Auctioned to the Billionaire Stalker (West Bay Billionaires #2)

Prologue

Jack

Mainly because I was stalking her. I knew where she’d be at all times.

I’d bought a house near hers. I knew her class schedule at West Bay University.

I knew the sidewalks she jogged on, the times she’d exercise, the smoothie shop she frequented, the foods she hated, the people she talked to, all the men she’d ever dated.

I knew everything about her. Everything.

How did I become a stalker? Well, I blamed tomato soup and an ill-timed golf tournament.

Before Daisy, I’d never believed in stalkers.

I hadn’t understood them. Every now and then I’d hear about one doing some horrible thing in the name of love and being arrested.

Then I’d wonder what in the world had led that person to become so captivated by someone that they’d do anything to get their attention. I had thought it was pathetic.

How could anyone be obsessed with someone to the point of having to know every detail about them? Following them? Tracking them?

No. That hadn’t even been in the realm of possibilities for me.

I’d never even had a crush on anyone. Women threw themselves at me, I fucked them if I wanted to, then I moved on.

End of story. It had been that way since I was in my late teens and had discovered that I really enjoyed fucking.

I’d never understood the concept of romantic love, though.

It had seemed ludicrous to me, and I suspected people were making it up.

That it was one big conspiracy dreamed up by the wedding industry. Or the Valentine’s Day card marketers.

I’d been oblivious about love.

Until the day Daisy Tiller crashed into me and spilled my tomato soup all over the pair of us.

I had looked at her, irate, ready to cuss her out or demand she be fired from her deli delivery job.

But something happened when my eyes met hers.

It was as if I could see her soul, her very essence. And then she’d smiled at me.

And my entire world had turned upside down.