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A sudden rush of confidence bursts through me because my plan might just work. Otherwise, I’m screwed.
“Why else would he order you to stay away from me, beautiful?” he counters smugly.
“Because ever since we met again, he’s enjoyed making my life hell.”
Justin's shoulders shake with silent laughter and the corners of his mouth tilt up while I roll my eyes. “You’re not so innocent yourself, Bianca. I’ve seen you challenge him back twice already. Once he sees you with me, you can expect another attack from him too.”
That’s what I’m counting on.
I’m lighting a fire and if I’m not careful, I’ll get burned too.
I should feel guilty for using Justin without letting him know, but I don’t know him well enough to trust he won’t out me to his friend. But where the fuck is Dash?
“When will the bidding start?” I ask instead, not wanting to look too eager to find Dash. I’m unable to ignore the slow awareness telling me he’s close and the longer I don’t see him, the faster my heart beats.
As much as I want him to agree to be my fake husband, I have this need to shatter his control that has only grown over the years. I want to feel it crack and crumble.
Mostly, I ache to prove him wrong.
To make him admit he’s a liar.
To torture him until he admits that he’s jealous at the thought of me with another man.
“It’s already begun,” Justin answers and I glance around, frowning at the crowd.
“Where?”
“I’ll show you.” He takes my hand and walks toward another door I missed last time. Each step makes my spine tingle with nerves and something else I don’t want to name. It’s one of those moments where every sense feels heightened. The rush of stepping into the forbidden and unknown.
Justin grips the doorknob and slides it open, silently waiting for me to amble in first. My breath gets stuck in my throat at the sight in front of me as I halt in the middle of a step. I forget about Justin walking close behind me while I glance at the six women standing on separate platforms.
All of them are beautiful and naked. Locked in a mirrored glass box.
Like prized dolls for the men to stare and bid on them.
I’m so consumed by them that the rest of the world blurs as a vision of myself in the same position rocks me to my core. It’s the natural curiosity to imagine, coursing through me as I wonder what it would be like.
Do they feel powerful or cheap? Hot or uncomfortable? Feel the need to run and hide?
I know I would run and as if I manifested it, I suddenly feel like turning and never returning. The room shrinks like someone sucked all the oxygen and replaced it with iciness and smoky mist.
His presence feels like a caress, the dark aura emanating from him before I see him. Every second moves in slow motion as I glance around, my eyes searching for him under the soft lights. I know that his eyes are already pinned on me, watching and relishing in my torment as he remains hidden.
His gaze feels enraged.
Foreboding.
Salivating.
And I can’t decide which scares me more.
Small movements from my right side cause me to look there just as Justin’s hand presses into my back. Time ceases when wild and stormy green eyes clash with my brown ones. They darken to frightening degrees when they land on his best friend’s fingers circling my waist and pulling me into him. I swallow when I realize I bit more than I bargained for. A mistake I’ll pay for dearly.
Dash lurks in the shadows like a predator.
His black Armani suit hugging his tense, muscular shoulders as he straightens to his full height. A glass of whiskey held between his long fingers while his thumb circles the rim back and forth. His expressive eyes—constantly taunting me—assess us while the rest of his face is hidden.
I don’t need to look to know his lips are flattened into a thin line as he plots his attack.
