Chapter 5

Darren

The auction room reeked of wealth - polished wood and cigar ash, the kind of stench that clung to your skin like a second hide. I slouched in my chair, the velvet too soft against my back, watching the crowd preen and posture. Caccius perched beside me, his chair tilted back, only the rear legs kissing the floor. He swayed like a drunk, champagne sloshing in his glass, a crooked grin splitting his face.

"Money is capricious!" he crowed, voice sharp with glee and nerves. "Such a broken piece of land! I guess this 2 billion will be wasted."

The auctioneer's voice sliced through the murmur, smooth as a blade. "2 billion once! 2 billion twice!"

I lifted my sign, the weight of it cold in my palm. "3 billion."

Caccius's chair crashed down, a hard crack against the floor. His champagne hit the carpet, a wet gold stain blooming fast. He didn't even glance at it - just scrambled up, lunging for my arm. His fingers dug in, desperate, trembling. "For the fuck's sake! Darren Stockton, what are you doing?!"

I turned my head slow, met his wild eyes with a calm that felt like ice. "Participating in the auction," I said. "What else am I supposed to do?"

Across the room, Leila flicked her sign up, casual as a predator stretching. "4 billion."

I raised mine again, no pause, no flinch. "5 billion."

Caccius's breath hitched, his face paling under the flush of drink. Eyes darted around - every bastard in the room was staring now, their attention a noose he couldn't slip. He couldn't drag me out, couldn't cage me like he wanted. So he sank back into his seat, forced a smile that looked like it hurt, and hissed through gritted teeth, "We both earn hard-earned money in business. Now you're using our hard-earned money to fight against the old money. If you really want to blow your money to get a Lycan princess' attentnion, feel free to use your own money. I'm not going to be a part of this and I put my foot down."

Leila's gaze cut to me then, sharp and unblinking, locking on my corner like she could smell the blood in the air. She was a blade wrapped in silk - dangerous, beautiful, the kind of woman who'd gut you and call it a gift. Five billion to make her look my way? That was such a steal.

I tipped her a smirk, a bare nod. Her eyes narrowed, a flash of teeth behind that pretty mask.

Then, stone-cold, she lifted her sign again. "10 billion."

The auctioneer faltered, his polish cracking. "10 billion for this piece of Skagen Abode lot," he said, slow, like he couldn't believe it. "Mrs. Lavoie bid 10 billion. Anyone else want to follow?"

Leila's stare hit me again, pride curling in those dark depths, a smile that dared me to bleed for her. I held her gaze, let my sign drop to the table, and raised my hands slow - palms up, a surrender that wasn't defeat. Caccius snatched the bidding paddle before it settled, slamming his ass down on it like he could smother my madness.

"10 billion once! 10 billion twice! Deal!" The gavel fell, a hollow thud that rang in my bones.

Caccius let out a ragged breath, relief leaking from him like sweat. "This 10 billion will make Lucas lose a lot of money on his book," he muttered, almost to himself. "It seems that Lucas hates this wife for a reason. Impulsive consumption is not advisable."

I glanced up at Lucas' private box. His face was a ghost's - pale, tight, fury carved into every line. I lifted my champagne, the glass cool against my lips, and took a slow sip. The bubbles bit my tongue. "He won't give a penny of this deal," I said, a grin tugging at my mouth.

The room buzzed, a low hum of whispers and greed. Leila stood there, soaking in the bows and murmurs, victorious. Caccius slumped beside me, still clutching that damn paddle like it might rise up and betray him. I leaned back, let the velvet swallow me deeper.

She'd won the land, sure. But I'd get her attention. And that was a cut worth taking.

Leila

I lingered near the fringes of auction hall, the crowd spilling out like rats from a sinking ship, their tuxedos crisp and suffocating. My own gown was a noose of silk, too tight across the chest, a reminder that even a Lycan Princess could be leashed by expectation. I scanned the sea of black and gold, bored, until my eyes snagged on him.

Darren. He didn't blend. No tailored suit, no bowtie choking his neck. Instead, he wore a leather jacket and pants, the kind a biker might peel off after a long ride. The fit was obscene - every stitch hugged his muscles, tracing the hard lines of his chest, his thighs, his unruly swagger cutting through the crowd like a blade. He looked wild, a stray in a den of domesticated dogs. I'd heard the whispers - Darren, the business genius, the Kingdom's newest prodigy clawing his way into the elite. I'd pictured him older, some graying bastard with a paunch and a sneer. Not this. Not a face as sharp as mine, eyes too young and too alive.

Beside him stood a blond shadow, Caccius, his partner, all sleek angles and quiet menace. They moved like they owned the room, and maybe they did. Then Darren's gaze hit me. It wasn't a glance - it was a lock, a predator pinning its prey beneath a claw. My skin prickled, a shiver I didn't want. I hated it, hated him. Especially since he'd bled me for 8 billion tonight. A pittance, sure, but the sting of it gnawed at me like a splinter under a nail.

I turned to leave, the air too thick, when Lucas and Josephine materialized like a bad dream. Arm in arm, they were a parody of what I'd never be - obedient, tethered. Lucas' face hardened as he saw me, his voice a low rasp. "Leila, this is a serious auction. Since you have no concept of money, why did you bid for it?"

Once, I'd have snapped his head off, let my tongue carve him open in front of the gawking crowd. Now? I just stared, blank as a dead thing. He wasn't wrong. Money was a fairy tale I'd never believed in. As a Lycan Princess, I took what I wanted - coin was for peasants. His words slid off me, useless.

Josephine piped up, her voice syrupy, venomous. "Yes, Leila. 10 billion's not a small amount. Besides, we aren't optimistic about that lot…"

We. The word was a slap, her fingers curled around Lucas's arm like she'd already claimed him. She dared say we in my face, as if she weren't just a leech in a pretty dress. I let a smile twist my lips, slow and cruel. "Don't get it wrong, Miss Curran," I said, my voice a blade dipped in honey. "I bought this land myself. It has nothing to do with 'you'."

Her mouth twitched, a crack in her mask. Lucas stayed silent, his jaw tight. They knew better than to push. I walked away, the night air sharp against my skin, Darren's stare still burning a hole in my back. The land was mine, and so was the game. Let them choke on it.