Page 35 of The Lies Always Told

Even though they complement each other and they look amazing together, there’s little to no chemistry between them, or at least none that I can see. His body is stiff. Yes, his hand is touching her lower back, but it doesn’t caress her skin like he did guidingme.

She’s comfortable around him, and when he smiles to the camera, she keeps her mouth straight and her gaze deadly.

The gala is a masquerade, so they’re both wearing masks, but how can you miss him? His strong, freshly shaven jaw, the way he stands confident and powerful, and his midnight stare looking straight into my soul through the screen. My skin prickles at the mere sight of this man, making me question ever saying no to him. I’m left with zero doubts on what I need to do next.

“I gotta go,” I tell the girls, and Bee laughs as Victoria says goodbye. I don’t care that they know exactly what happened. I need to get there, quick. Volatile? Yes. Do I care? Apparently not.

I hop out of bed and message Martin, the driver Gus toldme I could call any time I needed to go somewhere. Then, I start getting ready for this event and hope they allow people to show up last minute.

Well,five hundred dollars later, I’m sitting at a table at this fancy fundraiser, wearing a dress I stole from Cara’s closet. The best part about having an older sister with the same body type as you. It’s an emerald green gown with a deep v-cut, showcasing my sternum and my collarbone tattoo perfectly. It has a slit up to my mid-thigh, sheer panels throughout. Cara’s taller than me, so I had to wear the highest heels I could find so I wouldn’t drag this dress across the floor. I top it off with black high heels and a black mask I found in her room to make me look lethal.

I’ve been scanning the buzzing room since I got here, and I haven’t seen Gus. The blonde from the livestream is sitting at one of the tables, but the chair beside her has been empty. I grab my phone from the black clutch and message him. I changed his contact name to DLS, short for Dirty Little Secret, from a day I kept texting and deleting a text all day. I needed to make fun of the situation, for my sake.

Me: Remember when you said money was to be spent?

DLS: Hello to you too, Nellie. Yes, I remember.

Me: How do you feel about your money being spent for a good cause?

DLS: It’s the best investment. Why?

Because I’m about to bet on a date with you, and I’m hoping you’ll pay if it’s more than I can afford.He said he wanted me to, so I’m just following his wishes.

Me: Even if it’s your money?

DLS: Especially if it’s my money. Why do I feel like I’m not going to like where this is going?

I’m sure I missed something, because by the time I entered the room, there were plates being removed from tables and glasses taken away. I’m starting to wonder if I missed most of it, but at the soft murmur of the crowd fading to a hush as the heavy velvet curtains at the back of the stage slowly pull open, I know the auction is about to start. It’s show time.

Gus steps out from the shadows, tall and confident, his posture straight but casual, the way someone who is used to being watched holds themselves. His hair is just a little too perfect, and the sharp lines of his jaw catch the light in a way that makes the room hold its breath. He’s wearing the tailored suit I saw on the live, but in person, I can see how it hugs his frame in all the right places. I’m sure at this moment, it’s worth whatever the cost. His eyes scan the crowd as he walks toward the podium, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something about the way he moves, almost as though he’s gliding, as if this moment is routine to him, and not like he’s stopping everyone in their tracks as we look at him. Cool, cool, cool.

The stage lights shine down, casting a warm glow on his perfectly tawny skin. He stops at the podium, his gaze lingering on the crowd like he’s searching. Searching for what, Gus? His presence is magnetic, and for a second, the room feels smaller, like everyone’s leaning in just a little closer, drawn to him and everything he represents—class, effortless confidence, money, power.

The auctioneer stands beside him, nodding, a practiced grin on her face. I guess we’re starting with the date.Cool, cool, cool.Gus turns toward her for a moment, flashing her his panty-melting smile, and she immediately blushes. Good to see I’m not the only one completely smitten by a simple smile from this man. My confidence goes out the window when I realize he doesn’t smile like that just for me. I’m not an idiot; I didn’t assume he was as starstruck with me as I am with him, but a girl can dream.

“Alright, alright, folks,” the auctioneer calls. “We’ve seen plenty of great items up for bidding tonight, but now, we get to the main event. Let’s talk about a special…experience. A once-in-a-lifetime chance. The gentleman you see here beside me is no ordinary man. We’re talking about a one-on-one date with none other than Augusto Zabana. Let it be known that Mr. Zabana has been a donor to our cause for years, and every year, this is our highest bidding experience, so get the paddles ready. The lucky winner will get dinner, conversation, and a surprise I’m sure will make a night to remember.” So it did start before. Shit, I almost missed his bid.

Gus tilts his head, that knowing smile of his never quite fading. His gaze flickers across the crowd, making brief eye contact with a few people in the front row. He looks like a man used to being admired, desired, and he knows exactly how to wield that power to his advantage.

“Let’s start the bidding at five thousand,” the auctioneer announces.

Immediately, hands shoot up around the room, the competitive energy palpable. The first bid comes in at five thousand, then another voice rises, offering five hundred more. Gus doesn’t react, doesn’t even blink, as the numbers start climbing. Holy shit, I’m outbid already.

“Five thousand five hundred!” someone calls.

“Six thousand!” another voice shouts.

Gus shifts his weight slightly, uncrossing his arms, though he remains perfectly composed. The bidding picks up momentum, numbers rising as the audience gets caught in the thrill.

“Seven thousand!” comes a call from the back, a man’s voice cutting through the chatter. Holy shit, okay. Wrong from me to assume only women would be bidding.

“Seven thousand five hundred!” a woman at the front counters, and there’s a subtle chuckle from Gus, as though he’s enjoying the show.

“Eight thousand!” someone else calls out, their voice full of determination, almost as if the idea of losing Gus’ attention is unbearable.

“Eight thousand five hundred.” The voice is confident, firm, and the crowd quiets as it lands, the number hanging in the air like a challenge.

The auctioneer holds up a hand to signal the highest bid then looks to Gus, who finally breaks his gaze from the audience to glance at the auctioneer. There’s a small, almost imperceptible nod, and the auctioneer’s grin widens.

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