Page 5 of Owned By a Billionaire

“He wants to make amends. He wants to invite you to a party.”

“Why don’t you go with him?” I frowned. That incident with Helmut had dredged up some dark memories.

Rey shook his head. “Not my scene.”

“But it will be mine?” I pressed.

“He’s got something I need, Carol.”

“Must I?”

He frowned. “Do you like Harry?”

I opened out my hands. “Well, yes. But he’s with Alice.”

“I can make anything happen. Just give Helmut another go.”

“I won’t fuck him, Rey.”

“He doesn’t want that.”

When I turned, there stood Helmut with his big, round bald head, his red face brimming with excitement like he hadn’t expected to see us.

They were all actors, these scheming men. All about money and power—and nothing was beneath them if they could get what they wanted.

That’s where I seemed to play a very important role.

Only… I hoped to keep this period of my life secreted away from the future I had planned for myself. A future that didn’t involve fucking randy lords and rich married men.

If I’d wanted to be an escort, I could have set myself up when I ran away from home at sixteen. But meeting Rey that one night and going with him to his exclusive Mayfair home had opened my eyes to new possibilities.

Little did I know that he would become my pimp.

I’d alluded to that fact once. The difference, as he put it, was that I only needed to fuck the occasional rich banker or lord. In return, he supplied me with somewhere nice to live, a credit card, and an Oxford education that enabled me to mingle with the privileged set.

“But won’t that sully my reputation?” I asked Rey.

“What happens behind closed doors in this scene remains there. Remember that. They leave the gossip for their bored wives.”

Having witnessed the whispers, raised eyebrows, and wicked delight at some juicy scandal or other, I shook my head. “Men gossip just as much.”

Chapter 2

“Ah,you’rehere?”Helmutsaid, as though seeing me was such a surprise.

Helmut dealt in arms, something about which I would have preferred to remain ignorant. But after overhearing the mention of Kalashnikovs, curiosity got the better of me, and I asked Rey about his interest in weaponry. He just fobbed it off, like we were talking about selling marijuana or some soft drug, saying that if Helmut didn’t, someone else would. Even as uneasy as that made me, I reminded myself that I just needed to keep climbing that social ladder.

Remaining cool, I sipped my G&T and gave Helmut a civil greeting, as if I’d forgotten about his drunken debauchery.

Rey glanced down at his gold watch. “I best be off. I’m meeting someone at my club.”

He whispered something to Helmut, who responded with a reassuring nod. Then Rey leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Remember, I’ve got big plans for you.”

Sucking back a breath, I threw him a resigned half smile. The kind a child might give a parent after being made to eat something unpalatable in return for a reward.

“I believe I owe you an apology,” Helmut said in a guttural Germanic accent.

“It took a few visits to a psychologist. But I’m getting there.” I flashed a fake smile.

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