson seat me on a spacious velvet couch, relieved to be in the safest area of the penthouse. So f
ar, everything has gone according to plan. As Carson takes his spot beside me, accepting a flute of champagne from a hostess serving drinks, the room becomes a living force.
The music heightens, the lights dim, and from the other side of the room, in walks the most beautiful, exotic women I’ve ever seen. They’re clad only in silver masks. Their gorgeous, naked bodies shimmer with a metallic gloss, illuminating their skin and plunging this scene into an ethereal realm.
Each woman takes up a post near one of the suited men. I’ve counted around ten men—buyers—so far. Some have brought their subs or slaves…or maybe even their wives along with them. I’m not sure how this works, what the parameters are—how one goes about purchasing another human being. But I don’t have time to speculate as one of the breathtaking vixens approaches us.
I can almost hear Carson gulp his champagne as she stops right in front of him.
“Hello, Master. My name is Tanja.” Her voice is a tinkle soft chime. “I’m your gift tonight. How can I service you?”
We, however, were not warned about this development. And for all Carson’s coaching, he’s barely able to keep his stoic expression in place. I spot Larkin near the platform, and he raises his champagne glass in our direction. A knowing smile spreads across his face. Bastard.
Carson clears his throat, sets the flute on the floor to his right. “My angel and I like to watch,” he says, pressing back into the couch. “That is, of course, why we’re in the voyeurs’ section.”
Her smile sets her soft features aglow behind the mask. “Your wish is my command, Master.” She beckons with a curl of her finger, and another woman saunters over from across the room. She’s trailed by a tall, leanly built man in a black suit. My chest constricts. This was not a part of the program. And what’s worse, despite his mask, I recognize him as Larkin’s named partner. Mike Gannet.
Gannet inclines his head to us in greeting as he stretches out along the couch, then he waves his hand in a quick flick to the women. “Give us a show,” he orders. Then to Carson, he leans his head near and says, “I can rarely bring myself to share my sub—” his dark eyes devour the blonde “—but when in Rome, right?” He turns a jeering smile on Carson, but his hungry gaze flits to me.
A shiver crawls along my skin. I focus on keeping my gaze sealed on the women as they begin to fondle and caress. The blonde, Gannet’s sub, adorns the same diamond encrusted bird pendant around her neck I’ve seen on Alexis.
“She belongs to me,” Carson says, a dark note in his voice. “I don’t share. Ever.”