Claimed By The Billionaire Alpha

Chapter 2 Midnight Call

I should have thrown the card away.

That was the sensible thing to do.

Rip it in half. Drop it into the nearest bin. Walk back upstairs to Liam’s room and pretend the strange woman, the black car, and the man with the grey eyes had never happened.

Instead, I stood beneath the hospital awning with rain dripping from my coat and the matte black card clenched tightly in my hand.

Across the street, the sleek car was gone.

So was the man.

But the feeling of being watched lingered on my skin like a touch.

I hated that I kept thinking about him.

Not because he was attractive—though even in the rain and distance, there had been something sharply unsettling about the way he carried himself.

No.

I hated thinking about him because I had bigger problems than a stranger with dangerous eyes.

Liam had days.

I turned the card over again.

One number.

No name.

No company.

No explanation.

Just five cold words.

Auction begins at midnight.

I checked the time on my phone.

11:17 PM.

My pulse kicked hard.

This was madness.

Every instinct I had screamed to walk away.

But instinct had never sat beside a hospital bed and watched the only person it loved fade inch by inch.

My thumb hovered over the number.

Then I pressed call.

It rang once.

Twice.

A woman answered.

“Auction registry.”

Her voice was calm, clipped, professional.

For a second, I forgot how to speak.

“I…” My throat tightened. “I was given a card.”

“Name.”

No greeting. No surprise.

“Ayla Rowan.”

Keys clicked somewhere in the background.

Then silence.

“Verified.”

The word made something cold settle in my stomach.

“How am I verified?” I asked.

“You were pre-approved.”

“I never applied for anything.”

“Attendance is optional,” she said smoothly. “Your file was not.”

My grip tightened around the phone.

“What does that mean?”

“It means transport can be arranged.”

“I don’t even know what this place is.”

“A private contract registry.”

“That means nothing.”

“It means people with needs meet people with means.”

The phrasing was polished enough to sound respectable.

That somehow made it worse.

“And what exactly am I expected to do there?”

“Attend. Present. Decide whether to accept an offer.”

“Offer for what?”

There was the slightest pause.

“Your contract.”

My skin prickled.

“No.”

The word came instantly.

Then Liam’s face flashed through my mind.

Too pale.

Too tired.

Days.

My breathing turned shallow.

“What kind of contract?”

“That depends on the bidder.”

I almost hung up.

Instead, I heard myself ask, “And if I refuse?”

“Then you leave.”

“So I can walk away?”

“Yes.”

The answer came too quickly.

I did not trust it.

“Where is it?”

She gave me an address in the financial district.

“Midnight sharp,” she added. “Arrive alone.”

The line clicked dead.

I stared at my phone.

My reflection looked back at me in the black screen—wet hair, tired eyes, fear written across every part of my face.

I should have gone back upstairs.

Instead, I started walking.

⸻

The city looked different close to midnight.

Sharper.

Harder.

Office towers stood black against the sky, their upper floors glowing like watchful eyes. Streets that had been crowded hours ago now felt strangely empty, as if everyone sensible had gone home and only bad decisions were left outside.

My trainers squelched with every step.

I had changed nothing.

Still damp jeans. Still old coat. Still the same girl who could not afford bus fare some weeks.

Whatever waited for me at the end of this street did not belong to my world.

Maybe that was why I kept going.

The address led me to a building with no sign.

Glass. Steel. Perfect lines.

No windows at ground level.

No doorman.

No reason to trust it.

I stopped across the road, staring at it.

Rain slid down the side of the building in silver streaks.

I could still turn around.

Go back to Liam.

Hold his hand.

Tell myself I had principles while he got worse.

My throat tightened.

A black car pulled silently to the curb beside me.

The rear window lowered two inches.

Grey eyes met mine from the darkness inside.

My heartbeat stumbled.

It was him.

The man from outside the hospital.

Up close, he looked even more dangerous.

Dark hair swept back carelessly. Sharp cheekbones. A jaw set with quiet control. Expensive black coat open at the throat. No tie. No visible effort made to impress anyone.

He did not need to.

Power sat on him naturally.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

Then he said, in a voice low and smooth enough to unsettle me further—

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question.

I bristled immediately.

“You were watching me.”

“Yes.”

The blunt answer caught me off guard.

“Why?”

His gaze moved slowly over my face, then back to my eyes.

“To see whether desperation outweighed pride.”

Anger flared hot.

“You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough.”

I stepped back from the car.

“Then tell me what this place really is.”

“A chance.”

“That’s vague.”

“It is meant to be.”

I folded my arms tightly.

“And you are?”

A pause.

Then:

Cassian Blackwood.

Just his name.

As if it should mean something.

Maybe it did in circles I had never touched.

“It means nothing to me,” I said.

One dark eyebrow lifted slightly.

“That makes you unusual.”

The rear door unlocked with a soft click.

“Get in.”

I laughed once.

“Absolutely not.”

His expression did not change.

“If you cross that street alone, security will stop you.”

“And if I get in the car?”

“They won’t.”

I looked at the building.

Then back at him.

“You expect me to trust a stranger who watches women outside hospitals?”

Something almost like amusement touched his mouth.

“No. I expect you to choose your brother.”

The words hit exactly where he intended.

I hated him for knowing where to strike.

I hated myself more for opening the door.

The interior smelled of leather and cedar.

Warmth wrapped around me the second I climbed inside.

I sat as far from him as the back seat allowed.

Cassian glanced once at the distance between us.

“Comforting.”

“Necessary.”

The car pulled smoothly away from the curb, crossing the road toward the building entrance.

My pulse thudded hard enough to hurt.

“What happens if I hate everything inside?”

“Then hate it.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It is the only one that matters.”

The car stopped beneath a covered entrance.

A uniformed guard opened my door immediately.

Cassian stepped out first.

Even the guard avoided looking directly at him.

Interesting.

I climbed out after him, refusing the hand he offered.

His gaze dropped briefly to my fingers.

Then he turned toward the doors.

They opened at once.

Warm golden light spilled across polished black marble.

Inside, silence waited like something alive.

Cassian looked back at me over one shoulder.

Grey eyes unreadable.

“Stay close, Ayla.”

I lifted my chin.

“Why?”

Something dark flickered in his expression.

“Because once we enter,” he said quietly, “everyone inside will want what I found first.”