Chapter 3

VERA

There is a ray of brilliant sunshine beaming at the end of the dark, torturous tunnel I’ve been trapped inside. It’s been three years

since I left Saint-Petersburg and came to America with the sole intention of being captured and sold at this auction. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Tonight, is the night. Two years of training and one year of slavery has led me to the prestigious New York virgin auction. They allow only the high ranking brotherhood members from around the country to participate.

A guard standing nearby clears his throat, but I keep my eyes on the ground. They have taught us to keep our eyes to the ground, unless someone speaks to us.

“Look at me, suka,” he spits, insulting me in Russian.

I raise my gaze to his face, but I don’t make eye contact. If I looked him in the eye, it would lead to a punishment. When I first arrived at the virgin camp, it took a lot of beatings to instill this discipline in me.

“Are you ready to be sold tonight?” He sneers, leering over me.

“Yes, sir,” I say, keeping my head bowed.

He does not understand how ready I am for tonight. Revenge is within my grasp, and as long as my uncle’s suspicions are correct, he will buy me.

The man I need to buy me has a weakness for redheads, and I’m the only one at this auction thanks to my uncle. It gives me an upper hand. If he doesn’t buy me, then everything I’ve worked for goes to waste, and I’d have to find another way.

“I’m sure you are, you slut. You are probably gagging for a master to take your virginity.”

I ignore his words as that is all they are—empty, pointless words. All the guards take joy in degrading us with insults or pain. I learned to delight in it. Part of my training before I arrived here with Uncle Igor was learning to endure unbelievable amounts of pain.

He chuckles and then grabs hold of my throat. “I’d love to fuck you,” he says, blowing his stinking breath in my face. The remnants of stale cigarette smoke and alcohol, making me sick to the stomach.

This guard hates that I never show fear, no matter what he does to me. I can’t breathe, as he tightens his grip on my throat. I keep calm. It helps that I don’t fear death, anyway.

He won’t kill me. It’s been annoying every guard that runs this place that no matter what they do to me, I don’t break down. Not once have I cried in their presence or shouted for them to stop.

I keep my teeth gritted together, as he punches me in the gut. Despite gasping for breath, I show no other signs of pain. They won’t break me. The end is close.

“It’s time to get them ready,” another guard shouts.

HE GRABS hold of my wrist, forcing me upright. He unclips the chains on my wrists from the wall, attaching me to one of the other nearby virgins. The men work to join us all in a line of metal.

The chains rattle, as they march us like cattle to the slaughter. Every night I’ve dreamed of this moment, whereas the other women will have been dreading it.

The girl behind me is breathing so hard it sounds like she might pass out. The girl in front trembles with fear. I’ve never been calmer in the past three years.

We’ve been here for twelve months together, yet I know none of their names. I recognize their faces but have never spoken to them. We’re not allowed to speak to each other.

I’m sure most of them no longer remember their own names. The brutal treatment we’ve been through breaks you mentally and physically. It turns most into the perfect slave.

They think I’m ready to be sold, but they have not broken me. I think they’ve got fed of trying. It would take much more to break my mind. The images of my family slaughtered are all I’ve held onto for three years, and the name of one man.

Andrei Petrov.

“Stop and turn to the side,” the guard barks.

He will be here. It’s a guarantee since he owns the club we’re in. The only thing out of my control is whether he will purchase me.

The guy who runs our slave training steps into the room, clearing his throat.

I know it’s him before he has spoken because of his strong tobacco scent. “The time has come.” He claps his hands together. “All of you will auctioned off to the highest bidder. Remember your training and don’t break the rules while up on stage.” There’s a crack of a whip and everyone tenses. “You don’t want me to remind you what happens when you don’t obey.”

One girl sobs and I hear a trickle of water. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls, stampeding toward her. “What pakhan wants a woman who pisses herself?”

The whip cracks, and she screams as it connects with her bare flesh. We’re all naked, other than a skimpy lace thong covering our innocence. “Take this one back and give her a beating. She’s not ready.”

