Chapter 2

Tara

So, this is the elusive Ryker Hudson. I've never considered myself a lucky woman, but tonight gives me hope.

"I'll keep this short and sweet," Ryker says, his chiseled jaw clenching as he obviously works to keep his composure. "I'm ready to make my offer."

Moira, bless her soul, gawks at him. "But, Mr. Hudson, don't you want to see inside first?"

I jump in because I'm vicious enough to fuck with my prey before devouring it. "Yes, Mr. Hudson. Let's take a tour, then we can play."

He glowers at me like I'm the one playing with fire here. Little does he know, I'm more than willing to get burned by him. I've been told he was untouchable.

Unfuckable.

Tall, tatted, and intense—he's not what I've imagined since joining the Monarch. He's even better.

This man looks like he could eat a woman alive, and she'd thank him for the pleasure.

But if he thinks he can charm his way into a deal with Moira while I'm here, he's about to get a lesson in humility.

I need to land this deal if I want to keep my job. It's not officially on the market yet, and I only found out this afternoon that it was going on the roster. I thought I'd have this deal in the bag with no issue tonight, but with Ryker Hudson willing to make an offer on the spot, I'll admit I'm confused. What could he possibly want with this place?

My family's company already owns most of the adjacent land and has big plans for this area. Brisbane businesses will quickly choke out anything he builds here.

So much for this being a quick, simple, cheap deal. My stepfather called me this afternoon, saying a little bird told him this building was going up for sale and that I better land it, or else.

My family and I don't get along. At all. I'm worried I'll get fired, which I won't let happen. When I leave Brisbane, it'll be my choice. Until then, I'll play nice. This deal seemed like a perfect way to ensure my job security—an easy win handed to me by my stepfather—but now that I'm here, I'm second guessing his intentions.

Maybe he's tricked me. Maybe he's testing me.

Maybe he's fucking me over.

This place is a shithole.

"After you," Mr. Hudson says, holding the door for us.

My Chanel dress is tight and short, making it difficult to climb the steps, and it's clear the elevator is out of commission and probably has been for decades.

"It has good bones," Moira says cheerfully, heading for the stairwell.

It smells like mildew and old cigarettes. The exterior wasn't so bad because it was brick, but the inside is awful. I already know what my family will do with this place. They'll tear it down. Level it. Turn it into a parking garage or something because they will not invest time and money to restore this place, even to turn it into luxury condos. It's a fucking dump.

We follow Moira to the second floor and my heel catches on a loose tile causing me to stumble backward. Mr. Hudson catches my arm with lightning speed, saving me from almost tumbling down the stairs. "Thank you." God, his grip is firm. Imagine what it would feel like as a necklace.

"Watch where you walk." He lets go of me and tips his head at Moira. "Continue, please."

"The owner has evicted everyone already," Moira explains.

"People were still living here?" I can't imagine. I've seen a half dozen code violations already and we're still only on the steps.

"Not everyone can afford a home on the East side," Mr. Hudson growls.

My blood runs cold. How the hell does he know where I live? Oh. Wait. My application to the Monarch has my address. Still, it's weird that he'd have that memorized.

Should I be freaked out or flattered?

Focus, Tara.

"The architecture is lovely." I mean it. This building might be a dump now, but it's clear by the engraved banisters and decorated ceiling it used to be a stunner. Too bad no one maintained it properly. I slow down to read some of the profanity graffitied on the wall. Someone's even carved You're worth more than this into the windowsill.

I stare at the words, my heart dropping because it feels personal.

You're worth more than this.

Am I? I make a lot of money with Brisbane Realty, but it comes at a cost I'm struggling to afford. My time, sanity, dignity, and energy are depleting fast. I hate my life. I hate what I've become. I hate that I'm here and I hate how it smells. My stepfather must be out of his mind to consider investing in this place. Or he was lied to about what a great property it is. Either way, it's my night wasted.

Fuck.

"Let me show you the rooftop." Moira pulls out a set of keys and we follow her up to what looks like a tetanus shot waiting to happen.

Mr. Hudson holds his hand out for me to take because there's no way I can climb these steep steps without some help. My dress rides up my thighs and I'm pretty sure I just flashed him my panties. Shit. This is so unprofessional.

I dressed for a meeting outside the building, not a tour.

No, I dressed for a sex club, not a realty deal on the down low.

Mr. Hudson keeps his hand gently pressed to the small of my back as I keep up with Moira. For someone who's my competition, he's acting incredibly civilized. It makes what I'm about to do almost criminal.

"I've seen enough," I say when we reach the outside rooftop that offers a phenomenal view of the glowing city. "My company, like Mr. Hudson, is also willing to make an offer tonight."

Moira's eyes light up.

"We're willing to offer—"

"One million," Mr. Hudson says, cutting me off. "My offer is one million."

It's all I can do to keep my jaw from hitting the fucking cement. That's way too much for this property. Either he's desperate or an idiot, yet something tells me Ryker Hudson is neither of those things. Just as he rolls his shoulders back, assuming victory, I knock him down a peg. "Two million."

Oh. My. God. Talk about being a desperate idiot. What am I doing?

This place is a disaster. I had every intention of walking away and telling my family this place was a no-go, yet here I am, bidding way higher than any sane person would for this place. It's too late for me to take it back. I'm fucked.

