A Desperate Marino

Killian

Niccolò Marino’s frustrated sigh cut through the room. I set my phone down, pressed a button, and put him on speaker.

“Do you realize how much money I just offered you for that whore?” Every word he spat was laced with venom.

“We’re not talking about just any whore, Niccolò.” I yawned loudly enough for him to hear it, even though anger flared inside me. The word whore left a bitter taste in my mouth. Sera was no whore, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing the full extent of my intentions toward her. “She is the only living child of Andre Bianchi.”

“So? We’re talking about a female, Ricci.”

I arched my brow and twisted in my chair. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree with this one. Riccardo Marino, Niccolò’s father, was the boss who hosted the auction every year. Though he treated his many personal dames like queens, he still didn’t see them as equal to men or else he wouldn’t buy and sell them the way he did.

To Riccardo, ending up as one of his women