SEVER Jane, Melissa (management books to read .TXT) 📖

and pass the door at a sprint. I’m plunged back into semi-darkness on the other side and breathe a sigh of relief. I feel like a common outlaw and wonder if this is how Amanda felt at eight years of age stealing the connector pens. I’ve done so many questionable things of late I’d have my mother wondering if I’d been swapped at birth. Samantha is the reckless daughter, not me. I keep walking until I finally see an opening to the left which can only lead to one place.

I inhale and exhale, both excited and terrified.

It looks exactly like the hall I just came down, only mirror opposite. Stepping into the hall, I wait for my eyes to adjust to a virtually dark room. Murmurs ripple across the room so I know I’m not alone, murmurs belonging to both male and female. Anticipation is hanging thick in the air. I slide my hand along what feels like sandstone, and use it as a guide. Music begins, no vocals, just low and deep as voices grow more and more excited. I feel my heart pound to the same beat and wonder if I should run now before anyone finds me.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” I chide myself.

I’ve made it to the forbidden room, so I should be congratulating myself on my efforts. A faint glow brings the room to life before it brightens, casting long shadows over the stone floor. Although I can’t see their faces, there’s a group of mostly men gathered farther in. A woman in black lingerie walks around the circular room lighting more candle sconces. Positioned in front of the group is a clear box which I assume is a stage. It’s currently empty, but by the looks of it, will be the focus of attention very soon.

Positioned away from the group, I worry I’ll stand out, threatening to bring my night to an abrupt end. Straightening my shoulders and feigning confidence, I leave the comfort of my spot and cross the room to the gathering, my heels clicking on the polished concrete. Curious gazes assess me like I’m the new girl crashing a party of lifelong friends. I meet their stares head-on, ensuring my place amongst them. Somewhat appeased, they either continue their conversations or remain in their own company. I take the chance to observe. The tone differs from that where I’ve come from. Smiles and cheeky banter are replaced with a palpable tension I’d expect from discussions of war rules.

A man dressed in a tux walks on the clear stage where an upright drum stands. He hits the drum sending a reverberation through the room, the sandstone acoustics echoing the noise. The gathering quietens. The whole situation makes me incredibly nervous, and when I see the gentleman take the stage, I break out in a sweat. He’s a strikingly handsome man dressed in a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned enough to spy some chest tattoos. He wears a designer suit jacket and pants, and is exceptionally well-groomed. I wonder if he’s the owner of this establishment because he sure fits the role.

“Welcome once again,” he starts in a voice that carries authority. He reminds me of Kane in so many ways. “Great to see so many familiar faces. I trust this is the night you find what you’ve been searching for. I have some gems on offer, beautiful and exquisite in every way, some exotic and unique.” He pauses and takes a few steps. “You all know the rules of fair play. There are none. Fight for what you want and make no apologies… for if you don’t, you lose. But most of all, I bid you a successful and prosperous evening.” The man strides off the stage, and I move position to see where he disappears to on the other side of the room.

The gathering shifts, a new tension descending upon us. Suddenly, no one is friendly. Eye contact is avoided and jaws are set like stone, preparing mentally and physically to exit as winners.

What the heck is happening?

Seconds later, I feel the wind being knocked clean out of me. I’d so desperately wanted my answer to this whole convoluted charade, but now I would do almost anything to reclaim the last of my innocence. Another man dressed in a tux escorts a young girl to the stage. I pin her as being late teen, a collar wrapped around her neck, a chain connecting her to the escort. The girl appears dazed, her co-operation possibly due to being drugged, but I can’t be sure. They stop in the center of the stage then step behind her to remain unseen. The girl shifts and sways, her completely naked body on full display to at least two dozen pairs of prying eyes. I glance at those next to me, but they’re too transfixed to notice. It’s then I notice a figure to the side of the stage standing behind a podium, the faint glow of candle casting shadows across his indifferent face.

“Bid starting at five,” he begins.

Five what?

Dollars?

Thousand?

A bidding frenzy commences, and I watch in horror as the men and women in the gathering try to outplay each other all to win—a girl.

I’m disgusted and need to vomit. What’s more revolting is that no one cares about their perverted behavior. What is this world I’ve stepped into? I knew the venue was of a different flavor even before I set foot in it, but I never guessed it was a haven for rich deviants. As the first auction settles and another girl is paraded on stage, I recognize her instantly. Clutching my vulnerable stomach, I stagger back, hitting someone’s elbow who pushes me away like I’m a hindrance.

She’s one of the young women who were hanging off Shawn’s arm at Ophelia. All blonde and killer curves, she appeared unlike the first girl. Present and aware