Page 9 of His to Possess
“So you didn’t read the contract,” he snaps. “You agreed to this insane plan without reading the fucking contract.”
“I read…part of it.” I thought I covered the important sections. My friend Michelle had been next to me, explaining things. My main concern was the money, honestly. And her assurances that the auction winners were required to respect safe words. That had put so many terrifying images into my head that I signed the damn thing immediately just to stop thinking about it. Maybe Michelle hadn’t known about the highest bid stipulation—she told me her price was in the middle of the pack when she did this last year. And honestly, would I have even taken note of such a clause? I never in a hundred years would have thought I’d get the highest bid.
Stupid,I tell myself.So damn stupid, Lilah.
Philip gives me one last withering glare. His displeasure with me couldn’t be more obvious. “This is unacceptable to me,” he says, turning back to Rossi. “I would think with the amount of money I just paid your establishment, an exception could be made. I’d like to take Lilah home with me for the night.”
Why do his words have a surge of heat rushing between my legs? I should be horrified by this entire situation, not turned on at the thought of spending the night with Philip.
He did pay a million dollars for you,I remind myself. And he clearly recognized me from the beginning. I may have been clueless about who was bidding while up on stage, but he knew exactly who I was when he raised that paddle.
Rossi is stammering even more, his face red. “There are rules, Mr. Matthews. If the prize or her winner refuse to go through with the act, she’s supposed to be re-entered into the auction and—”
“Absolutely not,” Philip barks, so loud both Rossi and I jump. “I will be taking Lilah home with me,” he says, voice a shade calmer, but I can hear the strain underneath, like it’s taking all his control to keep from losing it.
Rossi fiddles with his gaudy gold pinky ring, clearly nervous. “I’ll have to speak with my partners.”
Philip takes a step forward, voice dangerous and low as he towers over the shorter man. “I’m sure your partners will be thrilled with the six hundred-thousand-dollar payment I’ll be handing over tonight. But if necessary, I can add an equal sized donation to smooth over any feathers.”
I slap a hand over my mouth. An equal sized donation? He’s willing to pay six hundred thousand dollars, on top of the million he’s already promised?
What in the hell is going on? There’s no way that Philip could possibly want someone this much. I’ve seen the pictures of him in the gossip pages and online. He does perfectly well for himself as far as women are concerned, always appearing at events with a different one on his arm, each of them as stunningly beautiful as the last. Veronica calls him a man-whore, and I get the feeling that’s not just sisterly teasing. A deeper search on the internet reveals quite a few rumors about the kind of sex Philip likes, and the places where he goes to get it.
I have a feeling this man could walk into any nightclub in the city and leave ten minutes later with a willing woman in tow. Or he could go to Club Wyld, the exclusive BDSM club where he’s rumored to be a member. So why is he offering to pay so much for me?
Rossi’s eyes have widened comically, probably at the promise of more money. “I’m sure my partners will find that acceptable,” he splutters. “Let me just call—”
Before he can answer, two more men bang into the room. One of the men looks a lot like Rossi, jovial, round, and red-faced with a slightly lecherous vibe as his eyes scan me. The other is taller, thinner, and something about his calculating expression puts me immediately on my guard.
Philip seems to feel the same way, because he tenses even further and steps more fully in front of me, shielding me from the newcomer.
“Ah,” Rossi says, looking slightly relieved at the prospect of not dealing with this alone. “My partners. Mr. Matthews, this is my younger brother Carl and our associate Victor Leone.”
“Philip Matthews,” the shorter man—Carl—calls, sounding gleeful. “You’ve caused quite a bit of excitement tonight.”
“My goal in life,” Philip mutters. “I was just explaining to your brother that I prefer privacy for my time with Lilah. So if you don’t mind, we’ll just—”
“What?” Carl looks crestfallen now. “But the viewing is the best part! We can’t skip that.”
I wonder if this guy has any idea how close Philip is to losing it. His fists are both clenched at his sides, like it’s taking all he has to keep from throwing punches.
“The rules are very clear, Mr. Matthews,” the taller man says, his voice quiet as his appraising eyes continue to scan me, probably wondering how someone so insignificant is causing such a fuss. He definitely gives me a creepy vibe and I wish I could hide completely behind Philip whenever he looks at me. “The deflowering must happen here.”
“He’s offered to double his payment,” Rossi says quietly to his partners, but he can’t mask the glee in his voice. “Another six hundred grand.”
The tall man’s eyes sharpen on me. “That’s quite an offer for such a short amount of time with this girl.” I avert my gaze, not liking the way he’s looking at me at all.
“Well, I’m prepared to pay it. If we can just settle up now so we can get going.”
“I don’t think that will work,” the tall man says. “There are rules in place.”
“The rules can’t bend for one point two million dollars?” Philip snaps. “Because that’s what we’re talking about here, Mr. Leone. The six hundred cut you’ll take from her price and an additional six hundred. You’d be insane not to take it.”
“We’d be insane to displease our client base,” Mr. Leone shoots back. “Unlike you, they won’t be scurrying back to Club Wyld when the night is over. If we bend the rules for you, what message will that send to our actual members?”
“That the owners of their club are savvy businessmen.” Philip glares between the three. “Unless that isn’t the case.”
“Come on, Victor,” Rossi says quietly. “Surely it wouldn’t be a big deal, not this once.”
