Unraveled Control

Chapter 4 Sold to the Highest Bidder

The lights dim, and a dipshit auctioneer steps onto the stage. He's got a mustache that curls up at the ends, black gelled hair that looks more like a helmet, and a bright red tuxedo. Everyone goes quiet.

"Welcome to the Taggart auction house," he announces, his voice dripping with sleaze. "All these women are up for sale and will go to the top bidder. We have many virgins and young ones for our special guests who love that taste."

I see these f*****g perverts licking their lips. Disgust churns in my stomach as I light up another joint. I swear I'm surrounded by the scum of the earth right now. The auctioneer continues, "We even have a special gem for this show, never done before. We are auctioning off the Scottish Mafia King’s own daughter."

Everyone starts whispering, and I try my best to hide my disgust. I'm undercover. Keep your cool. How the f**k could someone sell their own blood?

"Please raise your number if you see what you like," the auctioneer says. "The top bidder will get his prize. After you win, you must pay immediately by wire or cash only. Let the auction begin."

The first girl comes out, wearing a simple white dress that seems almost innocent in this grim setting. Some of the men whistle, and others cheer, making my skin crawl. She’s sold quickly, her fate decided by the highest bidder in just a few moments. Then, more women follow, paraded across the stage one by one like merchandise. Each sale fuels the anger burning inside me, my blood boiling with every transaction.

Selling women? I don’t give a f**k if they do or not. I know it’s the mafia way—something deeply ingrained in this twisted world of power and control. But selling little girls? That’s a whole new level of depravity. It’s f*****g sick! Anyone who buys a young girl deserves to be murdered on the spot, no questions asked.

I clench my fists so tightly my knuckles turn white, trying to maintain a calm facade. The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself in this room full of predators. Each woman who steps onto that stage looks more terrified than the last, their eyes wide with fear, their bodies trembling as if they might shatter at any moment. I take another drag from my joint, hoping the smoke will somehow numb the rage coursing through my veins, but it does little to calm me.

The atmosphere grows heavier with each sale, a toxic mix of greed and lechery hanging thick in the air. The men in the room whisper and jeer, their eyes hungry and predatory, turning my stomach. I force myself to keep watching, even though every part of me wants to look away, to pretend this isn’t happening.

Then more women come out, one by one, getting sold to the highest bidder. I raise my number a few times but let the others outbid me. Each time I do, it feels like a small victory, keeping me under the radar.

Then the young ones come out. The first girl, barely fourteen, steps onto the stage, shaking and crying. The auctioneer's voice booms, "Fourteen-year-old virgin." My stomach churns, and I struggle to keep my cool, fighting the urge to vomit. The room erupts into chaos, with bids flying fast and furious. Men are shouting over each other, their faces twisted with grotesque eagerness, each desperate to claim her.

The bidding escalates rapidly, a mad frenzy of lecherous greed. My heart pounds in my chest as I watch the horror unfold, feeling utterly helpless. The sight of the terrified girl, barely old enough to comprehend the full extent of her fate, being sold to the highest bidder is almost too much to bear.

I grip the armrest of my chair, my knuckles white with the effort to stay calm. The room is a cacophony of shouted numbers and jeering laughter, the air thick with desperation and depravity. I glance around, my eyes meeting those of the other girls waiting their turn, their faces pale with fear.

Two more girls are brought out, one fifteen and the other sixteen. Their eyes are wide with terror, tears streaming down their cheeks. The auctioneer's announcement of their ages sends another wave of bidding hysteria through the crowd. It's like a madhouse, with men scrambling to outbid each other, their twisted desires on full display.

Maisie

I swallow hard, trying to steady my breathing, but the sight of these young girls, so vulnerable and scared, being sold to these monsters is almost more than I can take. I know that soon, I’ll be the one on that stage, facing the same horrifying fate.

I watch as another girl is dragged onto the stage, her small frame trembling with fear. She can’t be more than fourteen, her wide eyes darting around the room like a trapped animal. Her hair is matted, her cheeks streaked with tears, and she looks so fragile, like she could shatter at any moment. The crowd quiets for a moment, taking in the sight of her, before the announcer’s voice booms through the room, dripping with perverse delight.

