Page 6 of The Knight (Endgame 2)
I know my next step needs to be visiting Uncle Landon. He’s been the administrator for my trust ever since my mother died. And he told me the house was safe. But the last time I saw him was at the auction, when he called me a whore. When he told me I’d disgraced my mother’s memory.
Deep breath. “Is there any way to stop the auction? What if I can pay the debt owed?”
Gabriel Miller paid one million dollars for my virginity. He put the money into escrow after the auction, but I can only collect it after a month. That means in two weeks I could pay the taxes and whatever else.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. An auction is the only way it can leave our possession, due to the strict regulations that define our role as a holding company.”
I bite my lip. “Could I bid on the house?”
“You could,” she says slowly.
“How much will it go for?”
“The bidding will start at a nominal two hundred thousand dollars. How far it goes after that…” Her slender shoulder lifts. “The house is worth several million dollars on the regular market, but in an auction houses are often sold for a fraction of their worth.”
A fraction, like one million dollars? Because that’s all I have. “When is the auction?”
She hesitates. “That’s why I’ve been calling you.”
I couldn’t afford my cell phone anymore. “Why?”
“The auction is in two days.”
Definitely falling. “No. I can’t have the money by then. Why is it so soon?”
“Auctions are usually conducted with reasonable speed, so the debts are paid quickly and interest doesn’t grow.”
“Two days!” God, the trial and judgment for my father’s case took six months.
Her pretty brown eyes don’t meet mine. “Your case has been especially fast.”
Heat stings my eyes, but I refuse to cry in front of her. My hands tighten into fists, fighting the wave of emotion. “Is there any way to delay the auction?”
“You could file for an extension,” she says slowly. “A lawyer could help you do that. But…”
A low voice comes from behind me. “But no judge in this city will grant the motion.”
I jump to my feet and turn around, facing Gabriel Miller for the first time since he took my virginity. I had been naked that night, skin pale, a streak of red on the sheet. For all that I had been vulnerable then, I’d also worn makeup. And I had known what I was there to do, what he’d paid me to do.
My jeans and Smith College T-shirt cover me now—small comfort when I feel like a child.
“You,” I say, voice shaking.
“You,” he repeats, his mocking tone ringing through my bones. “Who else would be in my office?”
Charlotte hops off the desk. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure you have plenty to discuss.”
“Thank you, Ms. Thomas,” Gabriel says, an undercurrent of danger threading the words.
Wide brown eyes meet mine briefly—and I’m not sure what message she’s sending. Caution? Hope? It looks like she wasn’t supposed to bring me to his office. Part of me wants to thank her. The other part of me wonders if I haven’t just wandered between the jaws of a lion.
Then she’s gone, and it’s only the two of us in the dark cavernous space.
Gabriel stands in the shadows, a tall and looming presence. I can’t see his face clearly, but his presence wraps around me like a hard embrace. And his gaze—God, I feel it like lava pouring down my body. A heavy heartbeat starts up, a rhythm that he drove into me, thrust after thrust, a visceral memory I’m not sure I’ll ever quite shake.
“You stole my house,” I say, my voice echoing in the wide office.
He prowls closer, light stretching over his face. And I’m shocked anew at the metallic glint to his pale brown eyes, the way they seem to glow with some incipient earthly heat. “Miller Industries took possession of the house at the request of the court. Surely you don’t think I’m responsible for the entire judicial system.”
His dry tone makes me want to scream. Of course he orchestrated this. “I’m going to get that extension. I’ll hire a lawyer—”
“And how will you pay the retainer?” he asks, all solicitousness.
We both know I can’t touch the escrow account until after the auction. “You’re a horrible person.”
“I’m paying for your father’s medical care. I would have thought you’d be grateful.”
“Grateful? He only needs it because of you!”
The accusation isn’t entirely fair. Gabriel set into motion my father’s downfall, which resulted in a plea deal for information. The men my father ratted out retaliated by beating him almost to death. He’s been bedridden ever since.
Of course Gabriel only did that because my father cheated him.
He wanders closer, examining me from the side, forcing me to turn and face him. “I meant what I said before,” he says softly. “No judge would grant the motion.”
