Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
His fingers trembled as he released her cuffs and yanked her slip down to cover as much of her as possible. Finally, he jerked upright, hauled her to her feet, and wrapped his cape around her nearly naked body, sheltering her from the audience’s predatory gazes.
“What an evening of delights!” Mr. Gray’s voice rang out across the Midnight Sanctuary. “Our finale ended with quite the ‘bang,’ wouldn't you say?” Raucous laughter rolled through the crowd. “For those already inquiring about our next event, merchandise is being procured as we speak. Those who didn’t claim a prize this time, join us next month for another spectacular auction. You might get lucky.” He winked.
As the crowd of perverts and degenerates clapped, Nash lifted her into his arms. She curled against his chest, seeking his protection. As if she’d been well and truly conquered, she lowered her stare.
Holding her close, he carried her down the steps and toward the rabid onlookers wearing designer suits that reeked of wealth and privilege. As the crowd parted for them, diamonds glinted on raised champagne glasses. Their wild gazes held a mixture of envy and raw lust that made Nash clutch Haisley even tighter. He vowed to destroy every one of these motherfuckers.
“You broke her in good,” someone called out. “Good job, man!”
“Fucking her is like fucking a tiger, isn’t it? All hissing and claws…until you make her kitty purr.”
It was a particularly vile comment, but Nash never wavered, playing the arrogant, entitled buyer proudly displaying his conquest. Inside, his heart bled for Haisley with every step. The way she played her role perfectly—defeated, subservient, broken—while he felt her fingers grip his shirt. Two performances in perfect sync, both of them dying inside.
“Dude! You’re the man. Looks like she was worth every one of those ten million bucks.”
Nash clenched his jaw, forcing himself to ignore their bullshit and back slapping. Instead, he fixed his face into a possessive smirk that said he couldn’t wait to get his prize alone.
As he strode from the Midnight Sanctuary, exhaustion tugged at him. He was spent on every level, and each step felt heavier than the last. But he couldn’t show weakness. Not here. Not now. Haisley shuddered in his arms, her breath coming in shallow pants against his neck, her body trembling with fatigue and stress.
The walk to their suite felt endless. A thousand apologies sat on the tip of his tongue. He forced himself to swallow them, focusing on his every step echoing through the marble corridors, not the homicidal rage boiling his blood.
Finally—mercifully—he reached the door to their suite. He wrenched it open, then kicked it shut behind them before stalking into the bathroom and setting Haisley on her unsteady feet.
She glanced up at him, trembling and trying bravely to hold herself together. His fury must have bled into his expression because she shrank back in fear. It nearly ripped him apart.
Nash resolved to make it up to her.
“Shower,” he ordered for the microphones as he tore the flimsy silk shift from her body. “Now.”
Haisley shivered and covered herself with her hands.
Jaw clenched, he prowled through the suite and turned on the built-in speaker system. A classic hard rock song filled the room.
With the music and water spray combined, he could buy them a few precious minutes of privacy. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but he and Haisley had to talk. Right now, before she crumbled. Before the trust between them was damaged irreparably.
He’d save the Santiagos’ sound-blocking technology for later to minimize suspicion.
Nash stomped back to the bathroom. She watched, wide-eyed, as he stripped and herded her under the warm spray, then followed, covering her body with his larger frame.
In the Midnight Sanctuary, he’d been all dominance and ownership. Now, despite having to maintain appearances for the cameras, his touch was gentle where it could be. He needed her to feel the difference, to know which Nash was real.
He slid his lips up her neck before settling his mouth at her ear. “We’re still being monitored.”
“I know.”
“Can you play along a little more?”
She hesitated, then nodded almost imperceptibly.
Thank fuck she trusted him at least that much. “Tonight has been awful. I’m so fucking sorry. Are you all right?”
She thrashed against him as if fighting the battle he’d already won on stage. “I don’t know.”
But she didn’t sound unsure at all. She sounded devastated.
“Did anything…happen to you before I got here?” he breathed against her neck. “Has anyone hurt you?”
She shook her head as if trying to ward him off. “Threatened. Leered. Made lewd remarks, but no one touched me.”
Thank god. He’d done enough damage tonight. He was glad someone else hadn’t compounded it.
“I’m scared.” Her voice cracked.
It nearly killed him. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so fucking worried, baby. I almost died when I realized you’d been taken. I got here as soon as I could.” He caressed his way down her side and pulled her leg over his hip, gliding his fingers to her ass for the cameras.