Buying the Heiress Read online

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Epilogue

  CHAPTER ONE

  Buying the Heiress

  Stella Stone

  Contents

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Epilogue

  HOT Recluse

  CHAPTER ONE

  Buying the Heiress

  Copyright © 2018 by Stella Stone

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs. Cassy Roop. http://www.pinkinkdesigns.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All sexually active characters in this story are over the age of 18 years old. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.

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  About the Author

  Stella Stone is a penname for an already establish author who wants to write Simply. Sexy. Stories.

  She is a mother of two boys, and wife to a bearded hubby, residing in a rural Texas town. During the day she writes sexy stories while her children are at school. In the afternoon, she is chauffeur, Taekwondo observer, loud baseball, basketball and cheering swim mom.

  Enjoy her Simply. Sexy. Stories and the Alpha men she enjoys creating.

  “There’s a big difference between falling in love and being in love. There’s a big difference between infatuation and falling in love.”

  -Phil McGraw

  CHAPTER ONE

  STERLING

  Aldrich looks at me, his dark eyes never showing an ounce of his emotion. He’s fucking creepy like that. You never know what the man is thinking, and I’ve known him my entire life. I watch as he brings the scotch to his lips, taking a drink without ever looking away. I let out a huff of air.

  “Why in the hell would you even want to go to something like that? Why in the fuck would I?” I grunt. Rich shrugs, but there is so much fucking more to it, he just doesn’t want to tell me. “You could have any woman you want. Society slut on down. Why pay good money for some snatch?”

  I watch as he sets his drink down and stands, straightening his jacket. His dark eyes finding mine and then he finally speaks. “We can buy anything we want, Sterling. We can do whatever we want. I’m fucking bored. I need a challenge.”

  “Then start a new company,” I suggest.

  He rolls his eyes to the ceiling and then brings them back to me. “I’ve done it all, we’ve done it all. I need a new high, and I want to try this,” he says. “You don’t have to buy into it. Just come with me.”

  Thinking about his words, I let them roll around in my head for a minute. He’s right. We can buy anything. We can and have done, whatever we’ve pleased since the day we were born. We’ve built multi-million-dollar companies from the ground up, more times than I could count.

  Aldrich is searching for a new high, for something to hold his interest for longer than a fleeting moment. I get that.

  Boy do I fucking get it.

  I don’t necessarily agree with his ludicrous idea, but I also don’t think he’s doing it because he’s a sick fucker. He’s lonely, and he’s searching.

  “I’ll go with you,” I announce, standing as well. He smirks and lifts his chin slightly. “But I’m not participating in this shit. For the record, I think you’re playing with fire.”

  “My driver will arrive at ten. Auction begins promptly at eleven,” he states. I lift my chin as he turns around and walks away.

  I don’t follow behind him, choosing to instead, go to the bar and order another round. I have a feeling that I’ll be needing it for later tonight. I can’t believe that I’m going along with this shit.

  Fuck.

  If anybody in the media gets ahold of this, we’re fucking done for.

  This could ruin us, both of us.

  How is it going to look having two of the youngest, wealthiest, eligible bachelors going to a fucking dungeon to look at possibly purchasing a woman?

  Christ.

  I feel a hand land on my shoulder and I jump slightly, turning my head to the side I grin. “Sully,” I chuckle. His hand drops from my shoulder as he raises it to signal the bartender.

  “A little early in the day for you to be drinking, isn’t it Sterl?” he asks. The bartender brings over a glass with his drink already poured.

  I shrug. “Probably, it is Friday though,” I mutter.

  He chuckles, taking a healthy swig of whatever concoction, he’s currently obsessed with. Whitaker Sullivan has an addictive personality. Luckily, he’s never been one for hard drugs, otherwise I could see him spending every damn dime of his money on dope. No, he’s more into adrenaline rushes, and booze.

  “You okay?” he asks, his voice dipping slightly.

  I’m not okay, I’m fucking nervous, but I don’t tell him that. If he heard about this auction Rich is dragging me to, he’d want to join, and the last thing Whitaker needs to do is join us. The paparazzi follow him around twenty-four-seven. He’s always up to some kind of newsworthy shit.

  Reaching out, I squeeze his shoulder. “I’m good. Hey, I gotta head out. See you around?” I murmur setting my empty glass down.

  “Lunch on Monday?” he asks.

  I lift my chin in agreement and turn around. Leaving him at the bar I decide to head home. I have ten hours before Aldrich picks me up for this really fucking bad idea of his.

