A Mafia's Nightmare

Nox’s Pov

“Gentlemen, we have come to the end of our little show,”

I watch the host of the underground yet popular event. He's dressed in an all black suit, a tailcoat on top, and a black hat over what I'm certain is a bald head.

He is a very ugly man, but in my world, you don't have to be attractive to pull the kind of women he owns. He has them swarming around him, of all sizes and colors.

Fortunately for Mr Reed, I don't care for all that.

I don't care about having a flock of women around me, or parading myself on the dark streets of London, because if I do, if I even think about doing it, he wouldn't be standing on that podium, holding a microphone in his right hand with a stupid grin on his face.

“And now, the moment you all have been waiting for, the main reason why we are all gathered here,"

Reed's eyes greedily scan the crowd. I know he cannot wait to get his dirty, stubby fingers on the wads of cash that was about to flow out of men like me. I say again, he is fortunate that I do not care for the things that he does.

Not only do I not care about fame, out of my sheer generosity, I let him run the show. I let him do whatever he wants, as long as he brings me what is mine on the agreed day, time and place.

“It is time to place our bids,"

When he makes his announcement, his slightly brown colored teeth reflect against the bright light above his head.

A five foot tall man who took less care of himself with each passing day, yet managed to have his way with models twice his height, and thrice his looks.

Reed is living proof that… you know what, I'll keep that to myself. It's too early to hate me.

“Let's start with girl number two,"

After he speaks, he turns. There is a projector behind us, behind all the high and mighty men. It comes on, showing an image behind Reed. The image of a girl. Girl number one.

I look around me for any interested buyers. I watch out for keen eyes, satisfactory nods, even a glistening of lust. The higher the number of patrons, the more intrigued I become.

However, for this particular girl, who doesn't look so bad, there are no interests. Not even one.

“Well then,"

My focus returns to Reed when I hear him take in a quick breath.

"Let's move on to girl number two.”

Then, the projector changes its image. I look around like I did the first time, searching for what will drive me. This time there were some interests.

A few. Not enough. I return my gaze ahead of me.

“Do we have interested buyers?"

My eyes scan the slightly blurry image before me. Her eyes are light brown. Her skin is almost the color beige. She's wearing a long blue dress, with spaghetti straps.

I remember watching her strut down the aisle in her bathing suit. I know others remember it too. That's why their hands are lifted up when Reed asks for buyers.

Regardless, they're only five. Out of a room containing twenty men. Twenty perverted, lustful men. Five of them after a girl is not enough. At least for me.

I sit quietly as the bidding process begins. It's a rather short process, with less strife than expected. It's not my kind of environment. I live for the battle. It's thrilling. Exhilarating. Blood pumping.

The slide changes, a new girl is up. Girl number two has just been bought for ten thousand pounds. Cheap. Almost nothing.

While we feast our eyes on the new image, the short man wobbles down the small steps, hands the buyer a card to his new commodity, then climbs back up. It's almost enough to disgust me but the girl on the screen takes most of my attention.

She looks short, almost as short as Reed. She has a pale skin tone. It's not pretty, but it works. Her eyes are almost cat-like, a black line running along the edges. It's captivating. Intriguing.

Strangely, I don't remember her walking for us in her bathing suit. If I saw someone with a belly button piercing, I most definitely would remember, but I don't. It means she didn't show herself. It makes her all the more mysterious.

I don't have time to make my findings known. One look around me, I see nineteen hands. There's no need to count because I'm the only one who doesn't have his hand in the air.

“Wow." I hear Reed's stunned voice, bringing my eyes to his equally expressive face.

“I see I have struck gold."

His eyes glisten with greed, scanning across the room of hungry men. I immediately know this is the one. My eyes travel to her picture once again.

I notice the dark snake tattoo slithered around her left ankle. Her small round glasses give her a naive look, hiding away the eyes that reveal a little bit of danger.

The same danger that lures everyone that looks through her transparent glasses. The same danger that calls everyone in the room to her. The same danger that makes my hand shoot into the sky above my head.

“She even has the attention of our host!"

Eyes turn my way when Reed's voice cuts through the air. He is as shocked as the gazes that are thrown my way. My eyes lay straight ahead, staring at the snake tattoo on her ankle, wondering what it could mean.

“It's going to be a long night."

The tease in his voice is enough to irritate me but I'm more focused on laying my fingers on the card he's wielding in his left hand. Her card. The card that would give her to me.

“Hurry up with it Reed!" I bark at him in a low growl loud enough for the entire room to hear. “I have better places to be."

A lie I'm willing to die on. I have no other place to be. In fact, after we're done here, I'll head up to my hotel with one of my regulars, get my d*ck s*ck*d properly then lay my back down for an undisturbed sleep.

“Yes, of course. Let's get to the bidding.”

Finally,

I quietly clear my throat, loosening the hold of my tie with my index finger as I prepare for the main event.

I sit up on my chair, crossing my right leg over my left leg. My neck doesn't move but my eyes scan everyone in my peripheral view.

They all have their eyes on me.

They know what's coming. At least the old ones know, they'd be sensible to not even place any bids.

The newbies however, have no idea. They think they stand a chance against me, and that's what makes the process fun.

Not a lot of people know me. I'm a private man. My name isn't tossed like stones in the street, or anywhere else for that matter. I have eyes and ears.

Everywhere.

