The Auction

CLUB INDULGENCE DUET: BOOK ONE

Cover Reveal Coming Soon!

Destroying my partner became sweeter when his daughter stepped on stage at a charity auction.

But I don’t want her for a month.

I’m upping my bid to make her sign for a year.

Her strong will, independence, and defiant attitude toward her family indulges my carnal desires and need for revenge.

I’ll break her, train her, and turn her into the compliant woman she didn't know existed within her.

Every second, she’ll be my pawn in the secret game of retaliation I’m going to win.

Then I’ll present her as my pet to all of L.A., including her father.

After our year is up, the damage will be done.

She’ll be free to go, and I’ll move forward with my life without her father, or anyone associated with him in it—including her.

Schemes Unleashed is the first book of the Club Indulgence Duet. It’s a forbidden love, age-gap, dark billionaire romance with forced proximity.

Click to get your copy of The Auction, Club Indulgence Duet's Book One!

The Auction Prologue

Riggs Madden

Seven Years Ago

"Riggs?" Hugh Gallow nudges me, pulling me out of my trance. I've barely heard a word of my business partner's stifling conversation for the last few minutes.

It's his daughter Blakely's fault. She stepped into the garden wearing a nude slip dress and matching four-inch designer stilettos. Her blonde hair cascades along her shoulders in long curls, and when her blue eyes met mine, she quickly broke our stare as if she were caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Since then, I've been too captivated to tear my eyes off her, pleased every time I catch her gazing my way and trying to pretend she's not looking at me.

The attraction between us started three years ago. She turned eighteen and was no longer Hugh's little girl. It didn’t take long for me to notice the little flush in her cheeks when she glanced at me or her nervous finger tapping on whatever she could find to torment. Her usual victims consist of a table or her thighs, the latter of which I'm dying to get between. Right now, her champagne flute is taking a beating.

Hugh demands, "Riggs, confirm my numbers."

I clear my throat, recover from my absence, and answer, "That's right. We're up over thirty percent." I down the rest of my scotch and add, "Excuse me. The men's room is calling." I escape Hugh and the circle of his stuck-up friends he's always trying to impress, hightailing it to the restroom, glad to exit their presence.