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Authors: A. A. Dark,Alaska Angelini

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Chapter 2

Bram

 

Red. All I saw was red as I let the guard’s body fall to the bottom of the shower. He’d been standing at the far side, holding to slave Vicolette when I burst into the restroom. I hadn’t even remembered he was there after I saw Torrance raping my slave. Nothing mattered in that split second but killing my cousin. Blood-related or not, Torrance disobeyed my orders. Orders, I was very specific on.
Situation in room two-fourteen, detain the slave. Don’t hurt her.

I turned, heading back into the bedroom. The covers were pulled back on the bed, no doubt from when the girl woke up. She’d been sleeping when I left this apartment. Then again, her Master had also been alive, then.

“Slave.” The name came out more as a growl and I took a deep breath, trying to calm the fury inside. “Don’t make me call you again. If I have to look for you, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

A few seconds passed before dark, wet hair swayed into view from the entrance of the closet. Blue eyes peeked out, giving view to her thin nose and full lips as she took a step. She was beautiful, even with the tears sliding down her cheeks. She eased closer, pulling the robe around her tight. “I didn’t do it. I swear, Mr. Whitlock. I didn’t kill my master. Please don’t send me to the White Room. I swear—”

“Enough.”

A sniffle left her and her head lowered while she sobbed. I walked around the bed, narrowing my eyes as she glanced up through wet lashes.

“You’re to be sent to Slave Row. Your master is dead. You will be resold. First, you’ll follow me and do exactly as I say. If you do not, the guards will escort you to the Board where you’ll face trail.”

Wide eyes flared through her internal panic. I knew that expression. She was terrified, as she should be. Trial almost always meant certain death. Slave Vicolette wasn’t ready to die. Not yet.

“Come.”

I headed toward the door, catching a glimpse of my blood-drenched self in the mirror as I breached the living room. The splatter speckled my face and my white shirt exposed behind the dark suit jacket was drenched in the red substance. The sight was enough to have me slowing. This person, this monster, was me.
The real me
. Compared to the famous lawyer everyone knew as Bram Whitlock, this man was a stranger. Hardly even recognizable to me anymore. There was no warm smile. No honor or nobility to be found. I liked this version more. Here, I didn’t have to pretend to be normal or sane. This underground fortress was
mine.
I ruled here. My word was law, and I had authority even the most powerful men in the world didn’t hold. They were under my roof …
obeying me
.

Slave Vicolette’s reflection stopped next to mine and I met her red-rimmed eyes for only a moment before her head lowered again. But her vision didn’t go to the ground, it went to her master’s dead body.

“Are you happy to be rid of him?”

“What?” At my silence, her stare rose back to me. “No. God, no…” she trailed off, not able to hold in the sob that left her shoulders shaking.

“He beat you, yet you seem to have cared for him. Am I correct by my assumptions?”

“He may have beat me, but he was kind. Gentle, even. He used to hold and sing to me. He was a g-good man.”

Brainwashed fool. “He was a pedophile, piece of shit. You wouldn’t know a good man if he was standing before you. Do you so easily block out what he did to you the first day he bought you? How about when I found you at fourteen years old? You didn’t try to kill yourself for nothing. He raped you for years before he broke you. And that’s what you are. A broken toy for sick, twisted fucks who have a lot of money. Although, this time, I don’t believe you’ll do as well as you did with your previous master. You’ve been shielded for too long from the horrors of this place.”

I didn’t wait for her reaction. I turned, heading for the door to the apartment and swinging it open. Five guards stood outside the door, but it was hard to pay them any attention when I felt my slave’s presence so strong behind me.

“Have this mess cleaned up. Master Vicolette and Torrance’s bodies are to go to the holding room. Slave Vicolette—” I glanced back at her. “Slave Vicolette is to be showered and then escorted to Slave Row. She’s no longer claimed. She’s dead like her master and therefor loses her title. Twenty-four-six-ninety. That’s who you are, again,” I said, glaring into her light, blue depths.

“P-please, Mr. Whitlock.” Her head shook back and forth in small movements. The long length was curling due to the dampness and I hated how in so many of my dreams, I’d gripped to the beautiful tresses, loving how I could almost feel the softness between my fingers.
Feel something I never would.
Perhaps I was bitter and cruel, but being around her for any length of time made me soft. I couldn’t afford that and neither could she.

