I don’t know what came over me when I walked into the club. I’d been there a hundred times before, and this time wasn’t any different…or so I thought. The Gathering was nothing new to me—I would walk in, look over my options, and make my selection.

I knew I had more money than the richest man in the room; I knew all the men wished they were me, and that all the women wished they were with me.

Kyle Cunningham was a name that circulated around the club often. The attendees knew that I was a no-nonsense kind of man, and when I wanted something, I was not afraid to get out there and take it.

I sauntered through the room, making eye contact with everyone I passed but not bothering to hold their gazes for long. I had more important matters that needed my attention, and I was going to address those before anything else.

Cora, the stage manager, was making her normal announcement, filling the time before the first of the lots would appear. I was used to this speech; it was the same thing she said every time the bidding was about to begin, and I nearly had the script memorized. I could probably recite it myself if I had the inclination to head up onto center stage and command the attention of everyone in the room.

Center stage. I always had center stage, no matter where I went. Other men would pretend that they weren’t intimidated by me, but I could see it in their eyes. Each time I passed by, regardless of the club I found myself in or the company I found myself surrounded by, they would take a step back or to the side, offering me plenty of room to walk through.

Of course, I make a point of walking through with my shoulders pushed back and standing tall at my full height. There was no need to hide anything or to act as though I were ashamed of even a single thing I was.

I was proud of my accomplishments, and I wasn’t afraid to show it. As the CEO of KC Holdings, I knew what it meant to handle money. KC Holdings was one of the largest financial institutions in the world, and I was on top of my game.

If I were being perfectly honest with myself, I had to admit that it could be a lonely life at times—jetting all over the world, darting from one meeting to the next, never staying anywhere long; long nights in luxurious hotel rooms, telling myself that I was happy and fulfilled with the life that I was leading.

Sure, there were times when I wondered what would happen if I were to find a steady girlfriend, but I honestly couldn’t see such a thing working very well for me.

All the women I knew were the same. They looked good, they were good in bed, and they were crazy about money. They didn’t care so much to get to know me; they cared about what was in my bank account. I had taken home women from all over the world—in every kind of situation possible. There were those who had textbook daddy issues, others who were looking for a fling with a guy far better-looking than their ex was.

There were some who, stupidly, were convinced that they were going to win me over with their skills in bed—doing anything and everything they could think of in order to make that happen.

Yet, in spite of how hard these women tried to win my affections, the end result was always the same: I had no interest in having a relationship with any of them. All I cared about was getting what I wanted out of them for a night, then turning them loose in the morning. I had built quite the reputation as a playboy, and while I wasn’t proud of the title, I certainly wasn’t bothered by it, either.

When I reached the bar, I ordered a shot of whiskey. I always enjoyed having a nice, warm shot in my stomach when the bidding began; it made me more daring. Not that I needed any more encouragement to get what I wanted off the stage—I just felt like being selective with the woman I chose that night.

After paying the bartender and leaving a generous tip, I walked over to a dark corner at the edge of the crowd. A redheaded woman was being led to the center of the stage, and I could immediately see that she was new to the club.

It was odd, I thought she looked rather familiar in the face—I was certain I had seen her somewhere before. But the way she looked nervously at Cora, then turned her attention to the crowd, revealed that she had no idea what she was doing.

Still, I couldn’t help but let my eyes travel over her body. She was wearing a lace cocktail dress that hugged all her curves in all the right ways, as well as boots that reached high above her knees—nearly to the top of her thighs.

The dress left little to the imagination, and I couldn’t say that I was upset by that. She had been given lavish jewelry that looked like it belonged on her, though the way she carried herself on the stage gave her away as a newbie.

I became so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t hear when the bidding began, and once I turned my attention that way, I realized that the bids were rising quickly. Though it was more than obvious that this girl had no idea what she was doing, she was clearly a crowd favorite right from the beginning.

I was used to seeing all kinds of women at the Gatherings, and I had grown used to seeing them all looking nervous as they stood on stage. However, there were clearly some who were more nervous than others, and those were the women I had a tendency to pass on. I had no interest in a woman who was too nervous to hold her head up high, and I was very particular about that.

However, there was something about this girl in particular that caught my eye. The “first lot”, as she had been referred to as, stood out from any other woman I had seen in the past. Though I wouldn’t know her name unless I was the highest bidder, I was intrigued from the first moment I laid eyes on her.

The way she clung to her clutch; the way her eyes scanned the crowd, looking from one face to the next but not focusing on any one person in particular; the way she clearly was forcing herself to stay put, though it was clear that she would rather be anywhere else than on that stage right then—these were all things that I ravenously enjoyed.

At last, the bids began to dwindle, and I could see that Mr. Boerner was looking rather smugly around the room as he settled into the confidence of thinking he was going to be the highest bidder. That was when I made my move. I didn’t have anything against the older man, but I wanted to meet this girl for myself; if he won, that opportunity would be lost to me.

I had every intention of leaving L.A. as early as possible the next morning, which only added more pressure to the situation; if I wanted to have a hope of catching this girl, I was going to have to be the highest bidder—something that just so happened to be what I did best.

After a light flick of my hand, Cora looked over and saw me place my bid. I listened with satisfaction as the murmur swept through the crowd. They all knew that, once I entered the ring, it was going to be impossible for anyone else to win. The girl standing up on the stage looked as though she were wondering about the murmur that ran through the crowd herself, but there was so much going on in the room, she didn’t have much time to focus on that one thing.

A few others tried their luck, but everyone knew that the moment I started the competition, I had won. They were quick to subside and allow me to take over, which I proudly did. It was music to my ears when Cora announced that the girl—Miss Shadows—would be mine for the evening. But, even then, I knew that my battle was only half over.

As I walked over to greet her, coming off the stage, I felt a twinge of something in my stomach. Part of me wondered if it was nerves, but I was quick to brush off such an absurd notion. I never got nervous around anyone, and certainly not around a girl I had just paid good money for.

I put on my most charming smile as she stopped directly in front of me, eager to break the ice. I could see she was still on edge, but it appeared to me that the attraction I had felt for her was reciprocated.

After asking her if I could buy her a drink, we headed to the bar. This was going to be an interesting night, indeed.