Chapter 2 What Did You Do, Sister?

• Giovanni
• Axel reaches my table and clears his throat.
• I turn to him. He gestures to the girl to be brought forward.
• "Ms. Williams. Ciara's sister," he says, sounding almost bored.
• I shift my gaze to meet the girl's frightened one and all I can think for a moment is how her almond-shaped eyes match the color in my glass so perfectly.
• Whiskey eyes.
• Pretty. Very pretty.
• With smooth olive skin and hair so dark it's almost black.
• The photo I saw didn't do her justice.
• "Let her go. She's not going anywhere, are you, sweetheart?"
• When they release her, she brings the huge bag that was apparently on her shoulder in front of her.
• She's clutching it like armor between herself and me.
• "Get rid of that." I gesture with a quick nod of my head to the tote. I want to see the rest of her.
• When one of the men reaches to take it, she pulls back, hisses at him.
• I chuckle, sip from my glass, and watch, surprised to be entertained.
• In the background, I register the gavel coming down once. Twice.
• The number is making me very happy.
• When the bag is gone, revealing a cheap pale blue sweater that's frayed, which does hug her generous breasts so I can't complain. She looks back at me, her face flushed. She doesn't seem to know what to do with her hands but eventually closes her fingers over the back of the chair in front of her.
• At least she's not making a spectacle of herself. Not yet, anyway. Not that anyone here would help her if she made a run for it.
• “Sit.”
• "Are you Mr. Giovanni? I think there's been a mistake."
• Axel mutters a curse under his breath, takes her arm, pulls out the chair she's gripping and puts her in it.
• "That's better," I say.
• He stands to the side, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. His eyes narrow as he scans the crowd and they fall on one man in particular.
• I look at the man, make note of who it is.
• "Errand?" I ask him.
• He turns to me, gives me one brief nod.
• “I'll take care of this," I say to him. “Go."
• He looks at me. “You sure?"
• I glance at the pretty girl sitting stiffly across from me and give him a one-sided grin. “I don't think Ms. Williams will give me any trouble, will you?"
• She just stares at me.
• Axel chuckles. He makes his way through the crowd and it's like the parting of the sea as he approaches.
• Which is why he works for me. He's one mean son of a bitch. It's good to have him on my side.
• Makes a lot of things easier. Keeps leeches at bay.
• Now, there are only the two of us in the room. I take a sip of wine, my gaze tracing the tremble in her body.
• "This is a mistake." She pleads, "Please let me go, I don't know you. I don't know — ”
• “You'll get to know me,"
• “What?” she flushes, eyes huge and panicked. "Why do you take me here?" Her voice is a little higher.
• Without taking my eyes off her, I raise my hand and one of the servers comes over with an empty crystal tumbler. I pour whiskey into it, push it toward Sienna and think how much I like the sound of her name. It's soft and sexy and her lips are full, and I can smell the fear coming off her and fuck, I take a deep breath in because nothing — and I mean nothing — gets my dick hard as that sweet scent.
• "Drink, it'll calm your nerves." I say.
• Trembling hands come to the table, one moving to take the tumbler.
• I look at her. At thick lashes concealing those pretty eyes from me. A lock of wavy, dark hair falls out of its messy bun on the top of her head. She tucks it behind her ear as she brings the glass to her nose and sniffs.
• She takes a cautious sip.
• She looks at me, then at the room full of men. The only women are those serving them and the one she just saw on the auction block.
• "Why am I here?"
• “Because your sister is out of commission and she owes me a good deal of money. You know her, she's never been very reliable."
• “But I don't have a sister!”
• "Come, now. Ciara Williams."
• Her face loses a little of its color. "Ciara?"
• She gives a shake of her head, straightens her spine. "I haven't spoken with Ciara in years. We don't keep in touch. And she's technically not my sister." She pauses and a crease forms between her eyebrows.
• "Is she...is she in town?"
• The question surprises me, but I know people. They lie. Anything to get away with shit they have no business getting away with.
• I notice the sheen of sweat collected on her forehead.
• “Yes. Seems she was beaten."
• "Beaten?" She looks truly caught off guard. “Is she okay?"
• “She'll be fine. Recovering at the hospital."
• "Did you beat her up?"
• “I won't dignify that question with a response. I don't beat women.”
• "Who did then?"
• I sip my drink and study her, not bothering to reply, “You don't look much like each other."
• Sienna's olive skin and dark hair are opposite Ciara's ruddy complexion and reddish hair. It makes me think Italian. Maybe middle-eastern?
• "I told you, we're technically not sisters," she says with a touch more irritation in her voice than I like. “I was fostered in the Williams home. We're not related."
• "Blood or fostered or adopted, I don't care."
• I hope she doesn't think the fact that they're not related by blood means she's off the hook.
• Because if she thinks that, then she's in for the surprise of her life.
• “How much does she owe you?"
• "A quarter of a million dollars."
• Her mouth falls open.
• "Ciara has a gambling addiction," I say. “And, as it turns out, a drug addiction too."
• She's quiet for a long moment and her eyes narrow before she speaks. “But that is much money. Are you sure? I mean...that's a lot of money."
• I lean forward and she draws back. A quarter-of-a-million dollars isn't much to me, but her reaction amused me.
• She flushes, at a loss for a moment. “You're a loan shark," she finally says.
• I shrug a shoulder. “I'm many things, first and foremost, the owner and CEO of Giovanni Enterprises, an employer of several thousand people, a lawful, tax-paying business-man with many friends."
• From the look on her face, she understands what I'm saying.
• "If you think that I can pay you that kind of money, you're mistaken," she says. “I don't have anything close to that.”
• "Obviously, I didn't expect Ciara to pay me back in cash. We had a different sort of arrangement that suited both of our needs.”
• Her forehead creases, “I don't understand what you want from me.”
• The gong sounds as if on cue and Sienna turns to look over the quieting crowd of men.
• I follow her gaze to where the curtains part to reveal the next beauty, this one a full-figured red-head.
• I turn back to my guest, watch her in profile. I study her pretty little upturned nose, the high forehead, full lips that part slightly as she takes in the attraction on the stage.
• “What is this?” she asks.
• "An auction."
• She looks at me with an expression of shock and utter disbelief on her face.
• "So these men, they're bidding on...her?"
• I nod.
• She turns back to watch the girl who is ceremoniously disrobed, and I'm surprised to see she's a natural red-head. So rare these days.
• The auctioneer calls out the opening number.
• Sienna’s big eyes are filling up with tears and those tears seem to make them go a soft caramel and all I can think is I bet she's pretty when she cries.
• “Why am I here?" she finally asks me, voice higher again.
• "Have you figured out what our arrangement was? What Ciara agreed to sell to repay me?"