“You’re to be stripped of your title and stripped of your finery.” I reached out, ripping the delicate gold chain off of her neck. The heart pendant made me sick. I knew when she’d gotten it—Christmas, four years ago.

“When they get you cleaned up, you’re to go to Medical. Afterward, your hair is to be cut short. Slaves don’t have the luxury of long hair. If I hear of you giving anyone problems, I will deal with you personally. I’m still on the fence about having you taken to the White Room. Don’t give me the excuse I need to send you there.” I let my stare come back to the guards. “No one touches her; do you hear me?”

“Yes, Master.”

The words echoed through the hall around me and I met Billy’s gaze. The blond guard wasn’t getting off so easily. Once I viewed the tapes and saw exactly what he’d done, his time would come.

“I want word when she’s locked up. Lyle, you’re promoted to high leader. I expect a full report.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”

My hand rose, pointing to twenty-four-six-ninety. “Anyone lays a hand on her in any way that’s inappropriate, kill them. If you don’t, your life is mine. Don’t for one-second think I don’t see everything that happens here. The shadows hide nothing, and she’s going to make me money. It may not be a lot, but no one messes with my investments.”

“She will remain untouched.”

Again, my attention went to Billy. He had his head down, but his eyes were cut up to mine. The anger he held couldn’t be hidden no matter how much he tried. It brought a smile tugging at my lips as I stared him down. When he dropped his gaze to the ground, satisfaction soared. I turned, heading down the long hall. I needed to get back to my quarters and review what the fuck happened.

“Don’t leave me with them, Mr. Whitlock. I b-beg you. Please!”

I slowed, clenching my jaw and closing my eyes. My love for her burned into my chest like a hot poker. It stirred things inside of me that were dangerous to acknowledge. Yet, I turned, withholding all emotion as I stared at the woman I’d known since she was a girl.

Everleigh Davenport. That had been her name. She’d been born to a wealthy man. A man Mr. Vicolette hated. But he hadn’t hated
her
. The sick fuck loved her. Even at the tender age of ten when he’d had her taken and brought here. An act that almost had my father killing him. That wasn’t how we worked. We acquired our own slaves. We were responsible for their disappearances, no one else. Yet, my father pardoned him and allowed the girl to stay. He even had her parents killed at a hefty price to Mr. Vicolette. But it had to be done. There were no loose ends when you ran the world’s largest fun house. Celebrities, politician’s, they all took up residence here when they weren’t pretending to be someone else. We couldn’t afford risk, not that I worried too much about the outside law. Our pockets were deep and my five main masters had influence and connections in all the right places.

“Don’t leave me alone with them. I’ll do anything! Please!”

The drawn out plea had me walking back toward them. Not once did I break the stare from my slave.
Mine
… because no matter who bought her, she’d never belong to them like she did to me. Her future buyer may hold the title of Master, but I owned her very breath.

“Who is it you think you’re talking to, your savior?” I stopped inches before her, grabbing her face in a grip so tight she cried out. “You are nothing. No one. You are not entitled to requests. I gave them an order and they will follow it.” I paused, easing my hold and sliding my hand over her bruised and swollen cheek. The evil in me retreated as my gaze swept over her. Even beat to hell, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Maybe even more so like this. “Your fear is unwarranted,” I said, softly. “Let me show you.”

My hand dropped and I brought my attention to Lyle, the new high leader. I looked between him and Billy, not able to hold in the sadistic grin. My finger rose and I pointed to the guard who I knew took part in my slave’s rape and beating. “I have no tolerance for anyone who disobeys orders. High leader, cut off his left hand.”

“What? Wait!” Billy stumbled back, shaking his head. “I
was
following orders. We were to secure the scene of a hostile situation. I did that. The bitch had a knife!”

My gaze lowered to slave twenty-four-six-ninety’s and my hand dropped. “Did you hold a weapon?”

“I … did. They were going to rape me. I tried to tell them I didn’t kill my master. They didn’t care. They were going to hurt me anyway.”

“So you didn’t have a weapon until
after
they arrived?”

“No,” she rushed out. “I took it from my Master’s body when they sent everyone outside the apartment. I requested to go in front of the Board, but they wouldn’t listen.” She peeked over at Billy. “He tackled me down and started beating me. That’s when they pulled me into the bathroom and …”

I let one of my eyebrows draw up as I gave Billy a look. “Is this true? Was she denied her request to face the Board? Did you hit her?”

“Torrance was my leader. He denied her. I was following
his
orders.”

