Stella's POV
"Adam, please..." My voice trembled as his grip tightened on my wrists. "Not here."
His laugh was devoid of warmth. "Suddenly shy, Mrs. Lancaster?"
As he leaned closer, I could smell the Scottish whiskey on his breath. His usual self-control was crumbling at the edges.
"You're drunk," I tried to reason with him, even as his other hand traced down my side. "You don't want to—"
"Don't tell me what I want." His voice dropped to that dangerous register that always made my pulse race, but this time from fear rather than attraction. "You seemed to know exactly what you wanted with Brian."
"That's not—" But my protest died as his hand slipped under my dress, forcing me to meet his gaze. The hurt beneath his anger made me catch my breath.
"Please," I whispered, hating the tremor in my voice. "Can we go somewhere else? At least somewhere different."
Otherwise, I felt no different from those prostitutes.
Something flickered in his eyes at my words. When he noticed the tears threatening to spill from my eyes, his grip loosened slightly. Without warning, his hand covered my eyes.
"Mr. Lancaster?"
"Don't cry," his voice was tense.
A plan formed through my panic. If I could just get him to listen... "I'll do anything you want. Just... help me save Grandmother. Please."
His hand dropped from my eyes, but his body still trapped me against the wall. "Anything?"
I nodded desperately, clinging to this thread of hope. "Luke can save her. You could—"
"Luke." His laugh held no humor. "Why would I help? I'm not a charity."
Adam took a drag from his cigarette, blowing out a smoke ring. "Miss Winston, that's not how business is done."
He wasn't calling me Mrs. Lancaster anymore, but Miss Winston. He was mocking my earlier refusal.
If I had been willing earlier, naturally I could have gotten Luke's contact information. But now, the negotiation dynamics had changed. He could demand more in return.
I silently stared at him, waiting for his price - his demands. Whatever he asked, I would try to meet it.
When he finally pulled back, his smile was pure predator. "Dance by the window. If your auction price reaches a hundred thousand, I'll convince Luke for you."
I knew the Santorini Resort held dancer competitions every Saturday night, with the most popular dancer receiving extra rewards. But for him to make me dance...
"What?"
Horror washed through me as his meaning sank in. "You're auctioning off your own wife?"
"My wife?" His smile could have frozen hell. "Who knows whose woman you'll end up being? Brian's perhaps?"
The slap echoed through the suite before I could stop myself. "You bastard!"
His jaw clenched, but he didn't retaliate. Instead, he stepped back, gesturing to the windows overlooking the club below. "Your choice, Miss Winston. Dance, or find another way to save your grandmother."
My hands shook as I reached for the zipper of my evening gown. The silk whispered against my skin as I modified it into an off-shoulder piece that would allow movement.
"Time starts now." Adam's voice carried that edge of command that always made my pulse jump. "Make it worth their money."
Years of dance training took over as I began to move. The music from below provided a sensual beat as I flowed through a modern dance routine. Each movement was precise, calculated to draw the eye without being vulgar.
Through my tears, I caught glimpses of Adam in the window's reflection. His expression remained carefully neutral, but his hands gripped the chair's armrests with white-knuckled force.
I finished my final pose, still catching my breath. Suddenly, Adam stood and wrapped an arm around my waist, which he could easily control with one hand.
I was so shocked I almost stopped breathing, looking at Adam in bewilderment. The scorching heat from his palm invaded through my skin, leaving me too rigid to move.
His gaze traveled from my face down to my neck, and lower... That blatant stare made me feel exposed, as if I'd lost all my clothing under his scrutiny.
"Mrs. Lancaster, have I failed to satisfy you, leaving you so desperately eager to sell yourself? Hmm?"The last syllable lifted slightly as he leaned in close.
I could feel his warm breath mingling with my pants against my face. I could see his eyelashes, long and thick but straight, not appearing feminine. Yet those deep dark pupils were like an unfathomable lake, making one's heart tighten, afraid of drowning in them.
"How could that be?" I finally came to my senses, looking directly into his eyes so close to mine, forcing a smile. "Mr. Lancaster isn't really disabled in his legs, so how could he fail to satisfy me? I'm quite content."
See, this was my training as the former top socialite. Even after dancing such an alluring dance, I could still say such things with an unchanged expression!
"Perhaps I should let my mother see how proper and dignified her daughter-in-law is."
At the mention of my respected elder, my expression finally changed slightly, revealing some embarrassment as an uncontrollable awkwardness crept onto my cheeks.
"Adam, you're disrupting my clients' bidding. If no one bids over a hundred thousand, will you take responsibility?" I tried to push him away, but my strength seemed insignificant before him.
"So you'll go with whoever's willing to pay? Hmm?" Adam's voice contained hidden danger and warning.
"Isn't that what you wanted to see?" I countered. What nonsense! I secretly laughed to myself.
I started struggling, saying coldly: "I've danced, you've humiliated me, shouldn't you let me go now?"
I was eager to check the bidding situation in the hall, but was shocked to find the auction had already started, with bids reaching one hundred and thirty thousand.
Yet, the people downstairs seemed unable to see my struggle with Adam? Could they... really not see?
This realization and speculation left me stunned, unable to react quickly. "How could they possibly—"
"Taylor will contact you tomorrow." He cut off my words, releasing me.
I wanted to ask for clarification, but Adam's emotionless face clearly said "Better leave while I'm in a good mood."
...
As I went downstairs, I had cursed Adam as a bastard countless times in my mind.
Forcing his wife to dance in public, making me an auction item. Calling him a bastard was putting it mildly!
Walking from the third floor back to the first, the deafening music hit me again, the dance floor a blur of lights and color.
A pole dancer was performing on stage, met with cheers from the men below, the atmosphere electric.
And about five or six meters above the stage was the room where Adam and I had just been!
Looking out from the third floor, those were transparent floor-to-ceiling windows. But from the first floor, they were one-way mirrors. My dance had been invisible to those below, and the auction's subject wasn't me at all, but the dancers downstairs. I hadn't been put up for auction like merchandise.
At least he was still a man after all.
\---
The next morning, the hospital corridors seemed endless. My body ached from tension, my mind replaying last night's events like a broken record.
"Mrs. Lancaster?" A nurse appeared beside me. "Dr. Morgan's team has arrived."
Relief made my knees weak. He'd actually done it. Despite everything, Adam had kept his word.