THE BILLIONAIRE'S PRICE

CHAPTER TWO : The Bid

Isla Raymond's Point of View

The dress did not fit well. It never happened.

Sarah had let me borrow it three times before, and each time I did, I felt like I was pretending to be someone else. The dress was black, expensive, and made me look like I belonged at events where people spent millions of dollars on art. I did not fit in here. I never did.

I looked in the bathroom mirror in the back room of the auction house. I always wore my hair twisted up like that to work. I did not know how to do anything more complicated with my makeup, so it was easy. I looked worn out. I looked like I was scared. I looked just like someone who had been awake for thirty hours because they could not stop thinking about the fake listing in the back of the catalog.

A voice from outside the bathroom door said, "Are you okay?"

Marcus, the head auctioneer, was there. He was the kind of person who always said good morning to me, even when I looked like I had not slept in days. He was right, though. I was not fine.

"Yeah," I said as I opened the door. "Just worried. There are a lot of people here tonight.

Marcus smiled, but his eyes looked worried. "This is the biggest one we have had all year." Isla, you did a great job with the catalog. "Really beautiful things." He patted my shoulder and walked away before I could tell him that I had added a joke at the end. A dumb, desperate joke that I should have gotten rid of this morning.

But I did not get rid of it.

I woke up at six and told myself to come in early to fix it. I had parked my car in the lot by then. But then my phone buzzed again with a message from the hospital. They had to get the next payment by the end of the week, or they would have to move Maya to a different place. A less expensive place. A worse place. And something inside me had just stopped working. I could not think clearly anymore. I just left the listing there, though. It was like a time bomb in the catalog.

The auction began at 7:00. The room got full quickly.

I stood near the back and watched the people come in. Women wearing jewelry that was probably worth more than my whole life. Men in suits that looked like they had been made just for them. There were trays of champagne that servers brought around the room. Everyone looked happy and rich, and they did not have to worry about whether their little sister would live or die.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I took it out and looked at it. Maya sent a text.

*How is the fancy auction going? Is everyone acting strange?

Even though my stomach was in knots, I smiled. That was Maya. She was still thinking about me even though she was in the hospital. She was worried about me even though she was fighting for her life.

*It is okay. I typed back, "Rich people looking at boring paintings." *How do you feel?*

The answer came quickly.

*Sleepy. But the nurses say that is normal. Can you come see me after work? Bring ice cream?

I told her I would. I put the phone down and tried to pay attention to the auction.

The first hour went by quickly. The paintings were sold. The gavel made the jewelry go away. The numbers kept going up. I saw a woman in a red dress win a sculpture worth four million dollars, but she did not seem very excited. Four million dollars. She spent four million dollars like I would spend five dollars on coffee.

It hurt my chest to watch it.

We were on the last page of the catalog by nine o'clock. Marcus was finishing up the last few things. There were about thirty people still in the room. Most of the serious bidders had already bought what they wanted and left. The people who stayed were having fun, drinking more champagne, and getting louder.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen," Marcus said in a bright, playful voice, "this is our last lot of the night." Something unique. Something that is one of a kind."

My heart stopped.

No. No, he was not really going to read it. He would not go. He had to miss it. He should do that.

Marcus, on the other hand, was looking at the paper. His eyebrows went up. For a moment, he looked confused. After that, he started to laugh.

"Well," he said to the crowd, "the last piece is very interesting. It is called "One Year of Marriage to Isla Raymond." He stopped. People in the crowd started to laugh. "Ten million dollars is the starting bid."

My face got so hot that I thought it might catch fire.

People in the room all turned to look at me. I stood there in the black dress I had borrowed, wishing I could disappear. Wanting to fall through the floor. Wanting to leave and never come back. This was very embarrassing. I had done this to myself, and it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.

People were making fun of it. For real, laughing. Someone in the front row made a joke about how expensive I was, and everyone around him laughed even harder.

"Going once," Marcus said, still grinning because he thought this was a funny way to end the night. "Going two times. Do I have any offers for this nice—

"Ten million dollars."

The room was quiet. Not the kind of quiet that makes you laugh. The kind that makes you gasp.

I turned to the voice. A man got up from a chair in the back corner of the room. I did not remember seeing this man when I was looking at the crowd before. He was tall and wore a black suit that was probably worth more than my car. His dark hair was styled just right. And his eyes. His eyes were staring at me as if I were the only person in the room.

I knew who he was. Everyone in the city knew who he was.

Caspian Gray.

The most feared person in business. The man who did not care who got hurt and ruined businesses before breakfast. People whispered his name with fear, respect, and anger. And he had just made a fake listing worth ten million dollars. On me.

My legs were weak.

"Ten million," Marcus said slowly, as if he could not believe what he had just heard. "That is a big offer. Do we have any other—

"Sold," Caspian said in a low voice. Not like a question. Like a sentence.

He was already walking through the crowd toward me. People moved out of his way without him even having to say anything. And he never took his eyes off of mine.

I was stuck. I could not get any air. I could not do anything but stand there and watch him get closer and closer.

"Miss Raymond," he said when he got to me. His voice was deep, calm, and scary. "I think we need to talk about business."