Grey Rose

Prelude - 1

- Rose -

Fuck him.

Who?

Obviously, Quinton Hale, the dickhead.

CEO of Hale Enterprises.

My enemy.

The bastard of Vladimir Grey, the Mafia King.

He's been so annoying, only picking Tapshaw Industries because I'm the CEO, I'm his ex-girlfriend, and I'm a girl. He's insane. I dumped his not-so-sorry ass because that douche was draining my money from my bank account! Like, what the hell?

And now he's crashing my stock market. Damn him!

And now, he's at the doorstep of my HQ.

"Hi Rose, what's up," he sings casually, inviting himself to sit on my gray sofa. "Anything new? Anything I need to know?"

"Bitch." I mutter under my breath and plaster a smile on my face. "Very nice of you to drop in, Quin, but you're not welcome here."

"Oh, and is that right? I thought you loved me being here and always begged for me to bury by cock into you," Quinton intones, a smile gracing his cold face, frosty gray eyes sparkling with humor.

I redden. "Ok, but still, I don't want you here. After you crash my stocks you want to make amends? Tsk, tsk. You're wrong to make that move."

"Oh, kitten, you know I didn't do it on purpose."

I roll my eyes, staring him down. Gray versus blue. "Right, and now no one comes to us. Literally every house that is sold these days is under your name, Hale."

He grins like a Cheshire Cat. "Kitten, that's because I'm better!"

Fucking hell, he has an ego the size of an elephant!

Our banter ends with a brisk two taps on my door.

"Yes, come in," I call.

Celeste, my personal assistant, waddles in, whispering, "Rose, Kane is outside waiting for you. He wants an answer and will see you even if it means breaking in."

Fuck, another of Grey's sons?

I heave a great big sigh. Damn Grey for having ten million sons in ten million different mafias that only existed to spite me. They came from everywhere - here in America, Italy, Mexico, Russia, Korea, Spain, and so many others, which just made them Greys so annoying. Especially Kane and Andrew Grey. They were horrendous. So horrendously handsome yet so horrendously bitchy.

"Let him in," I groan, running a hand through my long, dirty blonde hair.

Celeste goes scuttling out to invite Kane Grey in.

Quinton pouts. "I come to visit my girlfriend and my brother comes to ruin the day? So annoying." He runs his tongue over his lower lip, grinning wider as I can only stare and bite my own lip.

Moments later, Kane Grey, that monster, comes strolling in with Celeste at his side.

He walks up to me. "So, Rose, you ever going to pay me my 10 grand?"

Rot in hell, pig. Never.

Quinton's gray eyes perk up in interest. "Hmm."

I put my hands on my hips. "You know fucking well, Kane motherfuckin' Grey that I don't owe you any damn money. Ask Quin for it if you must. Or if you really want the culprit go ask Claire Merola. She's at 52 Holly Street."

Kane grabs my jaw. "Sweetheart, you better return it ASAP. Or else who knows what I'll do to you. I might be even better in bed than old Quinny was. And I may make you so sore that you can't sit anymore."

And he leaves, slamming the door.

+

I pick up a tequila from the tray that the lady offers me and take a sip. It's delicious.

It was like a normal masquerade ball. No auctioning of ladies, no signs of a brothel, nothing like it. Just. A. Normal. Masquerade. Ball. Thank heavens. Last time I was a masquerade that the Lim Mafia held I was so drunk that I accidentally stabbed Seojun Lim with the knife in the underwire of my bra while he was trying to undress me. And I found out that I was actually supposed to shoot him...

Right on cue, Seojun approaches me, as mesmerizing as ever. "Annyeong, jal jinaeyo?"

I smile softly. He was cute, but I didn't understand much of what he said, thanks to not being Korean (damn you, mom). I nod graciously. "Annyeong." I give him a thumbs up.

He smiles and extends a hand to me, gesturing wildly. "You, me, dance?"

A hand latches around my waist suddenly.

"Mian, geu salam-eun naekkeoya," a gruff, manly voice deadpans, and drags me, around the waist, to another area in the ballroom.

"Who the hell are you? Get your fucking hands off me!"

The masked man smiles. His teeth are really pretty. His eyes are a blazing, golden inferno. "Who I am is not important. All I know is that you are Roseanna Alexandra Tapshaw and you must stay away from Lim Seojun or he will do something your virgin body regrets." He turns on his heel and leaves. Swiftly, losing me in the crowd of people.

Alexander Romanov of Russia approaches me. "They want you up there - " he motioned at the stage " - for an important announcement, okay, Rose? I promise that I won't let you stay up there for long." Leaves again.

Weird.

Grabbing the skirts of my blood red gown, I hurry up the steps of the stage as fast as my heeled feet could, finding a line of two other women standing there, idly watching the crowd of dancing people.

Minutes later, a young, short, blonde lady taps the mic. "Hello everyone, welcome to the Lim Mafia's biennial masquerade party! This time we have an auction of these three young women! In the white, is Miss Caroline Paine, a servant of the Romanov mafia. In the blue is Harriet Quinn, the secretary of the Carmelo Mafia! Finally, in the red, we have Miss Rose Tapshaw, the one and only leader of the American Tapshaw Mafia!"

Cheers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

What did I do?

The world is a blur as Caroline Paine is auctioned. 20,000 dollars.

Harriet Quinn for 500 fucking thousand.

My turn.

People start shouting.

"1 million!"

"1 million 2 thousand!"

A deep, gruff, voice hollers, "1 million and 500 thousand." The same guy from before.

Seojun's voice comes on. "1 million 550 thousand."

Shit. Romanov's voice next. "1 million 600 thousand."

Quin. Oh no. "2 million."

Kane. "2 million 500."

Romanov.

Kane.

Quin.

Then the man with the deep voice. "10 fucking million."

Crap.

Silence.

The blonde woman looked so pale that she was about to faint. "Sold to Mr. Andrew Grey for 10,000,000."

Word Count - 1029