“I am the main master here! You follow
my
orders. Did he specifically tell you to beat her? Her—a woman not even half your size?”

The disgust in my words had him taking even more steps back, but the other guards were already circling him, even if they were glaring at my slave.

“Well … no. But she was fighting.”

“As would anyone being faced with
rape
. The difference here is that once her master was killed, she became mine. You know that. So what it comes down to is, you beat
my
slave with the intention of following in this rape. There’s nothing else left to say. You’re lucky all you’re losing is your hand. Touch her again, your dick will be next.”

I snatched my slave’s arm, jerking her forward as I led her down the hall. The yells in the distance turned to screams and I soaked them in, letting the hate inside take over.

Doors opened ahead and the masters quickly returned to their safe haven after seeing me. This may have been their sanctuary, but they had good reason to hide. I held the key to their filthiest kinks—to their sickest sins. And I had the power to take it all away.

 

Chapter 3

West

 

“Slave Vicolette.”

My head dipped the slightest amount with respect for her master, but stopped short at the new bruising covering her face. She hadn’t been that bad off when Bram and I had seen her sleeping earlier.

“She’s not a Vicolette anymore. She’s slave twenty-four-six-ninety now.”

I went to speak, but stayed silent as I stared between her and Bram. He held to her roughly, tugging at her arm as he led them toward his bedroom door.

“Pull up the footage on their apartment. Have it ready for me. I want to see what the fuck happened after we left.”

“Footage? You have cameras in—” The soft voice was drowned out by Bram’s growl.

“No questions, slave. I wasn’t talking to you.
You hear nothing.
You are no one.”

They disappeared through his room and I walked over to his desk. The shower started and I couldn’t help but let my eyes drift up to the threshold of where they’d gone. The moment I had the apartment pulled up, I turned to the bar, pouring myself a drink. And again, I looked ahead.

“You got it?”

Bram swept through and I glanced over, nodding with my head. “All ready to go.” The pressure of the water changed and I tried to ignore the fact that she was in the shower.
His shower.
Here, within the same walls as me. We were so close.

Bram took a seat behind his desk, clicking the play button. We were walking away from Mr. Vicolette. The master’s expression was still furious from our argument. He meant to acquire a new slave at the coming auction. Another girl of barely ten he’d witnessed on his stroll through The Cradle. Bram wasn’t having it. The outrageous sum was meant to deter the old man, but he was consistent with his bargaining.

Since Bram had taken over, things had changed. The Cradle housed all those under the legal age. Where once they were given to anyone who could pay the price, now they were off-limits to the perversion that once reigned supreme. The masters were allowed visitation to their slaves but only supervised, and never for anything sexual until they were of a certain age. Master Vicolette didn’t like the new rules and argued over the old ways. He’d lost in the end. He couldn’t afford the price, not that anyone would have been able to. Even I was shocked at the sum. But Bram’s dislike of the man was evident. And I knew why.

Back and forth the old man paced. When his head jerked toward the door, the screen went black.

“What the fuck?” Bram clicked buttons, spinning to pin me with a stare so full of blame that my hands rose.

“Don’t look at me. I haven’t touched anything. I did as you said and pulled it up.”

“Only a select few could have erased the video. If it wasn’t you, then who? We separated after we left that apartment. Where did you go before coming here?”

He asked the question, but turned back to the screen, typing something in I couldn’t see. When the bedroom came into view and slave Vicolette lay there sleeping, I stepped forward. It wasn’t seconds later that the living room reappeared on the monitor. And with it, a masked man stabbing away.

“I went to get some coffee. Then I came here.”

“You enquired about the girl, West. You asked Mr. Vicolette what he meant to do with her if he got himself a new slave. How do I know that’s not you?”

The blade thrust into the old man’s eye and the darkly dressed figure stood from his body, heading straight for the door.

“Pull up the other cameras. You’ll see I went straight to the dining hall and returned here. That’s not me.”

Bram switched the view to the hallway, following the stranger through the labyrinth of tunnels until he was slipping through a secret door. It was so far down in the fortress that it could have led anywhere underground.

“Where did he go?” I whispered. “Do we not have cameras down there?”

“No. There’s another underground road that leads here. It hasn’t been used in quite some time, but I’m guessing that’s what he took to get in. How he knew about it and was able to slip past the guards is what I want to know.”

