Sold to Him: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  “Trina!”

  I jerk towards her but my captors immediately yank me back so hard the cuffs dig painfully into my skin. But the hard plastic doesn’t mean anything. All that matters is my Trina, and that she’s here. I can barely believe my eyes. What the hell are they playing at?

  This time, she’s got clothes on, or at least a robe. Tears streak her face and her chin’s trembling softly. But when I say her name, she looks up, beautiful caramel eyes going wide.

  “Grayson?” she asks in a whisper. “Oh god, is it you?”

  At her words, my heart knocks powerfully under my half-open shirt.

  “I’m okay, baby,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just sit tight, I’ll get us out of here.”

  But we’re interrupted. “Well, isn’t this sweet?” Thaddeus Drummond, one of the guys in the three chairs, sneers down at us. I ignore him, rage seething in my form already. He jerks his head toward Trina. “Bring her to the front.”

  The goons rush to do his bidding, dragging Trina so that she’s standing right next to me in front of the tribunal. A feeling of relief settles into my bones. God, it’s good to have her close again.

  Drummond’s a fucking asshole, just like the two men sitting on either side of him. He’s a huge motherfucker, wearing the best clothes money can buy. His dark eyes are like granite against tanned skin, his mouth curled into a sneer. And lo and behold, beside him sits Costas again, his white blond hair gleaming and cool in the lights. I know the third guy too. Dark hair, cold eyes, broad chest—Shawn Woods, an internet billionaire. The tribunal gazes down at us with cold, assessing gazes.

  My girl trembles, her eyes going glassy. But then she lifts that small chin and straightens her narrow shoulders, my heart breaking when I see those gestures. She’s so beautiful, bold, and brave, and I’m the one who did this to her.

  Christ, I don’t want to let her down. I can’t. Not again.

  “I love you, sweetheart,” I rasp, unable to contain the words anymore. “With everything I am.”

  She turns shocked eyes to me, her lips opening to speak, but we’re interrupted.

  “You two are pathetic,” Drummond grunts, rolling his eyes. “A real pair of fucking lovebirds.” He snorts then. “We have rules for a reason, Knight. And you fucking broke every single one.”

  “All of them,” Shawn Woods echoes, stone-eyed.

  Not everything. If I get to keep Trina safe from the shit I put into motion, then that’s enough for me. Nothing else matters.

  “What, nothing to say?” Costas speaks up for the first time, brows raised. “You know how serious this is, Knight.” His words don’t come as a surprise. Despite the fact that he helped me out earlier, ultimately, his alliance is with the Club. I can tell that his heart isn’t in punishing me, but there’s nothing he can do. He’s tied to the Billionaires Club, just like I am—or was, at least.

  “Just get on with it,” I growl rudely. “What’s the point of dragging this out?”

  Drummond sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes again.

  “You’re such a sorry fucker,” he says. “You deserve to be shot and killed.”

  “Agreed,” Shawn rumbles, lifting one eyebrow. “Look at him, he doesn’t regret a thing. No mercy, my brothers. That’s my recommendation.”

  Costas’ face is expressionless but I see the conflict in his pale green eyes. At first, I think he’s going to say something in my defense, but I’m wrong. Instead, Costas joins the others. “We are decided then,” he says in a flat voice.

  “We are,” the other two confirm.

  Drummond leans forward, his form menacing. “Grayson Knight, you are sentenced to death.”

  Trina gasps beside me, her curvy form collapsing, but strangely, I don’t feel anything. Death is welcome in my world, and I don’t fear the Grim Reaper any more than I fear a strong headcold or a devastating car accident.

  But then everything changes.

  “Okay, then.” Shawn drawls, leaning back and narrowing his eyes at Trina. “Now that we’ve decided that, what about the girl?” His eyes grow predatory as he takes in her luscious form. “I know I’d like a piece of that. Should we share her, brothers? Make her available to all the members as a serving girl? Or a pool girl, working the Lapis Pool? I’m open to suggestions.”

