"$500 million," Evan bids.

"$600 million," the other room counters.

The other bidder won't lose his chance with Avery so easily. The bidding price increases in increments of $100 million as if money is nothing.

"$700 million," Evan counters, asking Robert to press the bidding device down. A bodyguard comes in and whispers something to Robert and his expression becomes worried.

"Sir, it's Andrew Clifford," he whispers to Evan.

"Get the word out she's mine," Evan orders.

Robert quickly returns with a message from Andrew, "Sir, he said whoever bids the highest wins her."

"$800 million."

"Sir, Mr. Clifford has gone for $800 million," Robert whispers.

"Keep it going," Evan said with a frown, "I want to see how much longer he can afford to bid."

The screen on Evan's room reads "$1 billion."

As the prices keep skyrocketing, the discussion gets more and more heated. $1 billion is a number most could only dream about. The audience can't believe that someone would spend that for one night. They wonder if the bidding war will ever end. They can help wonder what the woman has that can make two wealthy men from respectable families squander such large chunks of the family fortune.

The host's voice booms from the stage, "$1 billion. I guess we're talking business. But I should remind you all of our rules: we have a price cap, and if the bidding reaches a certain amount, it's the goddess' decision to choose which bid she accepts."

"Oh my God, so exciting!" The crowd murmurs, "She's gonna choose the man?"

"She's sleeping with money," says a cynical voice, "Once she turns out the lights, it's all the same."

"No it's not," objects a female voice, "She'll want to choose the man who's more gifted."

Avery keeps the gun in her hand. She is stunned by the host's words and almost drops the gun.

"Do I really have to choose one of them?" she wonders.

The host continues, "The highest bids came from Mr. Howel and Mr. Clifford."

Avery frowns at the second name and examines the gun in her hands: it's the same as the one she handled in the bathroom.

Andrew's words replay in her head: "Remember me now, okay?" and "I hope we can meet soon so I can pay back what I owe you."

"Andrew Clifford?" Avery thinks skeptically, "The man looked and behaved like a desperate outlaw. What kind of money and power does he have to come up against Evan? Who is he really?"

Avery hears the sound of the lock on the cage being sprung. Two tall women open the door and haul Avery out without hesitation. Avery has recovered most of her strength and refuses to allow the women to drag her. She tucks the gun into the sash on her dress and moves to free herself from the women. The women seem to read her mind and hold her arms tightly.

"Let go!" Avery warns them, but they don't move at all.

"Lion queen, it's time to perform your duty," the women say in unison.

The host hands her the selection device with an admiring look. At the same time, a man in a private room regards Avery with a look as deep as the sea. Evan didn't expect Avery to be given a choice. If it was as simple as the highest bidder getting her, he wouldn't care who it was, but he can't imagine what Avery will do now that she's been given the choice.

He can't imagine anything that Avery wouldn't dare to do. After all, she tried to cheat on him and run away from him as bargaining chips for their divorce. Now she's wearing a mask and few recognize her; she doesn't have to worry about her reputation or what people will say. Evan can't bear the thought of her choosing another guy. He hits the handrail with such force that it shakes.

"Let them know if they dare to let Avery leave with anyone else, I'll have this club shut down within three days," Evan hisses.

There is a brief commotion on the stage and the host announces, "She has made a choice."

Avery shakes off the woman holding her on the stage and gives them the selection device. She didn't actually make any choice because she happened to touch the screen accidentally when she struggled against the women. Apparently, she chose Andrew Clifford. She wonders to herself who she would've chosen had she actually made the choice herself.

The host is in the middle of his announcement when a sudden burst of gunfire strikes the ground at his feet. Three warning shots leave holes mere inches from his shoes. The host is scared and runs off the stage with his hands thrown protectively over his head. People in the private rooms begin to scream and the general audience stampedes towards the door. They don't know who's firing the gun, but they've seen enough news stories about terrorist attacks and mass shootings to fear for their lives.

Soon the club is practically empty. Avery is left alone on the stage. She didn't run because she knew Evan was the one who fired the shots. Even if she wanted to run, she's quickly stopped by a bodyguard who jams a pistol into her waist.

Avery takes a peek at the man. She wishes she could recognize Evan's bodyguards, but he changes them on a regular basis so she hardly knows who they are. She recognizes this man as one of the men who chased Andrew into the bathroom. It suddenly occurs to her that men weren't trying to kill Andrew—they were simply looking for him. She assumes this man is one of Andrew's bodyguards then.

"Felicity Winter, we meet again so soon," Andrew says with a chuckle.

Andrew has come down from his private room and he seems to be in an excellent mood.

"You gave quite a performance just now. I'm impressed," he says, "You're worth every cent of that billion."

Avery gives him a simple glance. She doesn't expect him to recognize her in the mask—after all, they've only met once before. Andrew has changed in a formal suit that augments his noble but rakish presence. The mole in the corner of his eye is sexy and distracting.

"I didn't expect you to pay me back so soon," Avery says lightly, "Thanks, but this is quite enough. Now I'd appreciate it if you asked your men to lower their guns."

Avery is wearing a white dress, half innocent and half sexy. She sounds as if she has nothing to fear. She takes courage from the fact that a man who is willing to spend so much money on her probably doesn't plan to hurt her.

"Isn't this your job? I don't see how my bid counts as paying you back," Andrew says, "Besides, you'll regret it if you don't accept the rest of my payback."

Andrew glances at Avery's collar. The neckline is dotted with white lace and shows a generous amount of skin. Just looking at her is tempting. Andrew thinks that taming lions and spending nights with rich men are Felicity winter's profession.

"I'll gouge your eyes out if you keep looking," Avery says as she glared at him, "It's none of your business anyway. Let me go and I'll call it even."

The bodyguard puts more force on the gun against her waist.

"Wow, you're feisty," Andrew says, "I don't think I'm ready to let you get away from me so easily though. I like the challenge."

Andrew walks to her slowly with both hands in his pockets. A large group begins to surround the stage.