Bram re-winded the footage, going back to slave Vicolette’s bedroom while the murder was being committed. It wasn’t until seconds after the door closed that she stirred from sleep. The expression she held was one of sleepy confusion. She knew something wasn’t right, even in her slightly drugged state. And I knew she was drugged. Mr. Vicolette told us as much as Bram inquired about her well-being. Her beaten self was my guess as to why he put the sum so high.

“She was telling the truth.” Bram’s low voice turned angry toward the end as he shut off the recording of her rape and stood. I couldn’t help but follow him as he headed more into the living room.

“Will she go to Slave Row?” I paused, unable to stop the next question from coming. “Will she be put on auction?”

Blue eyes pierced mine as his lids narrowed. “You know that’s how it works, but that’s the last thing on my mind right now. I want to know who that motherfucker was that got inside my walls.” He took a step toward me. “You have been my best friend since grade school. You’re my business partner. We grew up in this place. Never once in all these years have you showed interest in buying a slave. Yet here you are, asking about her again, when we obviously have bigger problems. Are you implying you want to bid on her? That you want to become a part of this world more than what you already are now?”

My stare went to the bedroom door. The water was off. Was she dressing? Eavesdropping on our conversation?

“I was wrong to put her before the intruder. But yes, I think maybe I do.”

His head shook as he let out a loud exhale. “I never thought I’d see the fucking day.
You know what’s here.
This isn’t you, West. You’re not one of the men who belong in this world.”

“You know what I’ve done over the years. Same thing as you. Are you so sure about that? I’m telling you I want her. I want to
buy
her, Bram. What does that tell you about me? Obviously, I’m no better than any of them.”

“But you are.”

Continuously, Bram shook his head as he paced. I could see he was deep in thought. When he glanced toward the bedroom door, he stopped. Moments passed when suddenly he gave his head a hard shake.

“You can’t afford her.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You can’t afford slave twenty-four-six-ninety. I know how much you’re worth. You don’t have the money.”

I cocked my head to the side as anger filled me. “I’ll find it.”

“I said no.”

“No, you said I didn’t have the money. I’m telling you I do.
Are you
saying no? Is that what you’re doing?”

“You’re better than a used up slave. Find a real woman, West. A wife.”

I laughed under my breath, but it was anything but happy. “I don’t want a wife; I want her. Besides, you owe me. I’ve covered for your ass for more shit over these years, asking nothing in return. I’m not saying don’t charge me for her. Just give me the option to buy if that’s my choice.”

Bram’s jaw clenched repeatedly as he stared at me. “Fine. You want your chance to bid, you got it. But don’t think you’ll win. There are men out there willing to pay hundreds of thousands for their chance to use her as they see fit. If you think you can find the sum to win her, have at it. I won’t stop you. Just know you’ll be bidding for nothing.”

Cautiously, slave twenty-four-six-ninety emerged from the entrance of the bedroom, wearing the same white robe she’d come in. Her stare lifted right to me and I didn’t turn away like I usually did. I met her gaze with everything I had. There was no point in hiding my want of her anymore. She was free. To me, she was already mine.

“Let me have her now. Name your price, it’s yours. There’s no reason she has to go to Slave Row and endure what she’ll be put through. I can take care of her.”

Bram’s eyes flared with fury as his head jerked to me. “That is asking too much. You know that’s not how it works here. She
will
go to Slave Row, and if you want her, you
will
bid. End of discussion.”

My lips pressed together with my need to argue. It was pointless. I had known Bram almost my entire life. When he was set against something, swaying him was impossible. He didn’t want me to have her. That was clear. But I had a chance to win. I
would
win.

“Slave.” I tore my gaze from Bram’s and headed for the dark-haired woman who’d captured my attention from the first moment I saw her on the monitor. “I make no promises, but rest assured when the day comes for you to be bought again, I will do my best to make you mine.” I paused as I took in her beaten face. “Would you like for me to own you?”

“You?” She looked to Bram, only to come back to me. “I … I would be honored, Mr. Harper. Master,” she rushed out.

“I’m not your Master yet,” I said, smiling, “but perhaps soon. Until then, Mr. Harper will do.”

She gave a nod, walking to Bram’s side as he impatiently signaled for her.

“We’ll talk when I return. This isn’t over, West.”

Bram may have thought it wasn’t, but the conversation was at an end. He was going to try to get me to change my mind. Little did he know, I’d come too far to go back now. Slave twenty-four-six-ninety was going to be mine. I had made sure of it.

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