Page 6 of Auctioned to My Bratva Boss

The noisy hall went silent for a moment.

Then Boris jumped from his chair, face flushed. "Shit! Some idiot has the balls to take what's mine—"

He looked up toward the second floor. When he saw me, his cursing died in his throat. The arrogance drained from his face. His whole body started shaking. He ducked back into his seat, didn't dare make a sound.

"Five hundred thousand!" The auctioneer's excited voice rang out. "The highest bid of tonight's auction, from our most distinguished guest on the second floor!"

Every eye in the venue fixed on the second-floor booth. Including the girl's. She stared at me with wide eyes full of shock and relief, seemingly... with worship too?

Did she think I was her savior? Then she was too naive. She had no idea I was already imagining how I'd enjoy those sexy tits of hers tonight.

"Five hundred thousand once!"

"Five hundred thousand twice!"

"Five hundred thousand three times! Sold!"

No one else bid. The gavel fell as expected.

I hooked the corner of my lips at the girl and mouthed silently. "I got you."

She seemed stunned, staring at me blankly. Before the elevator carried her away, her pitiful gaze stayed locked on me.

"Boris is a small-time operator who popped up in the South District. Started with smuggling and pimping. Got a few guns and thinks he's somebody." Victor leaned close. "If he's in your way, I'll have my guys chop him up and dump him in the river."

"That's too easy."

My people would make this ignorant bastard understand what it meant to beg for life and be denied death.

"But I'm really glad there was merchandise here you liked." Victor didn't ask more, picked up his glass.

His man immediately stepped forward to refill mine.

"Consider it my good faith." His gaze returned to the stage. A new girl was already being pushed onto the platform. "I'll give you that girl. On the house."

"No need." I pulled out my checkbook. "She's mine. I pay for myself."

Victor stared at the check for a long time before tucking it into his jacket pocket.

"Bratva really spends freely." He drained his glass, smiling apologetically. "Guess you can spare my little profit too."

"Eight percent max," I stood. "Or you can go back and pay your taxes like a good citizen."

I usually didn't compromise on profits. But tonight was an exception.

Victor immediately stood, unable to suppress his smile.

"Deal! I'll prepare the contract right away! Matvey, I fucking found the right man!"

He waved his hand. His guy immediately jogged off.

Eight percent profit was naturally within my calculations, but this guy's grin made me uncomfortable—like he'd gotten some advantage.

Bottom line, if I didn't know how much profit he was making, I'd definitely be pointing a gun at his head asking if I'd asked for too little.

"That woman will be cleaned up and sent to your bed soon." Victor wore a lecherous expression. "I've reserved the top-floor suite for you. You'll love it."

Cleaned up? I thought she looked perfectly satisfying as she was. After all, my excited cock didn't lie.