Sold to Him: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  This situation is worse than I imagined. I’ve literally been kidnapped as the man I love looked on, doing nothing. I don’t care where they take me now. There’s only the pain in my chest, a physical stab where my heart used to be. Did Gray ever love me? Did he ever care? Because the answer’s all too clear.

  The billionaire never cared about me at all. This whole time, I was just a gullible fool, living in a dream world where princes ride white horses before galloping off into the sunset, a beautiful damsel rescued.

  This was nothing like that. Gray was a billionaire beast who only wanted my virginity, front and back, before surrendering me to the masked men.

  The ice around my heart grows more and more solid until I am completely encased, covered with it inside and out.

  I’m frozen with grief, pain, and the knowledge that I’ve been an utter fool. I’ve been abandoned again for not being good enough. Just like my parents, he left me when I needed him most. Now there’s no one out in the world to save me, and I am completely and utterly alone.

  Chapter 10

  Grayson

  “Grayson! Help me! Save me!” Trina’s terrified face and wide, tear-filled eyes flash behind my tightly closed eyes. “Help me!” she’s crying out desperately. “Please,” she cries. I see those terrified eyes again, the way her hands reach for me in desperation.

  Fuck! The man dragged her out a while ago, but her terrified screams still ring like emergency sirens in my head. I pace in the suite, my knees wobbly as I make my way from one room to the next, my body shaking with shame and fury. Every time I pass the pile of clothes she left, the pain of what I did stabs me harder.

  You fucking idiot!

  What kind of man abandons the woman he cares about?

  My entire body shakes. The foundations of who I thought I was begins to crumble. Because all these years, I’ve been ruthless at every turn. Firm and calculating in my business and personal lives. But never did I hurt an innocent. Never did I cause a look of terror like I saw on Trina’s face as she was being dragged from the bathroom.

  Fear. Betrayal. Hopelessness flickered across her beautiful features.

  Am I the man who did that to her?

  Fuck. Of course I am.

  I feel bile rising up in my throat and I barely make it to the bathroom on time to spew it all in the toilet bowl, heaving my guts up and tasting the bitter gall of my stupidity. Tears from the strain of vomiting burn my eyes. My chest heaves. My stomach cramps. My hands clench around the toilet bowl.

  Disgusting. That’s what I am. A pile of shit, stinking to the high heavens, not even worth touching the soles of her feet.

  When I have nothing left inside of me, I brush my teeth and wash my face, then stagger back into the living room. As a lurch past a big decorative mirror, I see a haggard man: a coward in dark slacks and la ong-sleeved shirt unbuttoned and showing off the body I’ve always been so damn proud of. But I can’t take pride in that now. None of that means shit because this body betrayed Trina. This body let her go.

  My fists clench and my jaw aches from gritting my teeth. I want to smash the pretty image in that mirror, to punch and destroy that chiseled chest and those hard abs. But I know this physical self-destruction is nothing compared to what Trina’s going through right now. Fuck, this is all my fault. Why didn’t I help her? What the fuck is wrong with me? Seeing red, I take the closest thing to me—a vase full of blooming flowers—and slam it against the wall, roaring with anger. The vase smashes against the wall, water, stems, and shards showering the carpeted floor. This does nothing to quell my rage, and I am left standing silently, chest heaving. Suddenly, my whole body feels weak, and I listlessly stumble into a chair.

  Okay. Calm down.

  With a desperate gasp, I try to wrestle my out-of-control thoughts into submission. But another cramp twists my stomach and I fight off another round of vomiting. It’s all I can do not to double over from the pain. It’s all in my head, this pain, but it’s still real.

  Trina. My sweet girl is gone.

  Never in my life have I felt like so shitty and powerless. I run a multi-billion-dollar company. I have hundreds of thousands of employees, and I can buy my way out of trouble anywhere on the planet. But I might as well be a nameless nobody sleeping in the gutter for all the influence I have now.

