FORBIDDEN CLUB

CHAPTER THREE: FORBIDDEN CLUB

Jane's POV:

I couldn't tell if I was going to puke or faint.

The women around me had either resigned themselves to their fate or they paced, and some of them silently cried. I couldn't imagine what they had been through. I could smell their sweat through the cheap perfume they used to cover it up. It was clear that some of the women hadn't bathed in days.

How could people treat other human beings this way?

I was tapping the heel of my stiletto nervously against the floor. How could my father do this to me?

Sure, he had taken me to a few of his client parties and asked me to be coy with the men, but this? He was selling me to a man that neither of us knew just to pay off his creditors.

Anger at my father threatened my sanity, making me want to attack the guard again, but I thought of Lorianne. She was so sweet and young and sensitive. She would never be able to get through a human auction and not be scarred for the rest of her life.

We were different, even though we were sisters born to the same parents. I could stick up for myself and I didn't get scared easily, but Lorianne was a gentle soul.

Father never took her out to parties or clubs, not because she's the younger sister, but because she's so sweet and delicate. She wouldn't survive in the world that our father lived in.

"Excuse me," a woman said to my right, so softly I barely heard her.

"Yes?" l asked. She had dark hair in a long braid and sad, dark brown eyes. My heart ached for her.

"You're very pretty, and your dress looks expensive," she said. "Are you being sold as a bride or as a slave?"

This type of conversation should never happen. The world could be a sick place sometimes. "A bride," I said, remembering my father's words that I would meet my husband. But, in reality, I didn't know. "I think I will be a bride," I added.

"If you are a virgin, then you can be sold as a bride," another woman said. "For a high price." She was standing close to the first woman. Her hair was a dirty blond, and she looked younger than me, maybe eighteen.

She was standing very close to the wall behind the other woman as if she had been listening but was too afraid to speak first.

"My father made sure I remained a virgin," I said. He never let me and Lorianne leave the house unless he was with us, and that was only when the occasion served him.

Often, he paraded his two pretty daughters around to show us off, but only I went with him to his parties.

When we weren't needed, we were sequestered at home, but of course, we were also given plenty to do as daughters of a wealthy businessman. We lived in a 15-bedroom, 18-bathroom mansion with tennis courts, an Olympic sized swimming pool, a massage room, a yoga studio, and a home movie theater. The old adage about not knowing what you have until it's gone was true.

"Your father is your owner? He brought you here to be sold?" The first woman asked me. I clenched my jaw, and unable to answer her I just nodded.

"You're lucky," the second woman said quietly. "Most of us are just sold as slaves. Sex slaves or mistresses if we're pretty enough or talented enough." I covered my mouth in horror as she continued to speak.

"Many of us have been here several times. They buy us and do whatever they want with us, and when they get bored of us they send us back. I have never seen anyone be sold as a bride, but I was told it does happen."

"I knew a girl who was sold as a bride once," the first woman said, "she was very young, only fourteen, and the man wanted a young wife. She was pretty and she was a virgin, so the man bought her as his bride. I think he paid nearly five hundred thousand dollars for her."

"Only five hundred thousand dollars?" I asked her.

The two women raised their brows in surprise. "That's more than we'll sell for as mistresses or slaves," the second woman said. "I only expect to be sold for a couple thousand since I've been bought and sold here before." She rubbed her upper arm in a self-comforting gesture, and I stifled a groan.

Five hundred thousand was a lot of money, but I needed to get more for my father.

"You don't understand, my father lost all his money," I said to the two women. "He used to be a millionaire, but somehow he lost it all and he owes people." They were silent as this information sank in. "I need to get him at least one million dollars, or he will bring my sister here, and l can't let that happen."

"I know you'll get a high price when it's your turn on The Block," the first woman said.

She was being sold as a sex slave and she was encouraging me. This was all just so wrong. "The men pay high prices for virgins, and you're-"

The door leading to the stage opened, and the women near the door flinched away. The guard approached the closest woman and stood over her at his full height, an intimidation tactic. "Was it you l just heard talking?" he asked her.

"No," the woman said in barely a whisper before he backhanded her across the face, knocking her into the wall. She cried out in pain.

"Keep your whore mouth shut," the guard said menacingly.

The woman next to me who had actually been talking took a step forward, but I held my arm out to stop her.

"It wasn't her talking," I said to the guard, and he turned to face me with a dark, dangerous expression. "It was me," I lied.

Those women had already been through so much. There was no way that I could save them, and I knew that, but I could do something to ease their pain and suffering.

The guard walked forward and stared me down. The tension in the room was palpable. Before I could react, his large hand flew up and across my face with such force that I lost my balance. The woman next to me was able to provide enough support so that I didn't fall flat on my a*s.

The guard tutted sarcastically. "You're damaged goods now," he said to me, leaning closer to my face, leveling his gaze with mine. "Now daddy is going to lose some money," he said with a grin.

My cheek stung badly as I found my footing to stand upright again, and when I touched my cheek, feeling the welt that had formed, I realized he had been wearing a ring on the hand he slapped me with.

I held his gaze, steeling myself for another blow. "You talk back to me again and I'll pump you full of drugs," the guard said. "You'll be out for days. That'll shut you up." He stood and turned to face the group of women. "That goes for all of you!"

He walked away from me and my body relaxed slightly. I gazed over at the woman who had been speaking to me and she looked angry. She shook her head at me slowly, disapproving of what I had done.

"Who's next on The Block?" the guard said, rubbing his hands together as he examined a few women near the door. They turned their gazes away from him as he passed. I was still touching my cheek where it had been damaged; the warm ridge of flesh stung uncomfortably. The guard spun around and pointed in my direction. "You," he said. "Get over here, you're next on The Block."

The woman next to me gently touched my arm in a comforting gesture before I made my way through the group of women who stared at me as I passed. When I got to the door leading to The Block, as they had been referring to it, the guard pulled the door open and pushed me out unceremoniously onto the brightly lit stage. I managed to maintain my balance, straightening my back and holding my head high.

"Go stand inside The Block," the guard demanded. In the center of the stage was a square that had been created with duct tape on the floor. I walked to the center of The Block and stood there, facing the crowd.

I couldn't see anyone because the lights were so bright, but I knew that they were there. The men who I had seen when I entered the building with my father were out there staring up at me.

I heard a low voice, someone speaking nearby but not loud enough for me to understand what he was saying. It was like being on the operating table under a bright light with the unintelligible voices of the doctors and nurses as you begin to succumb to the anesthesia.

I felt like I was going to be sick. I was sure my father was out there, waiting for his money, as the auction for my ownership began.