  My spine goes steel stiff and a ball of red explodes before my eyes.

  “Let. Her. Go,” I rasp harshly. “Do whatever you want with me, but let her go.”

  Drummond’s look turns positively evil. “Oh I don’t know about that. She’s a hot piece, that’s for sure, even if you’ve already spoiled her. We can clean her up and use her again. Keep her for later, get what I’m saying? It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to reuse and recycle.”

  Reuse and recycle? What the fuck? No fucking way! Over my goddamn dead body.

  A roar bursts out of my throat. Rage explodes before my eyes, and I yank at the handcuffs while launching myself toward the steps leading to the high tribunal chairs. “Like fuck you will! Reuse and recycle? What the fuck, you fuckers!”

  The zipties are tight around my wrists but I yank and jerk hard at them. Unbelievably, I feel them bending and begin to break. Frantic to get out of the restraints, I strain even harder. “You touch her and I’ll end you, you fucking motherfuckers! Fuck this shit!” I barely notice the warm stickiness of blood that trickles down my wrists, and I don’t care. They won’t touch her. I won’t let it happen.

  “FUCK YOU!” I roar. The cuffs finally snap, and I charge like a madman toward the steps.

  “Grayson!” Through the red haze of fear and fury, I hear Trina screaming my name, begging for me to calm down and be careful. “Gray!”

  Halfway up the stairs, pain explodes at the back of my head, and I stop dead, crumpling into a useless heap. The last things I hear are Trina’s screams, loud and full of terror. Oh fuck. Have I fucked things up even more now? I’ve been sentenced to death … but all I care about is my beautiful Trina.

  Chapter 13

  Grayson

  I shoot up on the mattress, drenched in cold sweat. “Trina!” Panic pounds through my heart, and I reach out for someone, anyone, before I realize I’m in bed. Specifically, my own bed in my Manhattan apartment.

  How? Was that all a dream? No, it can’t be. Trina isn’t a dream. She’s too real, too perfect even with all her flaws, to be a fantasy that I’m forced to leave behind when I wake up.

  Groaning from my aching head and thundering heartbeat, I untangle my legs from the sheets and climb out of bed. Except for a pair of tight black briefs, I’m naked.

  How? The last thing I remember is...shit. The tribunal. They wanted to keep Trina for themselves to use as a serving girl. Oh fuck no. No fucking way. I won’t let it happen. I have to go back and get her. Those goddamn assholes.

  Wobbling on my feet, hate blazes through me like an energizing flame. I’m going to burn down everything they own. I’ll fucking destroy the club and each and every corporation those motherfuckers own in every corner of the world. I’ll come after their families. Their kids. Their fucking pets, for crying out loud.

  I stumble to my closet and grab a pair of sweats and yank them on. But where’s Trina? Where is my beautiful girl? What are they doing to her right this second? Are they prepping her to become a hostess or a pool girl? Or god forbid, putting her up for auction again? Rage blazes across my vision, making it impossible to see. My fingers fumble at the sweats, and I almost fall to the floor, unable to focus on anything but rescuing my female.

  Getting her back is the first order of business. I won’t do anything until I have her in my arms again, safe and sound. Stumbling, I head for the kitchen, my mind still spinning with rage, shock, and anger mixed into one.

  But when I get to the kitchen, the world stops turning. Literally, I jerk to a halt, unable to breathe. A jolt of amazement and happiness shakes me from the ends of my hair to my toenails.

  Because a woman stands in my kitchen. Beautiful and
round, her curly hair in a messy top-knot while she chats away on the phone like it’s any day of the damn week. All my plans for revenge and destruction instantly disintegrate into dust.

  Because what in the world is Trina doing here? And when she sees me, she turns around and rushes into my arms, dropping the phone, that curvy body pressed against mine.

  Yes. It’s her. No question. Sweet Jesus, how the hell did she get into my kitchen? Am I hallucinating?