  “Grayson! Help me! Save me! Get me away from them!” Tears well up in Trina’s soft brown eyes and cascade down her rounded cheeks. She looks broken, like nothing in her life will ever be the same again. And it’s all because of me.

  “Fuck!” The mirror explodes into a thousand shards under my fist. Blood explodes from the gashes and cuts in my knuckles but I barely feel the pain.

  This is all my fault. I signed the contract. I know what the Billionaires Club is capable of. And I’m the one who dragged sweet Trina into all this, knowing full well the consequences if they found out what I was doing. Stupidly, I expected the hammer to only come down on me. I was naïve, believing that they would leave Trina alone. But what the hell was I thinking? Of course they would want her—after all, she’s by far the most beautiful woman any of us have ever seen. I’m just a dumb fuck by comparison, and easily replaceable to boot.

  My injured fist clenches at my side and I spin from the reflection of myself, making myself sick and dizzy. My sudden movements splash bright red blood across the hardwood floor and the dark blue silk bedspread.

  Trina’s name rings like a bell in my head.

  Trina. Trina. Trina.

  What a beautiful, innocent, and heartbreakingly sweet girl. What did she ever see in a fucked up guy like me?

  On that first day of the interview, I wish she’d been ugly and haggard, skinny as a tramp with fake extensions and fake lashes. But then I never would’ve known how sweet she is. How perfect the girl is for me and me alone.

  My spine straightens. That’s right. She’s perfect for me, not them. Not for the other billionaires who think they can buy and sell everything they see, including my girl. They’ll use her up, before throwing her by the wayside to rot. And not all the money in the world can make up for that.

  Shit! I run my fingers though my hair in frustration. I feel the blood, sticky and copper-smelling, smearing my face as I rub my hands down my cheeks. I’m losing it.

  Every time I think about Trina being dragged out of here, a little part of my sanity slips away. Mad and rabid, that’s how I feel, and glancing at the distorted image of my bloody face, that’s also how I look. Blood drips down my tightly clenched fists in scarlet rivulets. Everything around me is splashed with red and it feels like a fucking crime scene in here.

  But the thing is, this is a crime scene. This is where Trina’s innocence was corrupted and stolen. And I was the criminal who did it all, left now only with the bloody remains of his regret.

  Calm down.

  Calm down.

  Calm down.

  Okay. Hands trembling, I force myself to take a deep breath and stride to the window. It’s dark up there in the sky. No sign of stars. Even the moon seems to be missing tonight. I can’t hear a thing except for the remorseful beating of my own heart. But with the air of a predator, I can sense the power and corruption within these walls, and the resulting danger to a young girl like Trina.

  Goddammit! My fist slams into the window. The glass smears with blood but remains unbroken.

  Trina shouldn’t be imprisoned in the clutches of the club. She belongs with me here and now and wherever our lives together take us. But a small part of me thinks, it had to be done…right? She had to go with him. They forced me. I couldn’t do a damn thing about it, because I broke the rules, and now it was time to pay the price.

  Maybe if I tell myself that enough times, I’ll believe it.

  But I know I’ll never believe it. Memories of our day together flood my mind. She was so happy from our trip to the amusement park, and seeing her with all that joy made me happy, too. I didn’t think it could get any better than this.

  Stumb
ling into the suite from our trip, we laughed and teased each other. I ached to fuck her again and feeling horny as hell, I pulled off her clothes, getting her ready with kisses and pinches to her fat nipples. I wanted her to take my giant cock again, this time in her sweet and dripping twat.

  “Grayson, you feel so good!” Trina gasped and wriggled from my touches, but even after I had her naked and two fingers jammed tight into her wet and quivering hole, she reluctantly pushed me away. Her cheeks were damp and red, her brown eyes soft with lust. My pretty girl was this close to letting me have her.

