The Bid

Chapter One

A prize.

A trophy.

A possession.

That's what I was raised to be. For no man to have, no man to touch unless for the right price. At least that's the message my father drilled into me from the moment I bled and 'became a woman'.

"You will be my most valuable asset, my dear Aisling. You look so much like your beautiful mother except far more useful. You will give me everything." I can hear his words.

Everything. How could I possibly do such a thing.

I was hardly allowed out of the house before I turned eighteen, unless escorted by my fathers men. Only able to attend grand events he forced upon me as his showcase possession.

Guests would always whisper and ogle me, men would stare and I could see it in their eyes.

Desire. Heat. Lust.

Vile and disgusting things that I was told about once I turned eighteen and reminded of constantly for the following seven years as my impending duty.

Sex. That's what men really want.

That's why they want me. At twenty five years old I am my fathers most valuable untainted asset.

One he doesn't take very good care of, mind you. If the daily beatings are any indication or his torturous lessons. He's just become the master at hiding it.

My only saving grace was being allowed to work as a bartender at one of my fathers most prestigious clubs. Only the high end clients and people he's in bed with are allowed in. And I'm the sparkling Diamond he keeps on display there to draw them in.

I don't get paid but I'm free. For those nights I'm free.

"Aisling are you ready?" I hear my fathers voice yell to me from downstairs. His booming tone echoing through the empty lifeless halls of this desolate mansion.

How I wish he would just call me Ash like I prefer. Like I go by and introduce myself to everyone I meet.

Aisling is a farce. Aisling is a puppet. Aisling isn't me.

"Coming." I take a deep breath, staring at myself in the mirror one final time before standing up.

My floor length emerald green dress flows effortlessly down, accentuating every curve of my body. The silk fabric feels cooling against my skin, helping to calm my nerves.

In loose curls, my hair cascades down my back, accentuated with tiny pearls on pins to hold it in place.

Tonight I'm allowed out again. I'm allowed out only to be paraded around as his arm trophy to draw everyone in to his charity event.

Charity would be a stretch though. Everyone in attendance is a criminal, the seediest of people all gathering in one place to participate in one of the largest money laundering schemes and it's held every year.

Where they all throw money freely and try to strike up deals to climb up higher than they already are. So many nefarious people all trying to kiss my fathers feet or get into bed with one of the other higher families.

My father is not a good man. No he's no where near the word good and just using his name in a sentence with that word would sully it, taint it beyond comprehension.

No, he is and always will be a violent, murderous, evil man who just so happens to run the largest mafia faction out of Ireland.

He isn't alone though, there are multiple other prominent families in leagues with him. To name a few others, there's the Murdoch's in Glasgow, the Kozlov's in Moscow, Ricci family in Milan, Auclair in Paris and of course the Sharpe family in London.