My competition turns to me, his expression stoic. Good god, he's gorgeous. Dark hair clipped short and neat. Eyes a pale grey, like a storm with a little sunshine coming through. His mouth, so fuckable and kissable, gives nothing away as he stares down at me. Dressed in a pricey, cute little suit, he looks menacing and magnificent.

Mr. Hudson cocks his brow. "I don't have time to get into a bidding war, Miss Reed. What will it take for you to walk away?" With his hands stuffed into his pockets, he steps into my space and has me by a good five inches. My breath quickens as his eyes bore into mine. "Name your price and consider it done."

My heart slams to a stop.

Opportunities truly show up in the most unexpected ways.

I have an out… and an in.

Tipping my head to the side, I maintain an air of aloofness that's taken me half my life to master. "I want to be the Butterfly."

He stills.

My heart thrashes in my chest. My palms are sweaty. I've just made the biggest power-play of my life and it's not over property. It's for sex.

The Butterfly at the Monarch is a once in a lifetime opportunity. It's one of the things that makes the Monarch so special. Once a year, select women are caught "in the net" and put up for auction. The woman with the highest bid becomes "the Butterfly" and has her choice of lovers for the month—picking her Dom from elite professionals who work at the club.

It's the only way to get to them. The Monarch has several entertainers you can play with, but the elite pros are untouchable by anyone except the Butterfly.

"That's not possible," Ryker finally says, stepping back.

"Anything's possible when you want it to be." I close the space between us. "How bad do you want this place, Mr. Hudson?"

His jaw clenches. Maybe he's debating on pushing me off the roof. Maybe he's carefully weighing his options on whether this place is worth the price I want him to pay. I have no clue how versed he is in real estate, but it's not worth the price tag he's set on it. I wouldn't have offered more than six-hundred thousand for this mess. Instead, I ratcheted the damn thing up to two million and am ready to play hardball. I'm fucked no matter what.

If he caves, I'll be forced to pay the promised amount and my stepfather will have my ass for spending so much. If he takes my deal, I'll have to come up with a lie to explain how I lost this property when no one else was supposed to know it was up for sale yet. But at least I'll get what I've been desperately wanting for so long.

My body comes alive with adrenaline.

"What will it be, Ryker Hudson?" We stare at each other like two lions. I bet we both bite hard.

"Perhaps we should take this conversation downstairs," Moira says, nervously. She has no clue what we're referencing, but I'm sure she's aware of the growing tension between us. When neither of us budges, she turns around and busies herself on her cell.

Ryker's jaw ticks, his eyes dark and hard. "You have yourself a deal, Miss Reed," he finally says, holding out his hand.

That he's old schooling it with a handshake, like my word is gold, says a lot about him, and even more about me, because I'll shake it regardless of my trustworthiness. Slipping my hand in his, a thrill skates up my spine. My nipples harden. My mouth waters. I clench my thighs because all I keep thinking about is finally getting what I want.

Tonight is a major win.

I'll just need to talk myself out of losing my job in the morning.

"Um, I don't mean to interrupt." Moira almost trips over broken bits of stone and rubber as she rushes towards us. Her stenciled eyebrows knit together and her mouth cuts in a deep frown. "I'm so very sorry," she says. "I didn't check my emails ahead of time today because I had to pick up my grandkids from soccer and then I got stuck at the grocery store before I—"

"Spit it out, Moira. Is there a problem?" My hand is still in Mr. Hudson's and we're both squeezing tightly.

"Well, yes." She looks up at us and sighs. "I'm afraid the owner has already signed auction papers. Neither of your offers are valid. They slated this building to go up for sale on the thirty-first of this month. I'm so sorry to have wasted your time and brought you here last minute. The owner told me only yesterday that they wanted to sell, and I thought they were holding off on considering an auction."

Mr. Hudson slides his hand out of mine. "Looks like this was all for nothing, then."

My heart stutters to a stop. No, no, no. I've come too close to lose it all now. "A deal's a deal," I blurt.

"The deal was contingent on the sale being made tonight." He wipes his hand off on his jacket.

How insulting.

Instead of getting flustered, I get even. "The deal was for me to let this property go so you could have it without my competition. Now if you'd prefer I meet you at the auction, I'll happily do that," I step in close, giving him my best evil grin. "And I'll drive the price up higher than you can afford." I ease off a bit. "But I'm not a petty woman." I'm a horny one. "I assure you, Mr. Hudson, you don't want to play hardball with me. My pockets are far deeper than yours."

He arches his brow. "Says who?"

"That suit you"re wearing." I turn towards the stairwell and pray karma doesn't push me down the steps for that low blow.

"For a Butterfly," he says behind me, "you sure know how to bite."

I look over my shoulder and flash him another wicked smile. "I assure you, Mr. Hudson, I never bite the hand that fingers me."

Successfully stunning him, I leave as fast as my Louboutin stilettos can carry me. By the time I'm out of the building, my knees are shaking and heart's racing. Sauntering over to my car, I wave without looking back at him. "See you tomorrow evening at the ceremony, Mr. Hudson."

A deal's a deal, and this man better not back out of it, or I'll take his ass to the cleaner and damn the consequences.