“Gentlemen, feast your eyes on our next offering. A tender young beauty, only fourteen years old! Untouched, pure, and ready to be molded into whatever you desire. She’s the perfect blank canvas for all your darkest fantasies.” The words make my skin crawl, my stomach twisting into knots as I see the men in the crowd lean forward, their eyes gleaming with sick anticipation.

The bidding starts, and it’s vicious. The men shout over each other, their voices filled with greed as the numbers climb higher and higher. The girl stands there, shaking like a leaf, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. I can see her lips moving, whispering something under her breath—maybe a prayer, maybe a plea for mercy. But mercy is a foreign concept in this place. There’s no kindness, no compassion, only cold, hard transactions.

“Thirty thousand!” one man bellows, and the room erupts with applause, as if this is some kind of twisted celebration. The girl flinches at the sound, her whole body jerking as if she’s been struck. She’s barely holding it together, barely keeping herself upright. I want to reach out to her, to tell her she’s not alone, but I can’t. I’m frozen in place, watching helplessly as her fate is sealed.

The bidding war ends, and the girl is sold to a man in the front row, his expression a grotesque mix of triumph and lust. He smiles, a sick, twisted grin that makes my blood run cold. The girl is dragged off the stage, her feet barely touching the ground as she’s pulled away, her sobs echoing in my ears long after she’s gone.

Then it's my turn. I walk onto the stage with my head held high. I don’t know what will happen to me, but I will keep my dignity as long as possible.

The announcer's voice booms, dripping with perverse excitement, "Now for our grand finale: here is Maisie Taggart, the Scottish Mafia King's daughter. Maisie is 18 years old and a certified virgin. Imagine being able to f**k the Mafia King's daughter. When you buy her, you buy her for good, not just one night. She will be yours to do whatever you please with no repercussions from the Taggart family house."

All the men start whistling and hollering, their lecherous eyes on me. The lights are so bright, it's hard to see anyone in the crowd. My heart pounds in my chest, and I feel exposed under the harsh glare. Then I hear the bids start coming in, each one higher than the last, different men’s voices blending into a horrifying chorus.

"Ten thousand!"

"Fifteen thousand!"

"Twenty thousand!"

The numbers keep climbing, and I feel like I’m in a nightmare I can’t wake up from. My mind races, trying to grasp some shred of hope or plan. But the reality is suffocating. I am being sold, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The room feels like it’s closing in, the air thick with the stench of sweat and desperation.

"Thirty thousand!"

"Forty thousand!"

The bids keep coming, and I force myself to focus and breathe. But for now, all I can do is stand here, a pawn in their sick game, and hope that somehow, someway, I will find a way out of this hell.

The room is a blur of leering faces and flashing numbers. Each shout, each bid is a reminder of how trapped I am. The reality of my situation presses down on me, but I won't let them see me break. I lift my chin, staring defiantly into the blinding lights. If this is my fate, I will face it head-on, with every ounce of strength I have left.

"Fifty thousand!"

"Sixty thousand!"

The bidding war intensifies, the men becoming more frenzied. My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming, my nails digging into my palms.

"Seventy thousand!"

"Eighty thousand!"

With each bid, my hope dwindles. The reality of being owned, used, and discarded by one of these monsters becomes more real. But I force myself to stand tall. If they’re going to take everything from me, I won’t give them my spirit without a fight.

Arlo

Then Maisie Taggart gets on the stage. She is beautiful, with medium brown hair that has copper streaks and big blue eyes. I can’t keep my eyes off her. I have never seen a woman so beautiful in my life. You can tell she is nervous, but she stands there with courage. I have respect for this woman.

An idea sparks in my mind. I lift up my number, bidding higher and higher. I am competing against a lot of men, but I will win this one. The thrill of the bidding takes over, and my number keeps going up. f**k it. I then yell, “Half a million!”

Everyone stops bidding except one man. This man is huge, a ball of fat with two other girls he has bought on their knees beside him. He then says, “One million.”

