The Billionaire Playboy’s Secret Family
Chapter 31

The moment Marcus's eyes landed on the other masked guest he froze. He didn't even need to hear his nasally voice to recognize him: Connor Demont. Of all the people from his past Connor was the one Marcus hoped to never see again.

While Marcus and Leonard each had their share of women their trysts were always consensual. Connor on the other hand was cut from the same cloth as James Goodwell. As far as Marcus knew Connor had never drugged or raped anyone but some of the things he had heard about were just as bad. The thought of his mystery woman spending even one moment in that man's company was nauseating. He couldn't allow it.

When Connor patted his knee Marcus moved on his own and when Connor dared lay a hand on her Marcus saw only red. He didn't give Connor a chance to react as he pulled the diva away and landed the first punch. Marcus continued to pummel his would-be rival without a thought or care for how many swings Connor managed to land until security pulled them apart.

Even then all he could see was Connor and struggled to get free so he could hit him again. The mist didn't clear until she stepped in front of him. He could still feel the sting of her slap even now. When she tried pulling her away he hesitated but once he started moving it was easier to distance himself from Connor.

She tugged him into what looked like one of the semi-private areas and pulled the curtain closed before facing him, "What do you think you are doing? You can't just start a brawl!"

"Do you have any idea who that man was?" he demanded not understanding her anger. Didn't she realize he was fighting for her?

"Of course I do. Everyone does. He's a regular."

"You don't understand he's..."

"A pig. A drunk. And a pervert."

Marcus sucked in a breath. Maybe they did know.

"Why do you think he was seated at the center tables?" she asked. "It has the best camera coverage and the easiest access for security. Do you think that's his table by accident?" "What the hell are you doing with him anyway?"

"He was the highest bidder. I don't have a choice."

"Bullshit. There's always a choice."

"...Not always."

"You like it, don't you?" Marcus sneered. "You want his attention. That's why you do it."

Marcus's head snapped back reeling from another slap. Now his other cheek stung. Turning back to her he saw her eyes practically glowing with rage.

"Don't...don't you dare assume you know me. You know nothing about me."

"I'm right, aren't I?" Marcus challenged. "Why else would a person with your talent be here?"

She let out a harsh laugh that surprised him, "How could anyone like you understand? Living in your ivory tower and eating from your silver spoons...looking down on the rest of us like we're ants. The world is your oyster, you can buy anything you want while the rest of us scrimp and save and struggle to put food on the table, choosing whether to buy our kids new shoes or paying car insurance. You know nothing!"

"And this is your solution? With your talent..."

"You think I'd be here if I didn't have to be? That I would have agreed to these auctions?" she demanded. "Food is expensive. Dignity is cheap. I do what I have to do."

She sucked in a breath even as her voice cracked. Her gaze glistened with tears though he didn't know if they were from sadness or frustration, perhaps both. Without thinking what he was doing he reached for her only to have her bat his hand away. Shaking her head she struggled to hold herself together.

"Go home. You don't belong here. You're engaged, remember? Go home to your perfect stick-figure woman and your sports car and your mansion...That's where you belong."

She pushed past him and brushed through the curtains. Marcus stood his mind reeling. His thoughts were finally catching up and the realization of how wrong it all was hit him. What was he even doing here? Why was he trying to help if she didn't want it? There was no room for any doubt in his mind. She definitely knew who he was. She knew yet she still walked away from him.

Fine. If that's the way she wants it.

He stepped out from behind the curtains to replace security had worked quickly to remove the broken furniture and glasses. Everything had returned to something of a normal state. The mood had been lifted with complementary drinks and the singer on stage had started her performance over.

Laughter drew his attention to the center table where Connor was raising a glass. In front of him sat Madame Butterfly raising her own glass in a toast. More rage was bubbling up even as the hostess cautiously approached him.

Not sparing her a glance he headed for the door. He entered the small room beyond. The teller was already waiting for him as he tossed her his key and yanked off his mask.

"Here you are, sir," she returned the phone.

He grabbed it without a word and headed to the exit.

"I'd put an ice pack on that eye," she said as he was buzzed out.

Marcus paid no heed and stormed out to his car. It started with a growl as he stepped on the gas. The tires squealed as he whipped out of the parking lot. He was done with all of it.

***

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in

Sometimes I feel like giving up

But I just can't

It isn't in my blood

Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing

I'm overwhelmed and insecure, give me something

I could take to ease my mind slowly

Just have a drink and you'll feel better

Just take her home and you'll feel better

Keep telling me that it gets better

Does it ever?....

The song echoed in Regina's mind as she stepped out of the shower. She had chosen the Shawn Mendes song to lift her own spirits but it didn't have the same ring to it after the fight. It was all his fault.

She did what she had to. No one else could help her. That's just the way it was, the way it always had been, the way it always would be. What did he know?

Regina shook off her thoughts and grabbed her things. The truth was she was angry with herself. She should have been able to do something different. She couldn't shake the feeling of failure that crept into her every night. Sometimes she felt as if she had stopped trying, accepting the status quo as unchangeable. Slamming her locker closed, she headed to Mary's office.