Chapter 2: The Billionaire Match

MADDISON

I didn’t plan to end up here. But there I was, sitting in the icy glass lobby of The Billionaire Escort house, legs tapping nervously.

I’d run straight from Chad’s humiliation. No bags. No charger. Just my cracked phone and the card.

“You’ve got something rare, darling.” Ms. Sinclair had said, with a little smirk. Call that number when you’re ready to stop struggling.

Everyone who worked downtown café shifts had heard the whispers. About Mrs. Sinclair. About the girls who vanished and showed up months later in Chanel.

Now I was one of them.

Two hours after dialing, I was matched. No interview. No waiting list. Just one call. I signed the Escort Agreement.

And I got him. Corian Van Halen.

Didn’t even know who the hell he was.

But he came with a contract and a million-dollar payout.

Six zeros.

A nurse in pink scrubs appeared, beaming like she’d just won the lottery. "Congrats, Ms. Summers. Blood’s clean."

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel about that.

She continued. “And you don’t have to worry about Mr. Van Halen. We always make sure our client’s blood work is clean too.”

I forced a smile, lips barely moving. “Great.”

Then she looked at me, really looked at me like she was sizing me up. “You’re officially the luckiest girl alive. Corian Van Halen.... and on your first match? And for a million?"

Was that supposed to make me feel better? “Thanks… I guess.”

I wouldn’t use luck to describe me. I mean just look at my life.

There’s nothing lucky about me.

She then pulled out a small white box. Held it out like a party favor.

“Here. An escort’s best friend.”

I blinked at it.

Didn’t reach.

Just stared at it like it might explode in my hand.

She arched a brow. “Escort babies are strictly prohibited.”

My throat closed. “Birth control?”

“Of course.” She laughed, like I was being silly for even asking.

My cheeks burned. I took the box.

Hands shaking.

Mind racing.

God.

This was real.

“Charity will take you to the grooming room.” she added with a soft smile, tilting her head toward the tall, elegant blonde beside her. “We want you perfect for him.”

Charity looked like she walked off a Dior runway.

All cheekbones and cold perfume.

She didn’t smile. Just nodded once, like she had work to do and I was the job.

I nodded back, knees weak, throat dry.

Followed her down the long glass hallway like I was marching into something I couldn’t take back.

Hours later, I stood before a mirror that cost more than my dad’s entire studio. Black backless silk dress, thigh high slit. Hair curled to one side of my face. Red lips. Chin up, spine straight.

The door creaked. I turned away from the mirror. A tall, sharp woman walked in like a boss who didn’t care what people thought. Tight bun. Tight suit. Cold voice.

Ms. Sinclair.

She checked me out… and her lips curled with a dark smile that made me shiver. "Ms. Summers," she said, offering her hand. "I was right about you. Your match is the fastest ever recorded. Corian Van Halen is very hard to please. He’s never picked a girl for more than a day before. And you get a whole month. I knew you were something.”

They made him sound like Zeus on a throne of gold. And I was just Cinderella… supposed to feel lucky the crown even glanced my way.

I took her hand, trying to calm my raging nerves. “Thank you, Ms. Sinclair.” I guess.

She stepped closer. "You’re burning up, darling.

“I am sorry, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

She gave a polite smile. “Firsts are always nerve-wracking. But you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re exactly what Mr. Van Halen requested.”

Just the sound of his name gave me chills. Something about his name made him feel like a storm I might not survive.

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Just a few things.” Her tone changed, like she was levelling me up. “Corian is our most expensive client. You can’t mess this up. The contract is one month. No early exits. No second guesses. You’ll get paid in two installments. Your first check will clear in two weeks and the rest after the contract is complete. And finally, the customer is always right.” She summed up her words so fast she didn’t pause to take a breath and then a crisp intimidating smile followed. “Do you understand, Ms. Summers?”

It wasn't like I had a choice in the matter.

“Yes, Ms. Sinclair.”

“Good.” She nodded once. “Your car is waiting.”

I followed her to the hallway.

You can do this, Maddie. It’s just one month.

You get a million.

You save the studio.

You clear your school debt. You forget about Chad.

You move on.

My breath shook. But I nodded. My entire body felt like jelly as I walked out of the building. The car outside was sleek black, windows tinted, engine already humming.

A man, tall and huge, stepped out to open the door. Dark suit. “Ms. Summers? I’m Ausley. I’ll be taking you to Mr. Van Halen.”

I nodded a smile, slid into the backseat. Leather swallowed me. Ausley sat in front, didn’t start the car right away.

“Nervous?" he asked.

His voice was normal like we were going for a ride on a regular Tuesday.

I blinked at the rearview mirror. He was watching me. Calm. No judgment.

I let out a shaky breath. "That obvious?"

His mouth twitched into a half-smile.

Like he didn’t need to answer.

Like I already knew.

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, embarrassed. “Right,”

Totally exposed. Totally busted.

My fingers curled into fists on my thighs.

“If it helps, you’re not the first girl I’ve picked up from that house. But you’re the first one they rushed through the system.”

“Why?” I asked, feeling my heart race hard in my chest. “Why did he choose me?”

All I could hear was Chad’s voice in my head, ‘You’re frigid. You’re not built to please a man’

So why would a billionaire look at my picture and say ‘yes, that one.’

Ausley shrugged slightly. Still smooth on the wheel.

“I guess you ticked all his boxes.”

Pause.

“Corian doesn’t do second guesses. He picks once.”

Just once.

And somehow, that once… was me.

Silence. Then I asked the one thing that had been burning at the back of my mind.

“What’s he like?”

Ausley’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “You’ll see.”

The car pulled into a long, silent driveway. The gates opened automatically.

The house? Looked like a castle.

I wasn’t ready

But it was too damn late to run..

My stomach flipped.

Soon, I was inside.

And holy hell.... It looked like a museum. Massive. Quiet. Expensive.

High ceilings. Jet-black walls. Floors that shimmered like oil.

Dark velvet chairs that looked like they belonged to villains and kings.

Everything screamed one thing…. Luxury.

But also danger.

My breath hitched, and everything in me screamed, RUN.

Until I saw it, a painting—no, a masterpiece—mounted in the center of the main wall.

It was huge. Bleeding dark colors and chaos and something tragic.

It wasn’t just art.

It was something else.

The collector in me couldn’t resist. My hand moved on instinct. Just to touch. Just to feel.

“Don’t touch that,” came a rough commanding voice from behind me.

I spun around, hand snapping away from the portrait like a thief caught stealing the painting

That must be him.

Corian Van Halen.... my billionaire match.

Standing over there like a dark storm in a suit, Stormy green eyes locked on me like I already belonged to him.