Priceless (Ruthless Doms 1)

I’d shoot every motherfucker in here. I’d kill every single one of them if it meant keeping their predatory eyes off of her. I’d flood this room with a river of their blood to keep her safe.

Because Marissa Rykov is fucking mine.

I realize with shock that bidding has begun. I grab my device and shoot my hand in the air. I don’t even know what number we’re at.

But Jesus. I’m not the only one who has this idea. Fuck.

One bid follows mine, then a second, and a third. I increase my bid with steadfast determination. What do I do if the bid goes above what I can deliver?

I’ll find a way. I don’t care if I have to steal, pillage, and plunder my way there. I have several million tucked away and the means to make more, and there is nothing I won’t do to earn that money. I’m not leaving until she belongs to me.

The bidding ratchets higher and higher, five times every other bid I’ve heard tonight. It’s down to me and one other man. With his calculating eyes and a cruel twist of his lips, I can’t even think of what it would be like if Marissa ended up in his bed.

She wouldn’t, though. I’d have to kill anyone who ended up taking her.

I have to win her.

I keep his gaze, determined to outbid him, and he looks back at me angrily. His cheeks are splotchy red, his nostrils flared. The very thought of him touching her sickens me, my stomach twisting with nausea.

This is a battle, a war, and I’m not leaving until I’ve won.

He raises the bid again. The bidding is now seven times the highest bid placed tonight, and the room buzzes with anticipation.

“What’s so fucking special about her?” Erik mutters. “Jesus.”

I will beat him. I will punish him for not seeing how special she is, for daring to deny her utter brilliance.

Yakov narrows his eyes on him, then leans over the table to speak to me. “Aleks, you need a loan, you tell me.”

I nod in thanks, and raise my bid higher. I know right then, that there is no price I will not pay. The others can bid until they’ve spent every penny. They won’t outbid me. They can’t.

This is the woman I spent years of my life defending, protecting, as her paid bodyguard. Though she was so much younger than I was, I couldn’t help what grew between us. I wouldn’t allow myself to touch her, to defile her, not before she came of age. But as I maintained my austere distance, I watched her grow to be a woman under my stern and watchful eye. Resplendent. Radiant.

The day she was torn from my grasp, my life as I knew it ended. If I die rescuing her, it will be but a second death.

I have already determined to sell my soul to free her, and any sum I spend won’t even come close to her true value, her true worth.

Marissa Rykov is priceless.

My opponent wears spectacles on the bridge of his nose, and reminds me of someone I once knew. A politician? A professor? But he might as well be the fucking devil incarnate for all the hatred I feel toward him in this moment. He will not leave here the victor.

I quickly assess the weapons I have on my person. I could kill the man bidding for her, and possibly several more as well, but it’s a stupid, irrational thought. They’d take me down before the body had even hit the floor. We’re nowhere near land.

I have to outbid. Then once she’s mine, once I’ve paid for her as tribute, I’ll have to secret her away.

But first, I need to buy her.

No one speaks as we bid on. Even the background music fades. Waitresses don’t budge, all eyes fixed on the two of us. I can’t look at her. If I do, I’ll lose my resolve, I’ll lose my focus.

He places a bid that tops every penny I own.

With stern resolve, I lift my device higher.

We hold one another’s gazes.

He drops his hand.

“Sold!” our host announces. I watch in a state of shock as they lead her back to her cage.

I will kill anyone who laid hands on her. Their deaths will be slow and painful.

The red sold sign swings on her cage.

I slump into my chair, sick with my racing heartbeat.

I bought Marissa.

I found her.

Yakov grins at me and nods. “A round on me to celebrate our victory,” he says.

I want to claim her now. I want to rip open the door to her cage and throw her over my shoulder, like a caveman dragging his woman home. But I have to play this safe.

“I’ll take you up on that,” I say, releasing a breath. I glance at my watch. It’s ten o’clock at night.