Page 6

CHAPTER FIVE

ELENA

“Three hundred thousand,” Victoria calls out the outlandish bid Tristan is asking for, causing my breath to hitch again.

The first time it happened was the moment Conor Evans stepped onto the stage. His reputation precedes him, but it doesn’t do him a shred of justice. He is tall—easily several inches over six feet. His broad shoulders and well-defined muscles were immediately noticeable under his well-tailored, dark charcoal suit, but it was his face that mesmerized me. He has a strong, scruff-covered jawline and gorgeous full lips. The Tom Hardy kind you daydream about teasingly exploring every inch of your body. And those eyes—deep pools matching the purest of exotic oceans—that pierce through the room. He carries himself with an air of confidence—not arrogance—and it’s absolutely magnetic.

“Vic?” I lean close and whisper-shout her name. “I mean, Madame. You do know who that is, don’t you?”

Giving me a playful smirk, she asks, “What do you mean?”

“Conor… Conor Evans.” I tip my head, dropping my voice as I lean closer in hopes no one will hear me. Everyone knows who they are. Apparently, everyone but Victoria. “The Evans brothers… They’re not just club owners. They’re powerful… Dangerous… They are… mafia.” I glance back up at the stage as I wait for Victoria’s response, my heart racing as he stares at the two of us. Despite the warnings I’m trying to give her for both of our safety, my body responds to him in a way I wasn’t expecting—his raw physical presence and my sheer intrigue making me yearn for things I know I shouldn’t.

Ignoring the gorgeous man towering over us, Victoria slips her fingers under my chin and turns my attention toward her. “I see the way you look at him. The way you react to him… You want him. Don’t you?” Her voice is soft and calculated. This is no longer solely about fulfilling my desire—it has morphed into a dangerous game. A game of power and money, and she knows exactly what she’s doing. She doesn’t care about his mafia ties or his family’s notorious reputation.

All my ignored warnings aside, she’s right.

All I can think about is the way he looks—his strength, his power, the way his eyes seem to look right through me, and the things I can’t stop imagining him doing to me. “I want him,” I breathlessly blurt, as though I can’t hold back my answer.

Tristan continues to call for bids, his voice a smooth, practiced cadence as he continues to work the crowd, encouraging people to throw their money around in hopes of winning. The room buzzing with excitement, Tristan’s gaze settles on us as he awaits the next bid.

“Tonight is for you, sweet girl. And I’m going to ensure you get everything you want and more,” Victoria whispers, confidently lifting her paddle.

“Your bid, Ms. Conrad?” Tristan asks, and my heart skips a beat. This is crazy. Victoria lowers her paddle with poise. Her tousled dark hair falls over her shoulder and frames her face, accentuating the subtle red lips that the slight flush on her usually porcelain cheeks. Even here—at a kink club—she exudes the powerful elegance that originally attracted me to her.

Squeezing my hand, Victoria calls out, “Five hundred thousand!” It’s an outlandish bid. Half a million to appease my desire. Shocks and gasps ripple through the crowd as people gawk—some stunned, some impressed.

“Madame?” I choke, but Victoria doesn’t falter. The money is insignificant to her. She comes from what people refer to as old money—generational wealth. So much of it, she could buy me a Conor Evans every night of the week and probably still never need to work a day in her life.

“Going once… Going twice…” Tristan calls over the grumblings of the women Victoria has clearly outbid. The room falls silent. No one daring to challenge the price she has just announced. And then, to my surprise, Tristan shouts, “Sold! To the stunning couple in the front!”

Conor steps off the stage and walks toward us, his eyes locking with mine, a rush of excitement and anticipation rushes through me. I can’t bring myself to break our stare, and it only fuels this strange and undeniable pull between the two of us—heat, need, and curiosity.

With her arm around my waist, Victoria pulls me close and whispers into my ear, “I would’ve paid double, sweet girl… to see that look of pure desire you have painted across your face. Maybe triple if he ruins your sweet pussy the way I’m expecting him to.”

“What?” I gulp as he reaches our table.

Ignoring the man she just paid an obscene amount of money for, Victoria stands from the table and gestures for me to join her. She takes my hand with hers and pulls me behind her as she takes a step into the crowd. Looking over her shoulder, she commands, “This way, Mr. Evans.”