Page 63 of Betrayed

I squint to see who he’s talking about but allIcan make out is a sea of faces, all covered in masks.

“Seventy-five and who’ll make it eighty?” theMCasks.

I bite my lip.Eightythousand dollars would have changed my life if someone would have given it to me whileIwas still inSingingRock.Icould have redone my house and gotten that college degreeIwanted.Hell,Imight have had a little left over to open my own pie and pastry shop.

“Eighty thousand and who’ll give me ninety?” theMCasks. “Ah—one hundred thousand from the gentleman in the corner.”

I feel another shiver run down my spine.The“gentleman in the corner” must really want me.Noneof the other girls they auctioned off sold for more than ninety thousand—that was the highest bid.Butthe bidding for me sales right over that mark and just keeps going higher and higher.

Two hundred thousand…three hundred thousand…five hundred thousand…

I can’t help believe the bidding is so high!ARecessiveOmegareally must be rare, likeRaymondsaid.Thenagain, he’d told me he was a rareMaleOmegaand his bidding went high too.

“Don’t be surprised if you go for more than a million,” he told me as he sent me off with my brother. “Idid and that wasyearsago.”

At the time,Ithought he was crazy.Butas the bidding goes into astronomical territory,Ibegin to believe he might have been right.

And then it happens.Theman in the corner—whoever he is, stands up and says in a firm, clear voice,

“I bid five million.”

A hush falls over the room and nobody moves.They’reprobably afraid if they so much as twitch a muscle it will be seen as another bid and nobody wants to top that offer.

“Five million once,” theMCsays. “Fivemillion twice…sold to the gentleman in the corner for five million dollars!”

A guard comes from the backstage area and, taking me by the elbow, hustles me down the stairs that lead from the stage to the main part of the auditorium.BeforeIknow it,I’mbeing handed over to an extremely tall man—the man who bought me for five million dollars.

He’s tall, likeIsaid, and muscular—the immaculate black tux he’s wearing can’t hide that.Hisdark brown hair is cut in a short, fashionable style butIcan’t see his eyes—they’re hidden by the mask he wears.

“Come on,” he says to me, taking me by the hand. “Let’sget out of here.”

“Wait!”Ipull back against him, unwilling to just follow wherever he leads.Idon’t care what he paid for me,Ididnotconsent to be sold in the first place!

He turns to look at me, a frown playing over his sensual mouth.Iwish he would take off the mask soIcould see his face!Helooks familiar butI’msureIdon’t know any six foot six-tall billionaires.

“What is it?” he asks me. “Don’tyou want to get out of this place?”

“I…Iwant to know your name,”Isay in a voice that wavers more thanIlike. “Please…Iknow you bought me butIdidn’t know anything about the, uh,Wereworld until today.Also,Iwas kidnapped—it’s not likeIaskedto be sold.”

“I understand.”Henods. “Allright then.Myname isConnorJamesLowelltheThird.There—satisfied?”

I nibble my bottom lip.

“Sort of.Whydid you buy me?Imean, aside from me being a, uh,RecessiveOmega.Oris that the only reason?”

“You’ll find out—but not here,” he says sternly. “Noware you coming with me willingly or shouldIthrow you over my shoulder?”

He looks like he could do it with no problem.Idon’t like the idea of being carried like a sack of flour.

“I’ll come,”Isay unwillingly. “It’sjust…we’re going through this whole crowd and look howI’mdressed.”Iindicate my gown which shows my breasts and pussy and my new owner makes a sound like a hungry growl.

“Yes,Ican see how you’re dressed,” he remarks, his eyes raking over me. “ButIlike it that you don’t want anyone else looking at you now that you’re mine.Sohere.”

He takes off his extremely expensive tux jacket and drapes it around my shoulders.He’sso tall that it fits me almost like a trench coat.Iput my arms through the sleeves gratefully and pull it close around me, being careful not to let the fabric rub my tender nipples.

The tux jacket smells like him—a warm, spicy scent that is somehow familiar.DoIknow him?Tobe honest, he looks alittlelikeFakeKane.He’sgot the height and the muscles, anyway.

But thenIremember the beat-up pickup truck and theWalmartclothes.Theshaggy hair and the way he was willing to work as a dishwasher and busboy.No…no way those two are the same person.Nobillionaire in the world would stoop to such manual labor.

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