Page 35 of Temporary Vows

“You, old friend,”—he points at me—“need to relax. We will get to the bottom of this. Until then, you need to loosen some of that tension.”

“And what would you suggest,old friend?”

He gestures with his chin. “The auction’s on tonight.”

The Decadent Auction. A ritual dressed up as luxury—girls on a platform paraded under a spotlight while men with too much money bid like they’re buying art. The whole thing is sanitized with rules and velvet so nobody has to admit what it really is: ownership and claiming.

“Why don’t you get a girl, take the rest of the week off, and have some fun?” He says it casually, like a joke that isn’t a joke. “Relieve some stress.”

I stare at him, unimpressed. “It’s going to take more than a girl to relieve my stress,” I scoff. “And I’m not here for entertainment. Also, haven’t I given you enough of my money?”

“You can afford to give more,Dorian Vale. All work and no play is never good for a man.”

“Coming from a man whose workishis playground.”

He shakes his head. “No, no, no. My wife, Mimi Giordano, is my playground.” He taps his heart. “This is just a place I’ve created to step away from the real world, but my wife is my sanctuary.”

These men and their wives. It feels like everywhere I turn, there’s someone reminding me that marriage isn’t all bad. Salvatore didn’t exactly say that, but he didn’t need to.

He and his wife have been married for ten years, and they met when they were kids.

Good story. It still doesn’t sway me, though.

Salvatore lifts a brow and straightens. “I’ll tell you what. We’re done here. Let’s walk by the auction hall. If you see a girl you like, I’ll cap the bid to what I think is reasonable.”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“Italian blood runs through your veins, too, mio amico.” He winks. “You answer that question for me.”

The answer is no. He’s not going to take no for an answer.

“Fine, let’s go.” I just won’t bid.

Salvatore rises with the smile of a devil on his face. “Let’s go.”

I stand and follow him.

He leads me down a private corridor that fills with the club music the moment we walk out. Then we step onto the balcony, where a sea of bodies are dancing below and having sex.

I remember when I first came here and saw it all. I got up to all kinds of hell in college, but even I was shocked.

Salvatore walks along like all the sex that’s happening is nothing.

We pass the club floor, and the music fades as we verge into the hall where the auction is taking place.

A sea of men in tailored suits gathers around a stage washed in gold light with a podium in the center. The air hums with anticipation and hunger carefully dressed up as entertainment.

Salvatore stops by the railing and glances at me. “I hope you find someone to your liking.”

I don’t answer. I’m already calculating how quickly I can leave.

It looks like we’ve arrived between sales. The stage is empty. The host steps back to the center, microphone in hand, and announces the next girl.

“Gentlemen,” he purrs, letting the word stretch. “Our next offering tonight is quite a sweet delight.”

A ripple of excitement moves through the crowd below.

“Introducing… Elodie Harper.”