“You really don’t have to be here for this.” Edward’s smiling, but his face holds more than a little wariness. I’m sure this is the last conversation he wants to be having on a morning like this, when his company is on the verge of running an estate sale in Conyers Farm, where everybody is somebody. Including my family.

At least, we used to be. We used to be at the top of this little society, ruling from a palatial house that trends more toward Versailles than a country farm. Now my mother spends most of her days visiting my brother in the hospital, and my dad…well, he’s mostly grasping at straws, trying to come up with a new company out of thin air.

I straighten my back. “I’m going to be here for this. These are my family’s things. Of course I’m going to oversee all of it as it goes out through the front doors.”

Edward opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he thinks better of it and instead gives me a smile that curdles my stomach. I don’t want to be pitied. I’ve done enough of that for myself over the past few weeks…and the past few days. I shouldn’t be spending on frivolous extras anymore, but I hired my makeup artist Kendra to come in this morning before seven. Only she could hide the red puffiness clinging around my eyes. Now I’m standing here in an outfit designed to be professional, but not too overwhelming to potential buyers—slacks pressed to perfection and a boatneck sweater that I just wasn’t willing to get rid of. I need some things for work. The stakes there are a lot higher now.

Kendra did my hair, too, sweeping it back into an elegant knot at the back of my head. “Is it time?”

I could just glance down at the watch on my wrist, but I want Edward to confirm that the slaughter is about to begin. My heart pounds in my chest. I don’t want anyone to come inside the house. I don’t want anyone’s hands on my family’s things. And I don’t want to watch it all walk out the doors.

Edward’s company has spent the last two weeks tagging everything left in the house—all the antique furniture, the plush rugs with their intricate patterns, the china, the jewelry my mother didn’t take with her, my father’s collection of pistols owned by kings and princes—everything. They even went into the attic and tagged entire piles of things for one low price.

It all makes me sick.

I still can’t quite wrap my mind around how it all went wrong. One minute, my parents had plenty of money—more money than they could ever need—and the next they were struggling to pay the medical bills for my brother, Henry. Not that he did anything wrong, either. He was even wearing a helmet when the semi sideswiped his motorcycle on the highway and sent him tumbling into the ditch like a human rag doll. I swallow hard. I don’t like to think about the damage a thing like that can do—and did—to a person’s body. It’s not going to be an easy recovery, if he recovers at all.

There were supposed to be failsafe plans, though. There were supposed to be investments. 

But it was like Henry’s accident five months ago was the first domino in a long chain, ending in me, standing here, about to sell all of our precious things to the highest bidder. 

“It’s time.” Edward’s voice is soft, and he gives a nod to his staff members stationed around the room.

Edward moves toward the front door. It’s a gorgeous June morning, warm and sunny, and I know how inviting the house will look from the outside. It’s too bad it doesn’t look like a haunted house. Maybe that would keep people away.

No. I need people to come here, because my parents need a place to live. They need a place close to Mount Sinai that won’t be a complete embarrassment for them, and we need to defray the cost of Henry’s care. Somehow.

As much as I hate standing here, I can’t leave it all up to them. Not when they’ve given me everything.

The door bursts open just as he’s reaching for the handle, and Edward jumps back out of the way. He’s still stumbling backward when a man in a fine blue suit—fine as hell and tailored to a lean, muscled body—strides in like he owns the place, scanning around like everything in the room already belongs to him and he’s ready to get his hands on it.

I want my hands on him.

My heart races like I just heard a gunshot. Who is he?

Then he pulls off his sunglasses and looks directly at me. Even from across the room, the silvery sheen of his piercing gray eyes is enough to set me on fire.

Three people file in behind him and stand just off his shoulders, like they’re waiting to attack the moment he gives the word.

He grins, and it’s the cockiest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s also the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and at the sight of that wicked smile on his chiseled face, a wave of heat rushes down my spine, centering between my legs. I can’t stop the blush from flooding my cheeks.

Then he opens his mouth. “Am I early?” His voice is a deep, smooth rumble. God, he even sounds like some kind of sex lord. I catch myself leaning toward him, almost rising up on tiptoes, and pull myself back. What am I doing? 

“Right on time, sir.” Edward steps forward, extending his hand, and the man—this perfect man—shakes it without a second glance.

He takes another step inside the house, toward me. “You’re the representative?”

Being under his gaze is like staring into the surface of the sun, and I can’t get my mind to catch up with his words. “Me?”

He laughs. It’s not kind, but it’s not exactly mocking, either. Pull it together, Ruby. Another rush of blood to my cheeks. It’s pretty damn mortifying to be laughed at in your own house. Then he gives a slow nod. “You.”

“Yes.” I draw myself up to my full height. “I’m Ruby Ashworth. I’m the representative.”

“A hundred thousand.”

His offer lands in the room between us and sends another sickening wave of embarrassment twisting through my gut. A hundred thousand? For everything my family has treasured for so long? 

I hate him. I hate him more than I’ve hated anyone.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” I throw the words back at him.

“For all of it. Everything in here, a hundred thousand.”

I can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. I can’t believe the insult. “You’re going to offer that—that pathetic sum, and you’re not even going to look at anything?”

“I don’t have to.”

“No. Not a chance. Never.”

“All right.” My stomach turns over. “That’s your call. But I think you should have this.” The air heats up between us as he steps toward me, his movements sinuous and powerful underneath his suit. He stops a foot in front of me and holds out a card, black and shining, silver lettering on the front. It takes everything I have to reach for it. When it’s between my fingers, I look back up into his eyes. They’re locked on my face, and the lingering moment makes every cell in my body hum. “That’s my direct number. Private, unlisted, unavailable to everyone else. Do me a favor and don’t share it.”

Then he turns on his heel, heading back for the front door.

He’s on the threshold when he turns back, centering me in that molten gaze again. “Good luck with the sale. And give me a call when you realize you need me.”

Then he’s gone, his people filing out after him.

My heart is in my throat, my mouth hanging open.

I snap it shut, glancing down at the card, trembling along with my hands. Levi Blake and a number. That’s all.

“Ruby.” Edward’s voice breaks into the thud of my heartbeats. “Are you all right?”

“I’m going upstairs,” I snap, and then I turn on my heel and go, heading as quickly as I can for the grand staircase. “And Edward?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t negotiate with a single one of these assholes. The prices are what they are. Not a dollar less.”

Screw all of these people. Screw everyone who’s on the way to the sale right now. I’m not going to be taken advantage of like this.

Especially by Levi Blake.

I hate him.

I thunder up the stairs and his gray eyes flash into my mind again, sending a shiver of something down my spine.

I hate him.

I hate him...