The guard went to the first girl in line and roughly grabbed her arm, turning it to show a mark. On her inner wrist, barely visible in the low light, was a brand: a little symbol representing Alpha's personal mark.
Proof that she belonged to him.
The girl cried out from the harsh handling.
"Be gentle," Alpha said quietly. "Damaged goods aren't worth as much."
The guard quickly let go.
Alpha walked along the line again, checking out each girl. Each one was marked. Each one was his.
"The auction is in three days," Linda said. "Buyers are already placing bids early."
"How much?"
"About four million so far. The final amount is expected to be between eight and ten million."
"Sounds good." Alpha stopped at the end of the line. "These three," he pointed at a group of girls who were all about fifteen and crying, "keep them out of the auction."
Linda took notes. "For what?"
"Personal use. I have clients who like... custom orders."
