Page 6 of Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

I glanced out at the party, enjoying the anonymity of the wall and darkness that shielded me from the crowd. My eyes took in all the Valentine’s decor in the ballroom. The walls were draped in deep red curtains, adorned with gold and silver heart-shaped garlands. The floor was scattered with rose petals. Tables were covered in red velvet tablecloths with flickering candles and arrangements of red and pink roses. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers and strong, expensive perfume and cologne.

I hated all of it.

The auctioneer’s voice boomed through the microphone, pulling my attention back. Kaira came rushing back. “It’s time,” she said, her voice a little steadier now. She nodded toward the first billionaire, who grinned as he straightened his tie.

“Do I look like a million bucks?” he asked her.

She hesitated before offering him a small nod. “Yes, sir.”

He winked. “If only I was twenty years younger, sweetheart.”

I almost laughed when I saw her disgust written across her face. He didn’t seem to notice or care about her reaction. Men like him rarely did. He walked out onto the stage. The second followed shortly after, adjusting his cufflinks as he went. The cockiness level in the two of them was admirable. Neither were exactly catches. The only thing going for them was their money.

Not that I was any better, but it amused me they thought they were irresistible to women.

Finally, she turned to me. “You’re next,” she said softly.

For a second, I just looked at her. Her lips curved into a small, nervous smile, and something in me softened—just a fraction.

Without a word, I brushed past her and strode onto the stage, ready to get the whole farce over with. But as I stepped into the spotlight, I couldn’t quite shake the image of Kaira’s wide, nervous eyes and that shy, fleeting smile. I glanced back and saw her watching the whole stupid charade.

The applause pulled my attention back to the stage and the crowd. I waved before taking my seat next to the other two. I hated this. I would prefer to just write a check than suffer through this humiliation ritual.

3

KAIRA

The lights from the stage were blinding, but I could still make out his silhouette as he took his place beside the other two men. My heart thumped erratically. Part of my unease stemmed from being in such close proximity to Roman Kelly. He was a god-like fixture in this town. Really, all of California. But to my surprise, Roman, unlike the other two men, seemed unwilling to participate in this pompous display, yet here he was, subjected to the same pageantry.

From behind the curtains, I watched the event unfold. I had never seen anyone be auctioned off. Although, back in high school, we did have those silly fundraisers where you could “buy” a day with the most popular kids to raise money for prom or some class trip. It felt strangely similar, except the stakes were infinitely higher, and the bidders weren’t giggly teens but adults with deep pockets.

And the money was going to kids with cancer. That was definitely a worthy cause.

The auctioneer introduced each participant with great flourish, and when it came to Roman, his introduction was met with a mixture of cheers and murmurs—his reputation clearly preceding him. Roman Kelly didn’t smile or even glance in my direction. Why would he?

I stood frozen for a moment before shuffling out of the way, lingering with the other staff to the right of the stage.

“Good work,” my manager said as he passed by, barely pausing to look at me. “It all went off without a hitch.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

I knew I should leave. Go find something to clean or a box to carry. I really had no reason to be here. But I couldn’t tear myself away. I was intrigued by the whole glitz and glam thing. This was probably going to be the one and only time I ever saw anything like this up close and personal. I would never be in the same room again with this much money and power.

Not that I wanted to be, but it was like watching a soap opera. It was a glimpse into a life I would never have. I listened to the auctioneer talking about the plans once a bidder won their billionaire. I couldn’t stop looking at Roman, who was staring blankly at the crowd.

I wondered if he had a girlfriend or someone he was hoping would buy him. My gaze drifted to the crowd, trying to follow his line of sight to see what or who he was looking at.

I saw a sea of beautiful people wearing jewelry that was worth more than the typical car. Then again I was looking at the sheer luxuriousness of the room in general. I couldn’t help it—this place was like stepping into a dream. My imagination took over, painting scenes of star-crossed lovers beneath the glittering chandeliers, their whispered secrets lost among the soaring marble arches. It wasn’t exactly the Eiffel Tower, but I could imagine a romance unfolding within these walls.

It would be a real Cinderella scene. The woman who came from nothing falls in love with the handsome rich guy. Beauty and the beast, rags to riches, fairytale love that transcends societal boundaries—all of it made me swoon. It was difficult to keep my mind from wandering in that direction when I was standing in a room full of glitz, watching Roman Kelly being auctioned off like some irresistible hunk of man meat.

The auctioneer continued with his enthusiastic descriptions, each one more outlandishly lavish than the last. The crowd had turned into a sea of bobbing heads and excited chatter.

“Are you ready!” The auctioneer’s voice boomed across the room.

The first billionaire stood and did a silly dance before the bidding started. It was a performance designed to open wallets and loosen inhibitions. But as I watched, my thoughts lingered on Roman Kelly, who sat with an impassive face, his eyes occasionally scanning the crowd with a detached curiosity.

The first billionaire was “sold” for a staggering thirty-five grand. I couldn’t believe it. I knew the people in the room were rich, but I didn’t realize just how much.