  TILLY

  My wrists are bound. I’m alone, I think. I have a blindfold on, so I don’t really know. What I do know is that, I’m pissed the fuck off, and my parents are assholes.

  Also, I don’t have my phone, and that pisses me off, too. In fact, everything about this is so fucked up that I should be terrified, but instead, I’m just mad.

  Being angry is a lot easier than being scared—so, I choose anger over fear right now.

  “Stand,” a deep voice demands.

  I cle
nch my jaw to keep from telling him to go fuck himself as I try to scramble to my feet. It isn’t easy with my hands bound, the dickface.

  Once I’m standing, I feel myself being tugged forward by my bound wrists. He leads, turning several corners before I feel my body flying through the air, and I land on my side. I growl in my throat, trying my hardest to stop myself from screaming at him.

  “Fix her up. They’ll come and view her in an hour,” he snaps. I hear a door slam and then my blindfold is slowly lifted from my face.

  A woman stares back at me, a vacant look in her eyes. I open my mouth to speak, to ask her for help, but she shakes her head as though she knows exactly what I’m going to say. “Don’t bother. The room is under surveillance.”

  “What happens, now?” I whisper, feeling completely deflated.

  Her dead eyes lift to mine and she gives me a ghost of a smile. “Now, you pay off your parent’s debts.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  STERLING

  A car pulls up my drive promptly at ten. It’s not Aldrich’s though. Leaving my home, I hurry down the cobblestone staircase. Lifting my chin to the driver, I slip into the backseat after he opens the door for me. Once I’m inside the backseat of the car, I glance to my left, expecting to see him but I’m face-to-face with our friend, Connery.

  “What the fuck?” I whisper.

  Connery laughs. “Who do you think got you boys invites to this shit?” he asks.

  I groan, realizing we must be in Connery’s car. I thought that maybe Aldrich had hired a service for tonight, secretiveness and all.

  Connery has been part of our circle for only a few years, as the newest member, I haven’t known him as long as I’ve known Aldrich, or Whitaker.

  He’s more new money, rather than old, like us. He made a mint in Silicon Valley, now I think he invests in different technology things. He’s a private guy and never has been very open. I haven’t ever questioned what kind of guy he is until just now.

  “This something you do often?” I ask.

  Rich turns around, clearing his throat, but I don’t take my eyes off of Connery. “I’ve attend the auctions when they have them. Typically, they have one every month, first Friday of the month. I’ve never purchased before,” he admits, pushing his glasses up his nose a bit. “Sometimes they’ll have more than one a month, depending on their, merchandise.”

  “Why haven’t you purchased before?” I ask, sitting back in my seat. I keep my gaze firmly placed on his.

  Connery shrugs, “I usually don’t see anything that I have to have. I want unique. I want special. I’m tired of the same woman sharing my bed.”

  “Owning a woman, that is what you want?”

  Aldrich chuckles, “Out of all the men that go to shit like this, Sterl, I would think that us three will probably treat them better than anybody else.”

  My head slowly turns to him as I think about his words. He’s not wrong. I may not know everything there is to know about Connery, but I’ve never seen him do anything unsavory. I’ve known Aldrich my entire life, and I know he’d never hurt a fly, not unless that fly asked for it.

  “You’re a bunch of fucking adrenaline junkies,” I grunt.

  They both laugh at my words, the intensity of the car slowly fading away. When we pull up to our destination, I notice that it’s in the shitty side of town, and we’re at an unmarked brick building.

  Fuck.

  We’ll be lucky if we make it out of here alive.

  “Ready, boys?” Connery asks.

  Aldrich looks back and there’s an excited gleam in his eyes. The fucker is excited at the idea of purchasing a woman. I shake my head.

  Connery hands us each a card. “This is your ticket in. Each woman will be on display behind a big piece of one-way glass. She won’t be able to see you, but you can see her. She’ll have a number pinned to her somewhere. You write down the one you want and then they’ll collect them and the men who turn in their cards will be ushered into a bidding room. I’ve never been, so I don’t know what exactly happens behind those doors,” he chuckles.

  “Doubt I’ll know either,” I grunt.

  Aldrich snorts. “We’ll see.”

  We don’t say anything else as we exit the car, our cards in hand. Both Aldrich, and I, allow Connery to lead the way.

  He knocks on the door and a hulking man, who is obviously security murmurs something to him. I hear him reply, but I don’t know what he says. Whatever he said must be what the guard wanted to hear, he steps to the side and allows us entry.

