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Sebastian jumped in after me. “One ninety-five.”
Malcom’s eyebrows arched. “The House of Roux has submitted a tender for one ninety-five.”
I gritted my teeth together. “Take her. She’s yours,” Ash baited me. “Don’t let Sebastian win.”
“Two hundred.” My hand shot in the air again.
From here I wasn’t sure if her eyes were blue or green. They were light and airy. She looked less afraid, and more bewildered about what was happening. The challenge for her was unmasked in front of everyone.
“Two twenty,” Roux barked.
“Mother fucker,” I groaned. How high was he going to let this go? There was a point where I could annihilate him. Rub his face in my wealth. Make him regret his decision to steal my first tender in months.
“Come on, Damon. You aren’t afraid of a little proposition war, are you?” he taunted. I heard the men at his table chuckle.
“Never am.” I grinned in the dark. I could end this now. I would.
“Five hundred thousand.”
The room was shocked into silence.
I waited for Sebastian to say something, but he didn’t have the balls to challenge me again.
“The tender is complete for seven-seven-seven and has been awarded to the House of Sauvage.”
I rose from the table, straightening my jacket. “Congrats.” Ashford shook my hand.
“Thank you. I think I’ll collect my tally and get out of here.” I slammed my empty glass on the table. “Gentlemen, enjoy your evening. Good luck with your prospects.” I nodded to the nearby tables. I stopped as I passed by Sebastian.
I leaned toward his shoulder. “Don’t fuck with me like that again.”
“In here, you’re like everyone else,” he snapped.
I patted him as I began to stroll away. “You’re mistaken, Roux. I’m not like anyone else.”
4
Molly
Brooklyn squealed when I walked backstage in a trance.
“Who was it? Was it fun?” She shook me. My head rattled. “I just heard the numbers going up and up and up. They were fighting over you.”
“I have no idea. It was a blur. There were two houses at the end. I couldn’t figure out the accents.” I reached for my forehead. “I-I really don’t know what happened.”
The stage manager appeared beside us. “Cherie, Cherie, you must come. Come, with me. Quickly.”
I looked at Brooklyn. I wasn’t leaving without knowing exactly where I was going. I wanted to stay for her moment on stage as well.
“No. I need details.” I stuck my chin forward.
“Cherie, your sponsor. Come now,” he urged.
“Just tell us who it is,” Brooklyn pleaded. “I’m dying to know. I thought this was going in numerical order, but apparently, that’s not Galonian. I have no idea when I’m going out there. I’m dying back here. What if I’m left with crumbs?” All the men were billionaires. She had nothing to worry about.
He sighed. “Cher, he is waiting. You must be quickly.”
I didn’t correct his English. “Who is he?”