If my name is called, it gets to me faster than a little boy would run to his mother when she comes to pick him up at school.

And then you get summoned. To the rooftop of my hotel. Whether you make it down alive is dependent on what you say to me. How convincing you can be, which takes a lot of hard work. Not most people make it.

That's enough about me for now. I'm sure you're as interested in the bidding process as I am.

“Girl number three is going for…”

“Ten thousand pounds."

I hear behind me. I'm tempted to turn around, let out a loud, scornful laugh.

I don't.

I know the person has no idea who he's up against so I keep my composure and wait for the next newbie to make a pathetic bid.

“We have a ten thousand pounds from the gentleman in the left corner,"

My eyes shift from the picture to meet Reed's excited eyes. They're bouncing around in their sockets. I don't blame him. He knows he's about to make a lot of money.

“Ten thousand pounds going once."

“Twenty five thousand pounds."

I hear again, this time from my far right. I don't look, of course. I simply nod my head, lift up my squared glass for a sip of the vodka in it, then wipe down my bottom lip with my tongue.

“We have a whooping twenty five thousand pounds from the gentleman in the right corner,"

Reed is now bursting with excitement, he can barely keep his stubby feet on the floor. His stupid grin causes his cheeks to travel further into his face.

“Twenty five thousand pounds going once,"

I trace the edge of my glass with my finger, quietly, like a mantis waiting to strike.

“Twenty five thousand pounds going twice,"

I take the glass to my lips for another sip. The heat from the raw, unfiltered vodka slides down my chest.

“Twenty five thousand pounds going…”

"Forty thousand pounds.”

This time, I turn. A quick glance beside me to catch the fellow who placed the bid. He doesn't look at all familiar, but he keeps his eyes forward, focused on the prize.

Interesting,

If he's a newbie in this town, he wouldn't be a newbie to these kinds of games. A smile creeps onto my face as I face forward.

“Forty thousand pounds from the handsome gentleman in the right corner."

I quietly clear my throat again. I know it is almost time for me to make my dramatic bid.

"Forty thousand pounds going once,”

Reed counts to three before closing off a bid. While I wait, I hope that someone else places a bid. If everyone's hands were above their heads when her picture came up, I expect more from them.

“Forty thousand pounds going twice,"

Everyone is quiet. The man in a dark grey suit has a faint smile on his face. He believes he has the prize in his bag. He thinks he's won. It almost makes me laugh.

“Sixty thousand pounds."

A broad grin spreads across my face. Now it's a bid.

I glance at the gentleman beside me. His smile is no more. His cause is lost. Snatched away by the gentleman behind him.

A familiar looking gentleman if I might add.

But I hardly care about the people in the room, and as much as the bid is becoming what I want it to be, I'm becoming bored.

Actually, I'm tired. It's past my bedtime.

“Sixty thousand pounds! Going once,"

I raise my glass, emptying the glass of vodka in one gulp. It's time for me to put an end to my night.

“Sixty thousand pounds going twice,"

With a gentle slam, the bottom of the glass meets the black table. My fingers adjust the tie around my neck, my feet taking a stance under me.

Seconds later, all eyes settled on me as I raised myself to my feet.

“Hundred thousand pounds,"

The words leave my lips as casually as the money will leave my account.

I feel the scrutinizing pairs of eyes on me. The fact that I'm standing makes it even more elaborate. I can see their slightly tilted heads.

“A hundred thousand pounds!"

My attention returns to Reed when he squeals like a little girl. He sounds like he hasn't heard me say the words before, like it's the first time. When in fact, it isn't.

I will most likely say them again. Soon.

“A hundred thousand pounds going…”

“Is counting really necessary?"

He shoots me a puzzled stare when I cut him off.

With disgust in my voice, I turn to face the crowd of keen, masculine eyes. "Does anyone else have the money to pay for her?”

Not that I expect any objections but I still ask as the gentleman that I am.

“No? Good," Gracefully, I move my feet to spin my body around. My eyes fall on the card in the greedy man's hand. "Now let me have my card.”

"Yes, of course.”

I watch his little legs wobble down the small steps. He still has the stupid smile from when he started talking.

However, it doesn't irritate me anymore. I even show a smile as he approaches. He stretches his short arms towards me when he gets close, but not too close.

I'm known to love personal space. If you're not sucking my d*ck, I don't see why you should be up in my face.

“Send her to my car,"

The words leave my lips as soon as the paper comes under my fingers.

“You'll get your money by morning."

His grin widened, almost enough to make me punch him in the face.

"It's nice doing business with you, Mr Nox."

Elara’s Pov

My eyes try not to judge the fidgeting girls around me. My right leg is crossed over my left leg, my arms crossed across my chest. I seem to be the only calm person in the large, bright room.

Every other girl is either pacing around, chatting loudly and nervously, or swaying their legs repeatedly.

Quite sad if you ask me.

I don't understand why they're so antsy. It's almost funny. Actually, it is funny, and I've laughed a couple of times. I didn't mean for them to notice but they did.

It's why no one has said any words to me since I walked in. I could care less anyway, I'm not here to make friends. Like them, I'm here to get picked, but unlike them, I know exactly what I am being picked for.

Everyone thinks they're here to be cast as models. It's what the internet ad promised. It's what drew all of them here, bringing with them visions of glamour and fame. Not me though. I know why I'm here.

It also says that if we're picked