Chapter 2 - The Auction Block
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Nora underestimated her father’s pragmatism. When she entered the waiting town car, the tinted partition between the rear cabin and the driver was already raised.
Richard poured a glass of Scotch from the built-in bar. Diane smoked beside him, the window cracked just enough to draw the gray smoke outside into the Chicago evening.
“The Romanos won’t take the contract now,” Richard stared into his drink, his voice cold. “Carmine wanted a grandson. He made that very clear.”
“We owe them three million dollars, Richard,” Diane exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. “If we don’t give them Nora, they take the docks. If they take the docks, we’re out on the street.”
“I understand the mathematics, Diane.”
Richard finally looked at Nora. His eyes were calculating.
“You kept information from us. You knew about the pain. You never told us it was this serious.”
“I told you when I was sixteen,” Nora’s voice remained steady. She had learned years earlier that tears were blood in the water. “You told me to take an Advil and stop complaining.”
“Don’t get smart.” Richard finished his Scotch. “You’re a defective asset, Nora. But you are still an asset. We simply have to change our marketing strategy.”
“Marketing?” Nora whispered, her stomach turning.
“There are men who don’t care about children,” Diane said, looking at her daughter like a damaged used car. “Men who want something pretty in their bed. Someone to host dinners. Someone who keeps her mouth shut. They won’t pay what the Romanos would have paid for a bloodline, but we can put enough together.”
Nora stared at them in horror.
“You’re going to auction me.”
May you like
“We’re going to broker an arrangement,” Richard corrected smoothly. “Tonight. At the Continental. Wear the black velvet dress. The one with the plunge.”
Nora was given exactly five hours to absorb the loss of her future. Five hours to put on makeup, strap herself into four-inch heels, and walk into a subterranean cigar lounge filled with the most dangerous men in the Midwest.
