to invest. With the market tanking, this is the perfect time to build it back up.
Mr. Knapp stops me as I cross the room. A short man who looks perpetually angry. I think he tries to look pleased to see me, but it only comes off as a grimace. “Mr. Kidwell. We’re honored to have you here at Malaking Kuta. After our many invitations to Gabriel Miller, we thought he would never attend.”
I offer a bland smile. “Your persistence paid off.”
“And I’m certain you will be most pleased with the luxuries we have to offer. You must have seen your private cabin. Was it to your liking?”
The porch had been bigger than my first apartment when I moved to Tanglewood. Only feet away from the lapping blue water. Blinding white sand. It would have been an oasis to someone on vacation. For me it held the same appeal as a dimly lit hotel room—a place to rest between making deals.
I’ll meet with Jade Changueng and Anand Shah and the Wilson couple. I’ll see if anyone else on the island is worth doing business with, and tomorrow, I’ll fly back to Tanglewood.
“It was satisfactory,” I tell Mr. Knapp.
He frowns. “No no, we want to do better than that. We wish to please you. That’s the purpose of Malaking Kuta—pleasure in all its forms. Would you like a woman sent to warm your bed tonight?”
The sexual daring of the island makes it legendary. If I want a woman, I’ll find her myself, among the bejeweled women sprinkling the crowd. Maybe it will be Jade Changueng, whose talents have distracted me for an hour or two before. “No, thank you.”
“Perhaps a man?” He gives a sneaky laugh. “Or both? Don’t worry if you have certain predilections. Our entertainment is well versed in the sexual arts. And tolerant. Very tolerant.”
Hell, he’s practically inviting me to beat them. “No.”
He brushes off my refusal with a pudgy hand. “They are too pedestrian for you, these practiced people. We have something much more interesting tonight for a man of your refined tastes.”
Christ. I keep thinking he’s going to run out of illicit things to offer. “Such as?”
“Fresh meat.”
A little flare of heat in my veins. That is interesting, but it shouldn’t be. Nothing matters except signing on the bottom line. Follow the dream. Find the people who will change the world. Give them enough money to do it and then reap the profits afterward. “Fresh meat.”
“We’re having an auction. Three specimens. All of them new to the island. All of them untrained.”
Jesus. The idea of initiating someone into sexual bondage, of that shiver of uncertainty, even fear—it shouldn’t be so appealing. I’ve fought for years to get rid of the desire. Only in the dark, alone, do I admit my wish to control someone. To own them. “I’m not sure I’ll attend. There’s work to do.”
“You must. You must. Everyone else will be there. No one will miss it.”
No, I doubt the people I want to deal with will miss the auction if it’s the entertainment of the evening. There’s a reason those people only emerge to this island—to sate their sexual appetites. Which means I’ll have to go along with it. I’ll have to watch someone be placed on an auction block, touched and examined, sold to the highest bidder. Lust rages inside me at the thought, but I force it down.
When I left Detroit, I took a job as a clerk under Gabriel Miller. It was beneath me. My brother sure as hell never would have done something so demeaning. But I knew it would be the start of something new. He taught me everything I know about business. I worked my way up and now I get a percentage of the deals I ink. A thick bank account pays for a penthouse apartment that’s empty while I work long hours. It’s not a warm life, but it’s a lucrative one.
I give a short bow. “Then I’ll see you tonight, Mr. Knapp.”
He smiles, and my blood turns cold. It’s not a nice smile. “One more thing.”
“I would prefer to rest before the evening entertainment.”
“There’s someone else I want you to meet. I’m sure you’ll agree once you see them.”
Keep a cool head. That’s the first thing Gabriel taught me when I was young and stupid. Full of anger at my brother. Full of unfulfilled desire for his girlfriend. That’s the only reason I don’t punch this fucker and his obsequious smile. Rule number one: keep