  But she was desperate to be clean, she explained. My girl wanted to get in the shower and wash my seed from between her ass cheeks, just so I could pump into her again once she was done. I was completely on board with that, and ready to claim her body the way she claimed my heart.

  I’d had it all planned out. In my mind’s eye, it was all there. She’d come out of the bathroom flushed pink from the hot water and the steam, her brown eyes soft and shy. Shirtless and still wearing my slacks, I would pull her to me, pull off her towel, drop down to my knees in front of her, and eat her sweet cunt until she came.

  And then once she was drifting and sweet from her orgasm, I would push her on the bed on her back and fuck her until she cried my name. Then I’d ask her to be mine. Mine to keep. Mine to hold, love, and cherish. For real. No pretense. No auction. No other men in her future. I wanted her to just be mine and mine alone. It was sudden, I know. But that’s what I wanted from her. That’s what I planned.

  And the thing is, I didn’t care what my contract with the Billionaires Club said. Fuck those obligations. But out of the blue, the bald muscle head knocked hard on the door of my suite and when I opened it, shoved a note in my hand.

  He’s here for the girl. Don’t fight, brother, or you’ll lose all that you’ve worked for.

  There was no signature but I didn’t need one to know who sent it. Stunned, I froze like a fucking deer in the headlights, the scrap of paper clenched in my fist.

  How did they find out? Did I give the game away somehow? What the hell was I going to do now?

  And in the end, I didn’t do a damn thing. The guy barreled into the bathroom before I could say a word, dragged out a kicking and screaming Trina. If he’d retaliated somehow, hit her or hurt her, I would’ve lost my shit. But he too smart for that, and it didn’t take him long. In minutes, he had her outside the suite, the slam of the door banging like a cannon.

  And me? I stood there like a fucking loser the entire time, witnessing Trina’s pain, shame, and humiliation. I didn’t lift a damn finger as the words from the note resounded in my ears. And by the time I came to my senses, it was too late. When I tried to open the door and run after them, it was locked. I was trapped. Those fuckers locked me in my own suite. They ambushed us, using the advantage of surprise, and rained fire and brimstone as I stood there like a dumb cow.

  My hands clench again, a pulsing motion that only makes the pain worse. More blood seeps down my hand and hits the floor. But this isn’t even half of what I deserve. Trina is going through much worse right now. She’s scared. She’s angry. She’s all alone without anybody to help her.

  Even worse, I’m not there to protect her. I’m fucking trapped in this luxurious suite like a prisoner prince, living in a fucking nightmare.

  How did we get to this point? I curse savagely, blood dripping down my fist once more.

  Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. One rap of strong knuckles against the wood and then it opens with a snick.

  Costas Rhodes stands in the doorway of my room, a sneer on his stubbled face, his cold green eyes flickering around the room, surveying it. Under the bright lights of my suite, his white-blond hair gleams like snow.

  “Knight.” His voice is cold and mocking. “I thought I’d walk in on you jerking off while moaning her name.” He looks almost disappointed, his full lips pressed into a tight line. “And don’t deny you fucked her. If half of what Marian said is true, you’ve already fucked all three of her holes at least twice. I know what a horny bastard you are.”

  Costas Rhodes is one of the Billionaires Club’s founding members. He looks like an elf prince with his snow white hair and ice green eyes. But there’s nothing elfin about him. The dude’s not filled with magic and grace. Instead he’s got a cunning mind and nasty smile.

  Still sneering, he saunters into the room, a silver lighter in his hand. His black, pin-striped suit is custom-tailored to his lean shape and makes him look like a lion prowling in its den.

  But this is my suite. My territory. No fucking way am I gonna let some other guy act like he owns this place. I may be stuck here, powerless, while my woman’s been dragged off to god knows where, but I’m a boss. I’m one of the billionaires.

  Because yeah, I fucked up, but none of these guys are gonna treat me like they’re better than me somehow. I stand up straight, hands in my pockets, and confront him with my own cold stare.

