Tempting the Crown(4)

The women who came here wanted to be here. They wanted this room and everything it stood for. Titles. Money. Power. Opportunists might have been a name for them. Fucking gold diggers was more accurate.

They didn’t get more than one night. It was a mutual agreement protected by a legal document. No phones or photography were allowed. The Titan had shut down any potential problems long ago. Tallies were vetted. And membership was exclusive. The women who took their one shot had an angle. They had convinced themselves they were worthy of a prince or a Hollywood star. They thought this was their one night to convince him too. Fools.

But seven-seven-seven wasn’t that kind of woman.

Malcom cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?”

I slid into my seat and picked up the baton with my crest on it. One look at her kick-started something primal under my skin. I couldn’t explain it, but it drove me to raise my baton. Fight for what I wanted. Protect what should be mine. Every man here was identified by his family crest. That’s how dated Galona was. Crests. Family trees that could be traced for centuries. Old money. Ancient money.

“You’re staying?” Ash whispered.

“Shut up.”

The bidding started at twenty-thousand.

I waited for the fifth bid before I raised the crest in the air. “One hundred thousand,” I shouted.

“Accepted tender is one hundred thousand,” Malcom stated. “Any other propositions?”

It was dark, but I stared at my competition. I dared any other man here to make another offer.

“One-fifty.”

I turned to see the House of Roux’s crest illuminated. Fuck. Sebastian Roux.

“You might have a problem.” Ash leaned over.

“He’ll let it go. He’s just trying to raise the tender. He likes to make things interesting. Gives the bastard something to do.”

“One seventy-five.” My baton flickered in my hand.

Sebastian jumped in after me. “One ninety-five.”

Malcom’s eyebrows arched. “The House of Roux has submitted a tender for one ninety-five.”

I gritted my teeth together. “Take her. She’s yours,” Ash baited me. “Don’t let Sebastian win.”

“Two hundred.” My hand shot in the air again.

From here I wasn’t sure if her eyes were blue or green. They were light and airy. She looked less afraid, and more bewildered about what was happening. The challenge for her was unmasked in front of everyone.

“Two twenty,” Roux barked.

“Mother fucker,” I groaned. How high was he going to let this go? There was a point where I could annihilate him. Rub his face in my wealth. Make him regret his decision to steal my first tender in months.

“Come on, Damon. You aren’t afraid of a little proposition war, are you?” he taunted. I heard the men at his table chuckle.

“Never am.” I grinned in the dark. I could end this now. I would.

“Five hundred thousand.”

The room was shocked into silence.

I waited for Sebastian to say something, but he didn’t have the balls to challenge me again.

“The tender is complete for seven-seven-seven and has been awarded to the House of Sauvage.”

I rose from the table, straightening my jacket. “Congrats.” Ashford shook my hand.

“Thank you. I think I’ll collect my tally and get out of here.” I slammed my empty glass on the table. “Gentlemen, enjoy your evening. Good luck with your prospects.” I nodded to the nearby tables. I stopped as I passed by Sebastian.

I leaned toward his shoulder. “Don’t fuck with me like that again.”

“In here, you’re like everyone else,” he snapped.

I patted him as I began to stroll away. “You’re mistaken, Roux. I’m not like anyone else.”





4

Molly



Brooklyn squealed when I walked backstage in a trance.

“Who was it? Was it fun?” She shook me. My head rattled. “I just heard the numbers going up and up and up. They were fighting over you.”

“I have no idea. It was a blur. There were two houses at the end. I couldn’t figure out the accents.” I reached for my forehead. “I-I really don’t know what happened.”

The stage manager appeared beside us. “Cherie, Cherie, you must come. Come, with me. Quickly.”

I looked at Brooklyn. I wasn’t leaving without knowing exactly where I was going. I wanted to stay for her moment on stage as well.

“No. I need details.” I stuck my chin forward.

“Cherie, your sponsor. Come now,” he urged.

“Just tell us who it is,” Brooklyn pleaded. “I’m dying to know. I thought this was going in numerical order, but apparently, that’s not Galonian. I have no idea when I’m going out there. I’m dying back here. What if I’m left with crumbs?” All the men were billionaires. She had nothing to worry about.