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Prince Player(71)

By:B. B. Hamel


I bite my lip and look down at the lovely carpet, not sure what to do with myself. We’re meant to pass time in this room until our name is called. Once we’re called, we go out into the auction room. I was told that I’m supposed to just stand there and look straight ahead. I won’t even see the men that are bidding on me until it’s all over.

So I’ll see the man that buys me for the first time only after I’m sold to him.

I can leave at any time. The Syndicate doesn’t keep us here against our will. They made it clear that they don’t want girls that will make trouble, and everyone has been vetted to the highest level possible. My demons almost kept me out of this place, but in the end they decided that they liked me enough to let it slide.

I don’t know why, but I’m happy they did. I think.

At the end of this, I might walk away with enough money to pay off my debts completely. I can leave at any time, so this could easily be a one-time deal. The girl that recommended me said that I’d end up wanting to do it forever once the money started, but I don’t know about that.

“Nervous?”

I’m pulled out of my thoughts and look to my side. A gorgeous girl with blonde hair smiles at me. She’s a little taller than me and wears a tight blue bodycon dress. She looks beautiful and for a second, she makes me a little self-conscious.

“Yeah,” I admit. “I can’t help it.”

She smiles. “Me too.”

“What are you nervous about? You’re gorgeous.”

She laughs lightly. “Thanks. But I’ve never done this before.”

“Really?” I ask. “I haven’t, either.”

“Please. You look way too sexy to be a first timer like me.”

“I am,” I say, suddenly relieved that someone is talking to me. Over toward the door, another name is called out, and a tall girl walks out of the room.

“I’m Lisa,” my new friend says.

“Aria.”

“Pretty name.” She looks around the room. “How do you think... this works?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if nobody bids on me?”

“Oh,” I say. “I don’t know. I guess you just go home.”

“Can it be that simple?”

I shrug. “So far, I think so. They’re nice.”

“They are very nice,” she says. “Did you know that only rich men can bid on us?”

“I didn’t, actually,” I say, a little surprised.

“Yeah, that’s what I heard. This is only for very wealthy men. It’s why we’re treated so well. They don’t want a bunch of abused girls getting involved with these men. We’re supposed to be professionals.”

“I don’t feel like a professional,” I admit. “I just feel nervous.”

“Yeah,” she says, laughing lightly. “Me too. But we’ll get through this, right?”

I nod. “Right. Of course.”

Just talking a little bit to Lisa loosens me up a little bit. She smiles at me. “We’ll talk later. Good luck. There’s a glass of wine with my name on it.”

“Thanks. You too.”

She walks off toward the bar and I watch her go. My mind drifts back to the task at hand and the temporary reprieve from the nervousness is suddenly gone, and it floods back in.

But I don’t have long to wallow in it, because a couple minutes after Lisa walks away, the man at the door calls my name.

“Aria!”

It pierces through me like an arrow. I freeze, unable to breathe, as I stare at the man. He looks around the room for a second, eyebrow cocked, and I can’t move. I’m petrified.

“Aria!” he says again. “You’re up!”

I take a step. And then another. And soon I find myself walking quickly toward him. Being careful in my high heels. They make my ass look great but they hurt my feet like crazy. He nods and takes my elbow.

“This is easy,” the man says. He’s young, maybe in his thirties, with a long ponytail and a thin face. “I’m going to put you in a room right in the middle. Then a bunch of lights will come on. You stand there and wait. Men will be looking at you, so don’t pick your nose. You’ll be asked to turn, please obey. When it’s done, you’ll be taken into another room where you’ll meet your client. Understand?”

“I understand,” I say. “But how long will they get me?”

“Let’s see,” he says, looking at his clipboard. “You’re up for... one month.”

“One month?” I ask, surprised.

“That’s the minimum amount.” He shrugs. “You’ll do fine.”