"Well, the more they like you, the better, son. I have spoken with my contacts. The transaction is legit. However, all you do tonight is make bid. There is nothing more until the seller contacts the bidder he is most interested in doing business with after checking all of his references."
"So after this, we wait?"
"In just awhile, they'll ask you for your bid. You type it into computer, confirm it with liaison, and then you enjoy the rest of night. We are not foot soldiers. We have done what we have come to do. After they have made their decision, they will contact you. So, don't be surprised if you hear from them in the morning, or you never hear from them again."
Anatoly sighed. "So cut and dry."
"We are not men who like our time to be wasted. This process has been perfected over time to ensure confidentially and efficiency."
"So what's with you? Besides this, what is going on in that very complicated brain of yours?"
Dmitry sighed. "I want to go home. After you make bid, I've arranged for my jet to be fueled, and I fly out of here. You should stay and get to know the men."
"Did something happen?"
"Yes," Dmitry smiled and turned toward his son. "She's coming around."
"It took long enough." He sat back in his seat more relaxed. Of course, it had to be about Royal. It was all the man ever thought of anymore. Royal. Anya. Royal.
"It took time that it needed," Dmitry said, shaking his head. "You are so young. Women don't come around when you want them to; they come around when it's time."
"For me, women cum when I've worked hard enough," Anatoly grinned.
"Are you being safe, Casa Nova?" Dmitry's blue eyes narrowed.
"Yes. Of course. I don't want to get package," Anatoly grinned, mirroring the same hauntingly beautiful looks.
Dmitry shook his head. His dimples showed. "I remember time when I was just like you. Be careful, eh. There is only so much Anatoly to go around."
The crowd silenced suddenly, and a tall blonde woman in a tailored black suit walked out with a computer. She placed it carefully on the table and typed in a password.
"Gentlemen, we are ready to begin bids," she said in a Russian accent.
"Like clockwork," Dmitry whispered.
* * *
Royal checked on Anya once last time before she headed to her room. In a flash of heat, she felt her vision began to blur. For the life of her, she didn't understand why. She had after all not had a drink or taken any valium today. She had promised Dmitry. And she wanted to do better for the prospect of a better life with the family that she owed everything. Still, she felt confused, high and jittery.
Going into her bedroom, she closed the door and watched her hand slide down the door. There were four hands instead of one.
Lying down on the bed, she looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes. She had gotten high once in junior high. The strange feeling she was experiences now, felt mildly like it, only stronger.
Biting her lip, she ran her fingers down her blouse and pulled it up off her skin. She had to get out of these clothes, had to get out of her skin.
She ran her fingers down her burning body and sighed as the hard nails dug into her flesh. Ahh. That felt… good.
She sat up quickly. Something was wrong. Maybe she was having withdrawal from being clean for a day—valium, no alcohol. No. She shook her head at the thought. This was something else. The lights seemed to shine directly into her eyes, blinding her.
Getting off the bed, she went and turned off the light. In the darkness, she stood half-dressed and afraid. Something was happening to her.
Her heart raced. Her skin crawled. The room spun so fast until she had to close her eyes to make it stop. Placing her hands on her ears, she took deep breaths. Calm down! she commanded herself. But the confusion had taken on a life of its own.
Desperate she ran into closet, hitting her shoulder on the door and falling down on the floor. She looked up at the light disoriented. Pulling herself up off the ground, she went to her drawer and pulled out a hidden bottle of vodka.
She just needed something to calm down. Opening the bottle, she turned it up and drank it quickly. Wiping her mouth, she laid back down on the ground and took a deep breath. That wasn’t smart, she thought to herself as the room began to spin.
Tears ran down her face. Why she didn't know, but suddenly, she could see Ivan. She could feel him on her skin.
"No," she said breathing hard.
"No… no… .no!" She pulled her skirt, ripping it as she did so. Was she hallucinating? She could smell his cologne, hear his deep, baritone voice, feel him. "No!" she screamed. "IVAN!"
Her anxiety escalated within seconds and she found herself nearly hyperventilating in the closet, where no one could hear her or save her from herself. Holding herself tight, she rocked in the closet, nearly naked and screaming.
Chapter 8
Dmitry couldn't wait. The urgency in his chest would no longer let him. He urged the men to dock, and he left nearly in a run back to the hotel. He had tried to call Royal several times on her personal cell, yet no one answered. She always answered. He ran up to his room, grabbed his laptop and left his clothes. A car was waiting for him at the steps of the hotel. He jumped in and had the chauffeur hightail it to the airport. Within thirty minutes, he was on his jet.
The flight had been less
