Honey, You're a Billionaire?

Amidst the darkness, Rose could vaguely make out Jack's silhouette, But he wasn't alone in the shadows. More than a dozen figures were seated around him, their identities obscured by the gloom. Meanwhile, the women on stage feared that disobeying Jack's instructions would anger him and jeopardize their chances of earning his favor.

Remembering their purpose for coming here, one of them spoke up. "I'm willing, Mr. Finch."

"I'm willing too." "I am as well."

"We're all willing."

Once the first woman broke the ice, the others followed suit, letting go of their inhibitions. The women looked toward the shadowy area below the stage, assuming that only Jack was watching them perform. "Excellent. Then let's begin," Jack said, his tone filled with satisfaction.

After a brief discussion, the women swiftly decided on a routine they often practiced. As the music began, their graceful movements commanded the stage. Yet, their revealing costumes lent the performance an unsettling air. In the shadows beyond the stage, the watchers' eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger, like hunters selecting their prey.

No one uttered a word. In a group chat specially created for the occasion, those who had chosen their prey sent names of various flowers.

"Jasmine."

"Rose."

"Lily."

"Bellflower."

Each flower corresponded to a woman on stage.

As the performance concluded, each person in the audience finalized their decision. The women lined up on stage, their eyes fixed on the darkness below, filled with anticipation. They knew that Jack would choose his favorite flower next.

As Jack ascended the stage, his relaxed demeanor and striking looks made the women's hearts race. He was the epitome of a charming and successful young man, holding a significant position in his family's business empire.

His reputation for being generous with his public girlfriends added to his allure, making him highly sought after, even among celebrities.

Jack walked along the line of women, his gaze sweeping over them before stopping in front of one wearing a red rose in her hair. He smiled, his eyes glinting with interest.

"That red rose looks stunning on you," he said, his voice low and captivating.

He paused as if recalling who had chosen the "red rose" before letting a smile spread across his face. "May I invite you for a drink?" he asked, fixing his gaze on the woman.

The woman blushed with delight.

"Of course," she replied, a victorious smile on her face. She felt she had made the right choice with the red rose, believing that Jack favored boldness and passion. An invitation for a drink from him was precisely the opportunity she had been hoping for. "But you'll have to wait a moment," Jack added, frowning slightly.

"I don't mind waiting, Mr. Finch," she responded eagerly. She would wait as long as it took to be with him, believing it would give her a chance to win him over.

"Go ahead," Jack instructed, signaling her to follow the helper to a designated area.

The woman nodded excitedly and was about to leave when Jack leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Oh, one more thing... I prefer dim lighting. Do you understand?"

The woman froze for a moment, her face turning crimson as realization dawned on her. "Yes... I understand. I'll wait for you, Mr. Finch," she replied coyly.

The other women on stage couldn't hide their disappointment as she left. However, their spirits lifted when Jack's gaze swept over them again before finally landing on another woman.

"White jasmine... It's so pure and refreshing. Truly a breath of fresh air," Jack mused, appearing contemplative.

The woman wearing a white jasmine flower in her hair perked up, her face lighting up with hope. "I love white jasmine for the same reason! It's so pure and refreshing," she quickly said, eager to catch his favor. "But..." Jack appeared troubled.

Fearing she might miss her chance, the woman hastily interjected, "Mr. Finch, I don't mind waiting for you either."

"Hmm..." Jack glanced at her, masking a smirk of disdain with a look of consideration. He hadn't even set the trap, and she was already eager to spring it herself.

Instantly losing interest in her, he nevertheless couldn't ignore the fact that others would be interested in her. After a moment of feigned uncertainty, he chuckled.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

"Well, I can hardly refuse now, can I? How about we also have a drink?"

The woman eagerly responded, "Of course. I'll be waiting, Mr. Finch." Without waiting for further instruction, she eagerly stepped down from the stage, following the helper out of sight.

The women on stage watched the scene with bated breath, realizing that even with one woman having been chosen, the game was far from over.

There were still opportunities to catch Jack's or perhaps someone else's attention. Encouraged, they began speaking up, one by one.

"Mr. Finch, the lilies are beautiful, too..."

"Mr. Finch, the bellflowers are lovely..."

"Mr. Finch..."

The woman with the lilies had caught the eye of the heir of Lowe Group, while a scion of the Hunt family favored the woman with the bellflower. Jack's expression grew subtly amused as he considered the situation.

These friends of his hailed from prominent families within Regalia. Yet, despite their noble lineage, these young men were notorious. playboys, known more for their indulgence in pleasures than for any significant achievements.

"Well then... let's all have a drink. It's just a drink, but you'll have to wait a bit longer." Jack maintained his polite smile, giving the impression that it was all just about sharing a casual drink.

All the women except one excitedly left the stage. Jack looked quizzically at the remaining woman. "You... don't want a drink?"

Clad in the most conservative "gown" amongst them, she felt a tinge of humiliation under Jack's gaze.

She hadn't wanted to be there in the first place, and even when Jack asked them to choose flowers, she hadn't participated. It was only when a friend handed her a small white daisy and coaxed her insistently that she reluctantly joined them.

She had believed it to be just another ordinary gathering hosted by Jack, and even as she donned the "gown," she thought he wouldn't choose her, so she had no reason to be afraid. However, she now realized the unsettling truth. This wasn't merely about choosing a bride. There was more to it than that.

"I'm allergic to alcohol, so I can't drink. Mr. Finch, may I leave?" All she desired at that moment was to escape.

However, her subtle, yet palpable, resistance intrigued Jack. It reminded him of Yvonne, who had also resisted him that night.

He couldn't quite understand his own reaction. Glancing at the small white daisy on the woman's head, he smiled politely, looking every bit the refined gentleman.