I swallow hard, trying not to let their treatment of her affect me. I’m here for me and no one else. This is the Bratva way of life.

“Now, I expect the rest of you to remember your training and impress the men wanting to buy you.”  His footsteps come closer and he stops in front of me. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” everyone mutters.

He grips my chin between his finger and thumb hard, forcing me to look up at him. “Still not scared of me?” he asks.

I don’t reply, keeping my jaw clenched tight.

He shakes his head. “Keep your heads down, as one of our most prestigious guests is here for a preview.”

We all fall into submission, keeping our eyes to the ground.

“Thank you, Rykov,” a deep baritone voice cuts through the room.

“Sir,” the slave trader replies.

The temptation to glance up at the newcomer is great, but I keep my head bowed. His heavy footsteps echo closer and closer as I keep my eyes fixed to the ground. Another pair of shoes appear in front of me—expensive, polished black brogues.

A shiver runs down my spine as the man speaks, “Look at me,” he commands.

I raise my gaze to his face, keeping my attention on his face but not his eyes. A cold dread slices through me as I recognize him. The man I’m here to kill.

I school my features as my uncle has taught me to do, not allowing an ounce of emotion through the barrier. Inside, hot rage is bubbling like lava beneath the earth’s rocky surface.

“Look me in the eye,” he commands.

A flood of panic fills me, as it’s not a usual request. Eyes are the gateway to your soul and I can’t afford him learning the truth in mine.

They are the hardest part of your body to mask, but I do as he says, keeping my glare cold. Even if there’s a burning inferno of pure hate and rage bubbling within me.

His dark eyes are almost kind as he stares into mine. I expected ice, but they’re warm. I’d seen photos of him from three years ago, but he is more handsome than in those.

His hair is styled longer on the top and shorter on the sides. The only difference is that he has a neat beard that he didn’t have in the photos.

However, in those photos he was leering over my dead family. As he keeps my gaze, I detect the passion and desire in his eyes. It’s enough to make me sick to the stomach.

This man murdered my entire family in cold blood. He’s the reason I’ve endured all this pain. The reason I’m here to end him once and for all.

“Krasivaya,” he utters.

My eyes widen for half a second, shocked at hearing him utter that word. There’s a pulse of something between us as we stare at each other, silence falling for longer than it should.

Rykov clears his throat.

It seems to break Andrei’s attention. “Return your gaze to the ground,” he orders, the cold and commanding tone back in place.

I do as he says, despite itching to wrap my fingers around his throat and choke the life out of him. It figures they would give him an early viewing of the offerings. The man has never been to this auction and not bought a virgin. The first years he purchased one under his father’s instruction, but has upheld it since his death two years ago. He no doubt fucks them and discards them once he’s taken their virginity.

He doesn’t ask any of the other girls to look at him, making me more certain than before he will pick me. The plan is going as I’d expected up to now. It is mere minutes until we will be paraded onto the stage and sold.

“I’ll see you out there, sir?” Rykov asks, for the first time, I’ve learned the name of the man who has beaten us into submission.

“Yes,” he says, before leaving the room.

My breathing has sped up and so has the normally stable beat of my heart. The encounter with him before the auction is something I didn’t foresee. I was ready to walk onto that stage and for him to buy me. I was not expecting such a close encounter with him before it.

For the first time since they took me into the virgin camps, he has rattled me. It feels like that one encounter has sent me spinning off course, and I’m not as grounded as I was minutes earlier.

I shut my eyes and try to control myself, remembering my training. My uncle’s voice sounds in my head on repeat.

Breathe and picture your goal in your mind.

I do that, forcing myself to bring my emotions under control. Up to now, my training has all been theoretical.

I’ve never been confronted with the emotions that flooded me the moment I

looked into his eyes—a monster’s eyes. But, it will take a lot more than an unexpected visit from Andrei Petrov to derail me.

So much more…