“I then say, “One and a half million!” and he goes quiet. Everyone just gasps.

The auctioneer says, “The winner is 146.” They start bringing her to me, and the same woman in lingerie who greeted me says, “How will you be paying, sir?”

“I will wire the funds,” I reply. I then get into my account and wire the funds, making sure to say it’s from J. S. so they can’t track me back. The woman in lingerie checks her system.

“Sir, your funds have come through. I hope you enjoy your new toy.”

The auctioneer announces the auction is over. I grab Maisie by the arm, tighter than necessary, and tell her to follow me.

Then her brother Darren comes up to me. “Congratulations on winning my sister.”

I remember I need to keep my identity hidden. “Thank you. It will be another to add to my collection.” He gives a sick smile.

He puts his hand out to shake, and I shake it. “I am Darren Taggart, and you are?”

I look at him. “You can call me J.S.”

He looks at me with curiosity. “Well, Darren, I must be going. I hope to attend your next auction.”

He smiles. “Oh, the next one will have even more girls and more underage.”

I smile back. “That sounds perfect.” In my mind, I keep thinking of every way I want to kill this bastard. I then walk out with Maisie in my grip.

“Get in my car, now,” I command, my tone leaving no room for argument. I unlock the Lamborghini. She gets in, her movements hesitant but compliant.

As I slide into the driver’s seat and rev the engine, I glance at her. “Listen up,” I snap. “You’re mine now. You do what I say, when I say it. Got it?”

Her eyes are wide with fear and uncertainty, but she nods.

“We’re getting out of here,” I say, my voice cold. “And don’t think about trying anything stupid. I spent a lot of money on you, and I won’t hesitate to remind you of that if you step out of line.”

The tension between us is palpable, but I don’t have time to reassure her now. We need to get the hell out of here. The Lamborghini roars to life, and we speed away from that hellhole. I keep my eyes on the road, but I can feel her gaze on me, a mix of fear and confusion.

"Just sit there and be quiet," I bark, my voice sharp and commanding. "You're safe for now, but don't push your luck." Establishing the rules right from the start is crucial—if I set the boundaries clearly now, she won't dare to cross them later.

I then call my number two, Camden. "Hey boss, what’s up?"

"Camden, I’ll be home in an hour. Get a marriage certificate ready and someone to officiate it to make it legal. Also, get a doctor so I can add a tracker in someone."

Camden pauses. "What the f**k are you doing, Arlo?"

I hang up without answering. I glance over and see Maisie shaking in fear. Good. She needs to understand her place. I need to be somewhat of an ass to her so she’ll obey. It’s not like I’m going to hurt the girl, but she has to know she’s my property now. This is the only way I can get out of this stupid marriage and take back control of my life. My parents said get a wife in one month, so I did. She’s perfect—she’ll obey and leave me the f**k alone.

"Stop shaking," I snap at her. "It’s not going to help you. You’re mine now, and you better get used to it. You do what I say, when I say it. Understand?"

She nods, her eyes filled with terror.

"Good," I say, my voice icy. "I don’t have time for your fears. You’re going to marry me, and then you’re going to stay out of my f*****g way. You do that, and we’ll get along just fine."

We drive in silence, the tension thick. The Lamborghini speeds through the night, the roar of the engine the only sound. I keep my eyes on the road, but I can feel her trembling beside me.

"Look," I finally say, my tone softer but still firm. "I’m not going to hurt you. But you have to understand your place. Do that, and we’ll be fine. Step out of line, and you’ll regret it."

The fear in her eyes doesn’t fade, but she nods again, more firmly this time.

"Good," I repeat. "We’ll be home soon. Do as I say, and this will go smoothly. You’re mine now, Maisie. Don’t forget that."

We pull up to my house, the gates opening automatically. Camden is waiting at the door, a look of concern on his face. I step out of the car and pull Maisie out with me, gripping her arm firmly.

"Welcome to your new life," I say, leading her inside. "Remember what I said, and we’ll get along just fine. Oh and my name is Arlo.”