  “You’re here.” I state the obvious like a complete fool, but she smiles sweetly at me, her eyes wide and trusting, arms clasped around my torso.

  “I’m here,” she confirms, still pressed against my broad chest.

  I seize her mouth in a deep kiss, plundering that lush loveliness. My hands curl through her hair, hardly believing that she’s mine. What in the world? Just a few hours ago, I’d been sentenced to death while my girl was condemned to a life of service at the Club. What in the world is going on? I pull away, breaking off our kiss although the lack of contact kills me.

  “Tell me what happened, baby. How are you here? How am I here? What the fuck is going on?” I’m so damn grateful that it barely matters, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the Club isn’t forgiving. “Who do I owe for letting us go? Tell me everything.”

  And she does. It turns out that after I went crazy, raving like a lunatic dog, the tribunal decided it was too much of a liability for them to keep us. They genuinely feared for their lives, as well as those of their loved ones.

  “You went insane, Grayson.” Trina runs her hand through my hair, gently stroking. “It was really scary, and everyone who saw you realized that something had to be done. So after they managed to knock you out, the tribunal talked among itself. And the next thing I knew, they were throwing us both out. For good this time.”

  “Great,” I rasp. “That’s what I want. I never want to see any of those bastards again. But sweetheart, they were going to put me to death. Why didn’t they just do that? Once I’m six feet under, I’d be harmless.”

  Shadows fall over her eyes, and she glances at the floor for a moment before meeting my gaze again.

  “Because I told them if they put you to death, then I’d kill myself as well,” she says simply. “You’re all that matters to me, Grayson Knight. If you died, then I’d have nothing, and I told the tribunal as much.”

  I sit back on my heels, shocked to my core.

  “Y-you did what?” I stammer. It’s unlike me to develop a stutter, but at the same time, Trina’s admission shakes the foundation that I’ve built for myself. Because for decades now, I’ve been on my own, and to know that someone loves me so much that they’d be willing to die if I died, breaks open my world view, leaving me gasping.

  She takes a deep breath before nodding.

  “I did, Grayson,” she says softly, clasping my hands now. “You mean so much to me, putting yourself into danger twice like that. If you died … well, I wouldn’t want to be on this Earth anymore either.”

  And with that, I crush the beautiful woman to me. Because she’s my everything. We’ve walked the wilds, braved the Club, the tribunal, a death sentence, and a life of servitude. And astonishingly, Trina and I are here now, in my kitchen, safe and sound after escaping the Club’s tentacles.

  “I love you,” I rasp into her hair, my heart beating so fast that it’s sure to pound right out of my chest. “You’re everything to me sweetheart. I can’t believe you’d die for me.”

  But before I can seize her mouth in another devastating kiss, Trina pulls back.

  “I did it because I love you,” she murmurs, looking into my eyes. “And I forgive you for that first betrayal, Grayson. You’d been a member of the Club for so long that you didn’t know what you were doing. But your actions afterwards mean everything because no one’s ever sacrificed so much for me.”

  And the words are true. I’d give anything to this woman. I’d leap tall buildings, bound over bridges, and strangle every single member of the Billionaires Club in order to keep my girl.

  “Always,” I whisper against her lips before seizing her mouth in a devastating kiss. “You’re mine, always. I love you, sweet girl.”

  And this time, Trina melts against my big frame.

  “Yes, always,” she murmurs softly. “I promise, Grayson Knight.”

  And for the first time in my life, my heart soars free and high. Because I’ve been an asshole my entire life. I used women, treating them as playthings and dolls. They were toys to be fondled, enjoyed, and then discarded. But when Trina came along, everything changed. The stakes changed. The rules changed. Hell, I changed many times over. And with her in my arms, my life is whole and complete … and I’ll never let her go again.

  Epilogue

  Trina

  One year later …

  “Oh, darn it!” The pile of mail tumbles from my hands just as the elevator doors slide open to reveal our living room.

  Our living room. Wow. A lot sure has changed in a year.

