It will require Subject One to commit to four years under contract with WHICHEVER bidder wins the bid on his or her person. No circumstances will void the contract before the four-year term is up unless or until the buyer is deceased, and in which case, Subject One may be transferred to someone of the buyer’s choice, if made before passing.
Four years of his life.
Auctioned to the highest bidder.
All the skills Alessio worked to hone over the years with The League came down to a ten-page contract that laid out every detail for him so that he had no questions left to ask. Until now, his career with The League had been as an independent contractor. A choice Dare and Cree allowed him to have because of their attachment to him, and it meant a lot.
Others didn’t get the same treatment. Mostly, people came to The League knowing what their fate would be—one year of training, and then the auctions came up where very rich and dangerous people bid on the members for four-year contracts. That’s how The League’s real money got made.
Alessio never had much interest in the auctions. Working alone, or with The League’s team that Cree had made, gave him enough freedom to do whatever he wanted. Something had changed over the last year, though, and he leaned towards the auctions as the yearly date neared for them.
Hence, the contract.
And his need for a decision, considering in two months, the auctions would happen. Dare would need to get his paperwork settled and put him on the roster for potential buyers to peruse before they went into the auctions. It was typical for a buyer to settle on which member they wanted before they ever even stepped foot inside The League’s building.
“With your varied skills,” Corrado said from the doorway of the office, “you’ll cause a bidding war, likely.”
Alessio had known Corrado was standing there from the moment he entered the room even if the man hadn’t made a noise. So was their fucking life together. He wasn’t able to even consider this alone because he had to consider everything else, too.
“Yeah, possibly,” Alessio muttered, “but that’s not a bad thing. Thirty percent of the final buyer’s cost goes to me, and the rest to The League. After four years, I wouldn’t have to take another job, if I didn’t want to. I could do ... anything.”
“You have enough money to do that now.”
Another thing that wasn’t a secret between them. Alessio didn’t even hide how much fucking money he had spread across several portfolios because Corrado had details for all that shit, too.
“What do you want?” Alessio asked.
“To know if you will sign that and go up on the auctions.”
“Considering it.”
“I don’t want you to do it,” Corrado said.
Alessio’s shoulders tightened at that. “I’ve been saying for a year I wanted to do this, Corrado. It shouldn’t be a surprise now that I have the contract in front of me. If you had an issue with it, then you should have said something months ago. Not now.”
“Months ago I would let you do whatever you wanted to make this better for you. And sometimes, that meant you running away from me, right? Fucking off to work, or staying away from me because you didn’t want to deal with the shit you didn’t like at home.”
“Where in the fuck do you—”
Alessio turned to tell Corrado to go fuck himself, but stopped when he realized the man had crossed the office to stand right beside him. With Corrado this close, there was no mistaking that look in his eye.
That glint.
He wasn’t hiding shit.
It was all on the table, now.
“You only want to do this to get away from me,” Corrado said, not pulling any punches with each word he threw at Alessio, “the same way you take extra jobs, run with the second team when Cree allows it ... you have to keep running away, Les, because you’re scared of what might happen when I catch up to you—when this shit between us comes to a head, right?”
Alessio straightened to his full height, realizing his pride could sometimes be just as much of a bitch as Corrado’s. “Or I want something different, yeah? Not everything is about you, Corrado, even if you want to make it that way.”
Low blow, Les.
He knew it.
That was the thing, though, if Corrado wanted to say shit that hurt Alessio, then the man better be damn ready to have it thrown right back at him, too. Alessio no longer understood how to survive the mess they’d created together, otherwise.
Was it healthy?
Not at all.
Not that it mattered.
The words were out there, now.
He blamed his attitude and mood on the fact he had been tiptoeing around Corrado for almost a week and a half. Shit was always better, and far easier, between the two of them when they were together, and close. Sure, those issues still existed, but at least he was able to tuck them away when they had each other to focus on.
Right now, they were focusing on the wrong shit.
Or it was right.
It just wasn’t easy.
Corrado didn’t seem bothered by Alessio’s words. He came back stronger for the second round, saying, “It’s true, you didn’t want all of this—our problems, the shit you weren’t getting from me—to come to a head, either, because you’re terrified of what might come after. So, you keep busy, you keep running ... it keeps a distance between you and me, yeah. But then, you come back, and we have two weeks together.”
He let out a bitter laugh, so fucking dark and hurtful, adding, “But then we’re too busy focusing on being together, Alessio, because neither one of us like being apart, instead of all the shit that weighs us down. That’s why you want to do it.”
Fuck.
More than anything, Alessio wanted to deny what Corrado said to him. He wanted to tell him to shove his fucking assumptions up his ass and get out of his face. Except he couldn’t say any of that shit at all, even if he was mad—and Christ, he was so mad—because Corrado wasn’t wrong.
Nothing he said was a lie.
“You want to do the auctions because you need a new way to run, instead of staying here and handling the issues we’ve unpacked from the baggage we’ve been carrying for five fucking years,” Corrado uttered. “If you can do it to me, then the least you can do is say it, too. Just admit it.”
God.
Alessio dragged in a lungful of air that burned all the way in. “And if we didn’t have all this shit going on if we were good, Corrado ... then what would you say about these auctions, and me going up for a buyer?”
Because that mattered, too.
“I would still ask you not to do it.”
Alessio’s jaw ached from how hard he was clenching his teeth. “Why?”
“Because they won’t give a fuck about you. You will be a tool, something for them to use. They will tell you where to go, and what to do. They will determine your worth, and the value of your life, by how valuable you are to them. You might die because someone figured you were just collateral, and that contract says it doesn’t matter.”
“Corrado—”
“That contract says someone can take you from me, and there’s not a fucking thing I will be able to do about it because you signed your goddamn name on it. And right now, the only reason you want to take that risk is because as much as you like to throw my bullshit at my feet, you’re still not ready to deal with your own.”