Page 131 of Obey

Either way, he gets something. The question is, what are we willing to lose?

I look at my men, my partners.

For the first time tonight, all three of us are out of moves.

Our gazes meet across the room, Jace’s sharp, Elias’s steady. A decision passes between us, silent and absolute. If the bidding doesn’t end, we end it.

I lower my paddle and make my way to the stage. I don’t bother with the auctioneer’s patter as I reach up and take the microphone from him. “One hundred and fifty million.”

Silence hits like gunfire. You can feel the room's hinges creak as heads swivel. The man blinks in shock before wiping his forehead with his handkerchief.

“Mr. Blackwell, with all due respect,” the auctioneer stammers, “that's not how this works. We have a process—”

“Then I suggest you adjust it.”

The auctioneer swallows. “Sir, I don't have the authority to—”

“Then find someone who does.” I straighten my cuffs, giving him a moment to consider his next move. “I'm offering one hundred and fifty million dollars. Cash. If your organization would prefer to explain to its donors why it turned down that kind of money, I'm sure the press would be fascinated.”

His eyes dart toward someone offstage.

“Or,” I continue, lowering my voice, “you can accept my bid, thank me for my generosity, and we can all pretend this was a perfectly pleasant evening.”

No one moves.

“Your choice. But I suggest you make the right one.” I hold his stare. “Think of the children.”

“Nate,” Sloane gasps, staring at me like I've lost my goddamn mind.

The auctioneer glances offstage, waiting for direction. A moment later, his earpiece crackles, and he reaches for the gavel.

“Sold! To Mr. Nathaniel Blackwell for one hundred and fifty million dollars.”

The gavel comes down.

Adrian remains where he is, watching me with an expression I know too well. He's impressed. The bastard actually looks impressed.

I extend my hand toward Sloane, and she grabs it without hesitation. I help her down the steps, keeping her close as reporters immediately converge on us.

Elias and Jace reach us before anyone can get near her. Jace wraps an arm around Sloane's shoulders while Elias clears a path toward the exit. We ignore the questions and cameras, heading straight for the valet.

By the time the car arrives, Sloane is trembling. She hasn't said a word since we left the ballroom, and I can feel how tightly she's holding herself together.

I open the door and help her inside. Jace and Elias follow, and I climb in last.

Elias is already scrolling through the information he collected from the event staff.

“You all right, Sugar?” Jace asks.

“I'm fine.” Then she shakes her head almost immediately. “No. What the hell just happened?”

Jace exhales. “Someone tried to sell you like a fucking thoroughbred at the Kentucky Derby, and Nate just spent more money than God.”

Sloane stares at her hands and then swallows. “Why would someone do that?”

None of us has an answer.

Nate is moving before the elevator doors finish opening. He heads straight for his study, already on his phone. Someone engineered tonight, and he won't sleep until he knows who.