  “Everything okay out there, sweetheart?” Grayson’s deep voice sounds out from somewhere in the penthouse suite and I can’t help but smile at the sound of it.

  My husband. My love.

  “Fine, Grayson. I just dropped everything on the floor.” Tucking my messenger bag properly over my shoulder so it doesn’t join the mess, I carefully bend down and scoop up the scattered envelopes, flyers, and magazines I picked up from our mailbox. “There’s a lot of mail today.”

  “Nothing too important, I’m sure.” The voice comes closer and soon, I’m looking at the most gorgeous man alive. Grayson strides into the living room in a black t-shirt that stretches across his wide shoulders and shows off his hard pecs and flat stomach. Soft, slim-fit jeans flow over his thick thighs and legs. He’s barefoot and looks like a billion dollars. My billion dollars to be specific.

  He swoops in and pulls me to him, surrounding me in the scent of his aftershave with a hint of something else. Hmm, is that curry? But then he kisses me and everything else floats out of my mind.

  Mm. I adore that hard tongue, the slick and overwhelming heat of his kiss, and his body against mine. I’ll never get used to it.

  “Hi baby,” he greets me with a growl. “I hope you’re hungry. I made us dinner.”

  He’s been on a cooking kick lately, giving the private chef evenings off to try new recipes from the internet. And I’m not complaining. Like everything else he puts his hand to, my hubby knocks it out of the park. All the dishes turn out perfectly, beautifully plated and yet also delicious and filling. The only thing I want at the end of our meals is his delicious cock in my mouth as a thick and creamy dessert.

  “I’m always hungry for anything you make,” I purr and twine my arms around his neck.

  “Patience, sweet Trina.” He kisses me one more time, then tries to pull away, but I grab onto his t-shirt, playfully tightening my hand into a fist and using it as a tow line to follow him into kitchen.

  Yes, it smells like curry something or another. Something aromatic and delicious.

  Moving like a big cat on a leash, Grayson carefully deposits everything on the kitchen island, including the plant I’d been balancing in one arm with its big green leaves already stretching toward the open windows of our apartment.

  Still holding onto my man, I stroke a silky, dark green leaf and smile. It’s one of the plants from my botany internship at the nearby botanical gardens. When I first started working, the plant was weak from an unknown parasite but now, it’s as healthy as a horse. My boss gave it to me to care for, suggesting that I keep it in our home.

  “What’s this?” Grayson picks up one of the envelopes on top of the pile of mail. It looks like an invitation.

  “Mmmm, I don’t know.” Sighing in pleasure at being so close to him, I plaster myself against his back and peep over his shoulder as he opens the envelope. I gasp when I see the words.

  It’s from the Billionaires Club. An invitation to a party at their headquarters.
What in the world? I thought we’d never hear from them again. After all, Grayson was expelled, for good reason, not that I care. So what is this?

  Dear Mr. Knight, it begins.

  You are cordially invited to our 50th Anniversary Gala to commemorate the beginnings of the Billionaires Club …

  The thick and expensive paper with the invitation rustles as Grayson puts it on the kitchen island with the other mail. Reaching back for me with one hand, he clenches his jaw and turns to the wide window of our kitchen facing Central Park.

  I stroke his back again, and the muscles bunch and release under my hand. “It seems they had a change of heart,” I say softly. “Do you want to go?”

  A heavy sigh makes his back rise and fall. “No,” he says. “No way. I’m finished with them.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want you to abandon them because of me. And I don’t want you to regret this later on either. It seems they’re opening their arms to you, and maybe you want to take the opportunity? I know how happy you were with the Club for many years.”

  But my husband snorts then, turning back to me.

  “The only thing I regret is not leaving them sooner. They’re fucking losers.” Grayson pulls me close and laces our fingers together and lays them on his chest. His skin is warm under the expensive gray cotton shirt, and his heartbeat is strong and even. “I want you to be happy. The last thing you need is for me to drag you to some stud party.”