  “What do you want?” I growl, trying not to let my anger show. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  Costas idly flicks the lighter on, then off. The flame flaring then dying at his will. “I want you to be honorable. I want you to abide by the rules. Rules that you agreed upon when you joined.” The smile he flashes is all teeth and no warmth. “But since that horse is long gone from the barn, I just need to see that you at least know what hell you did wrong.” He flicks the lighter again. Flame. No flame. “You at least admit you fucked up, right? That you screwed the club with no remorse?”

  The whole while, Costas looks me over like he’s examining a problem he needs to solve. He’s one of the really sharp ones in the club. Costas comes from nothing. He literally landed somewhere in the States as a teenager with nothing in his pockets, and built his empire brick by brick. Used absolute ruthlessness to make sure his fledgling company succeeded, and then used animal smarts to keep it on top. He’s no one’s fool.

  And as much as I hate to admit it sometimes, I respect the hell out of the guy. I grit my teeth and bite the bullet. “I know how I fucked up, I don’t need you here to know that.”

  “Do you really?” Those glinting green eyes remind me of glinting glass, hard and predatory.

  “Yeah, I never should’ve dragged Trina into this.” Saying her name punches pain into my chest cavity. Nothing in my life has ever hurt this much. “The first time I saw her, I should’ve just told her to go home. She’s too innocent and too good for the likes of us and the games we play.”

  Costas stops walking around the room, but his fingers still toy with the lighter, sparking the flame, then killing it. He looks me over again, his eyes coolly assessing. But I refuse to squirm in front of him.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You actually care for this whore?” he asks with disbelief. It takes all of my self-control not to punch his fucking head off for calling her that. Costas flicks the lighter closed one last time and shoves it into his pocket. “Fuck, Knight. You’re even more screwed up than I thought.” He shakes his head with disbelief again. “Goddamn.”

  I give him a hard stare, wondering what his play is. Maybe he’ll let Trina go if I tell him she doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s worth a try.

  “You got it all wrong, man,” I say casually, starting to act. “Forget what I said earlier. This Trina chick is just another piece of tail. Hot as hell, true, but she doesn’t mean anything to me. Just let her go. I can find you another girl to replace her in thirty minutes. Hell, maybe less.” Forgive me, sweetheart. I don’t mean any of what I just said.

  Costas throws his blond head back and laughs long and deep. He laughs for so long that I look around to see if there’s a camera he’s performing for. “Don’t give up your day job for Hollywood, Knight. You suck at acting.”

  Damn. He’s not buying it. “I told you—”

  “Yes, yes. You don’t care for her, blah blah blah.” His eyes narrow at me in something that looks too much like sympathy, and my throat closes pai
nfully. “But let’s be honest. It’s killing you to be here. You want her. You’re a desperate man.”

  Am I that obvious? Oh shit. I have to be. Otherwise, why would he say it?

  Oh, fuck. Trina. Baby, I’m so sorry.

  Snarling, I turn away from him and face the window, looking down into the empty courtyard. I have to do something else to save her. But what? Unfortunately, my mind’s completely blank at the moment.

  “Fuck off and leave me alone,” I growl at him without turning around.

  “Yeah, I’ll get out of here soon enough.”

  He’s flicking that fucking lighter again, voice dripping with satisfaction. I want to smash his face in, and rage rises like a dangerous tide in my chest. But when I whirl around to face him, fists up, the rage dissipates under his pitying gaze. Oh shit. Pity? I hate that emotion, especially when someone pities me. The fire drains out of my form, leaving me limp and weak.

  He makes a tutting noise, and those white teeth flash at me again. Yep, that’s pity in his eyes. “You know the rules,” he says. “You’ve been terminated from the club effective immediately,” he says in a calm, cool, and collected voice. “Any monies you’ve invested stay with the club, and needless to say, you’re banned from all club-owned venues. And obviously, you can’t get your little girlfriend back.”