Page 2 of Owned By a Billionaire

As I waited for a response, Alice Ponting, a girl I knew from college, waltzed into the bar with Harry, someone I’d only met briefly.

Alice had become a friend of sorts, in that she lived in the room next to mine at Oxford. I kept to myself as a rule—a habit I’d adopted from an early age. One of the few advantages of being a lone wolf was avoiding pesky questions like “What are you doing for Christmas?”

However, lone wolves sniff each other out, it would seem, because I met Rey at a bar one night when we were there alone. He’d even once told me that we were cut from a similar cloth, which prompted my first and last question about his life growing up. His evasive reply, “One’s past is best left behind,” was something I understood well, having buried my first sixteen years somewhere dark and forgotten.

Privacy and discretion meant possessing a tight rein on one’s dignity, Rey would stress. And no one understood this more than I did.

Before I met Rey, I was nothing but a hollow shell, but he taught me the ways of the world. In his eyes, being streetwise superseded any advantage gained from a college education.

College indulged my hunger for books and knowledge, which was born the moment I buried my head in a book as a child. It was my only escape from the brutal reality of living in a council flat and hearing people screaming at each other day and night. In my teens, I found a copy ofNanaon the school bus and discovered French literature, where I learned about human conditions worse than mine.

That’s when I realized the true value of books. They became that non-judgmental friend who not only understood me but made me see that when it came to misery, I wasn’t alone.

“You’re here.” Alice, always the bubbly one, seemed genuinely pleased, which baffled me, considering we hardly knew each other.

She pecked me on the cheek, and despite finding the whole kissing-and-touching thing a little awkward, I went with the flow. Must have been the gin and tonic, but my natural aloofness seemed to thaw after a few drinks.

Before I started rubbing shoulders with the upper classes, I always related touching and kissing as something one did before fucking. My foster parents never hugged each other, or me, for that matter. Bill, my foster dad, only did so once I had, in his words, ripened.

I wasn’t much better. I’d refused to hold the baby I’d given birth to all those months ago, despite the look of horror on the nurse’s face. Her expression still haunted me on sleepless nights when scenes from that hospital bed careened through my head like an out-of-control car.

“You’ve met Harry?” Alice asked in her breezy tone. The glitzy blue jacket emphasized her ebullience, while her slender frame seemed swallowed by those horrid shoulder pads.

I nodded while acknowledging her beau with a subtle smile.

Returning a warm and very handsome smile, Harry leaned in close and kissed my cheek. As he withdrew, his cologne lingered, leaving a subtle but pleasant scent of sandalwood mixed with smoky leather—a scent I associated with wealthy males, now that I’d already soaked in it.

“This is Reynard,” I said.

He bowed his head in acknowledgment and shook Harry’s hand. “We’ve met on a few occasions.”

Of course, Rey knew Harry Lovechilde. He knew every wealthy person in that city, it seemed.

“Well done on becoming dux of the class,” Alice told me, her eyes beaming like she was the one with the top grades. She turned to Harry. “Carol got a perfect score on her final-year essay.”

Harry looked genuinely pleased for me. When he smiled, his cheeks dimpled and his blue eyes radiated warmth. I felt an instant attraction. He seemed so inclusive, not snobby, like so many of the elites I’d met through Rey.

The satisfaction emanating from my benefactor’s gaze also inspired me to succeed—a drive I’d never really known until I met him. Reynard believed that beauty was best served with a well-developed mind.

It was a stroke of luck meeting Rey when I had.

Or was it?

Sometimes I wondered.

I’d done some wicked things for him… but the payoff was worth it. It meant having someone supporting me. Paying my way through college. Not to mention having a new wardrobe of designer clothes and rubbing shoulders with wealthy, well-spoken people who seemed to laugh a lot.

Nothing like that riffraff I left behind in Dalston.

Yes, I’d become a little snobby too. Fraternizing with thebestkindmade sense to me, and I was determined to make my life that way forever. Whatever it took.

I would never again return to a hell that even Dante couldn’t have imagined.

Whether driven by ego or sheer need to become someone, I couldn’t say. All that I knew was that becoming a woman of substance, as Rey recently described me as manifesting, was all that mattered.

And if that meant fucking rich older men so that Rey could seal some deal, then so be it.

“I’ve heard about your new enterprise,” Rey said to Harry.

---