Page 7 of Sweetest Revenge

“Hey, what about Maxwell? Ares? I’m not the only one who looks at the girls,” Dante replied, coming up to my left and handing me a glass of whiskey.

I gave him an appreciative hum.

“You have the final say,” I reminded him. At first, I’d wanted to handpick every single one, but after a while I realized it was better to relinquish some control.

“A job well done, Dante,” Maxwell said, turning his focus to him. “New dresses?”

“I knew you had a good eye.” Dante puffed his chest at the compliment. “Sponsored by none other than our friend Kian Knight.”

That caught my attention.

“Will he attend?”

Kian Knight was a world-class designer. Getting him in the auction would help us reach an audience we wouldn’t be able to otherwise. People in his circle, the artistic type, often wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this, and every time I tried to reach out, no matter my status, I’d been rebuffed.

If Dante managed to open this door, I would need to give him a raise.

“He’s out of the country, but when he comes back, he said he’d be here for sure.”

I nodded, satisfied with the answer.

“He even gave us his latest piece. Most expensive as well. I saved it for the best.”

Dante motioned to one of the girls lingering in the corner with a few men already circling her. They’d made their choice. I could tell by the way they looked at her and would immediately open the small phones we gave them to input their interest.

It wasn’t hard to understand why.

The dress hugged her body tightly, showing her perfectly toned body. Long legs, delicate hands that were currently wrapped around a champagne glass. I noticed her grip was tight. Nervous. Her blonde hair complemented the dress color perfectly. Crystals decorated her body, and she had a cat mask on.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, even if I couldn’t see her face.

But when I finally looked her in the eye, my heart stopped in my chest. Shock washed over me but was quickly replaced with anger.

Addison fucking Mercer. The woman who’d single-handedly almost ruined everything I’d worked so hard for and all because of her shit-for-brains father.

A man I used to trust. Who was my best friend before?—

I didn’t let myself think about him anymore. It made my chest ache and my veins burn with anger.

She’d been brought up to be the perfect daughter. Horseback riding lessons, gymnastics, etiquette classes. She’d go to every gala, every party, and always dressed in the latest and most expensive designers of our time.

She’d literally been bred for this world before her father ruined it all. She might have once belonged in this room, but she was like a fish out of water now and woefully unprepared for what the men attending wanted to do to her.

I had seen her when she was younger. Watched as she flirted with the socialites and attached herself to her dad’s arm.

She’d been innocent. Perfect for a trust fund billionaire with a clean face who would marry her just for the heirs she could breed.

I’d wanted her once. But all I wanted to do now was destroy her pretty little image. Force her onto her knees. Make those eyes burn with the kind of desire she’d hate herself for.

Or destroy whatever was left of her image. She deserved it.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” I growled, my gaze cutting to Maxwell.

His expression was normally reserved, but there was a smirk on his face.

“She needs money, just like every other girl here.”

Anger raged through me. But it was dulling by the second and being replaced with a dangerous need for the girl.

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