  I’m surprised by the room once we enter. It isn’t dark and dank like I had anticipated. In fact, the walls are gold, they shimmer in the lighting. The carpeting is gold as well, but the leather sofas are black. They all face a large piece of glass, I assume this is where the women will be displayed.

  A woman in a gold bikini walks by carrying a tray of champagne. The three of us quickly snag one and I gulp mine in about two seconds. I’m nervous, and I have no fucking clue why. I shouldn’t be. I’m not doing a fucking thing tonight but watching.

  The lights dim, and a voice calls over the loud speaker asking everybody to please take a seat. Connery, Aldrich, and I make our way toward the sofa that is the furthest in the back. Once we’re seated, and the other ten men in the room are as well, low music begins to play throughout the space and light behind the glass flips on to reveal the women.

  My breath is stolen when my eyes land on a woman in a bright red bra and panty set.

  TILLY

  The lights are bright, and fucking hot, the instant they flip on. I stare ahead but all I see is a reflection of myself. My blonde hair is actually styled really pretty, in a forties type wave. Whoever does the hair here has her shit on lockdown. My makeup is the same, very forties with dark eyes and bright red lips. I actually love it.

  The rest of me? Not so much. I’m wearing a bright red push up bra, and some see through red lace panties. My feet have been shoved into a pair of cheap black patent leather hooker heels. I know they aren’t couture, I could tell the instant I slid my foot inside of them.

  Mentally, I curse my parents. A debt, the fuckers. I can believe they had debts, that’s not the surprising part. Their trust funds ran out about the time I hit puberty.

  Slowly, they went through mine as well, and by the time I graduated high school we were completely broke. Nobody would know it though, not by looking at us. I had the best of everything as did both of my parents. I didn’t ask questions, maybe I should have.

  Now, I’m standing under a spotlight. What awaits me in the future I have no fucking clue, but the four women who join me in this room will all meet the same fate.

  I’ve never been scared before. You don’t have to be scared when you have status and money.

  I have neither anymore, and I’m terrified.

  CHAPTER THREE

  STERLING

  Tilly Harrington stares back at me though she can’t see me. I know her. Well, I know of her. I haven’t seen her in years, she’s about ten years younger than me, around twenty. But she’s part of our social circle. I hear Connery’s intake of breath and I assume that he’s looking at her as well.

  “Tilly Harrington,” I murmur.

  “What?” he asks, turning his head. His eyes point toward Tilly and he grunts. “Not surprising, her parents are broke as fuck, bet she’s here to line their pockets.”

  I don’t respond, my eyes still focused on the blonde bombshell standing behind the glass. I notice that a couple other men are staring in her direction too, and I let out a low growl.

  Mine.

  That little blonde is fucking mine.

  She is little, too, without the heels she probably doesn’t even reach my chest. I feel the urgent need to protect her. No way in fuck am I going to let another man have her.

  The lights behind the glass go completely out and we’re told to take our cards into the bidding room, if we have a woman who has piqued our interest.

  I quickly s
cribble down Tilly’s number, as I stand to my feet. Connery stands as well and I’m a bit surprised, since he claimed he’d been to a few of these and never found someone.

  “You find someone?” I ask.

  He lifts his chin. “We’ll see,” he murmurs.

  Aldrich lifts his glass of champagne. “See you guys soon,” he murmurs.

  Together, me and Connery, make our way to the bidding room. There are only three other men in here, so hopefully I don’t get in a bidding war for Tilly. I have no plans on leaving her behind tonight even if it costs me my entire trust.

  The room we’re ushered into is all red, and it hurts my eyes. I hope that I don’t have to stay in here too long. Finding a seat, I sink down into the leather sofa.

  A man in a tuxedo walks up to me. “Your bidding card, sir?” he asks. He’s wearing a nametag, and I glance over to Connery who lifts his chin.

  I hand him the bidding card and he hands me a numbered paddle. “When the auction begins on your chosen number, use the paddle to bid. All funds must either be in cash or wire transferred before you take the property with you, happy bidding, sir.” He repeats his speech to Connery and we watch him walk away.

  “This shit it weird,” I mutter as I lift my hips slightly and rub my sweaty palms on my suit pants.

  Connery shrugs. “It is, but no weirder than getting a foreign bride.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I think about his words. The fucker is not wrong. I never imagined walking into this building tonight and picking someone to bid on, to buy.