Chapter 35 Let's See You Try
"Gentlemen, let me introduce my newest favorite—Lucy. Look at that body, that skin... when she dances, you won't be able to take your eyes off her. Since Mr. Hamilton was kind enough to join us tonight, I thought she should give us a little show. Her signature routine. What do you say?"
The man's voice dripped with smug amusement as he let out a low whistle.
Lucy stepped obediently into the center of the room, hips swaying to the sultry beat. The sheer veil of her dress swayed with every move, teasing glimpses of the black lace underneath and the long, pale length of her legs.
The men responded with whistles and slow claps, their eyes tracking her every curve, every deliberate shift of her body.
The man with the gold-rimmed glasses leaned back, smiling like a collector showing off a prized possession.
Caroline stood at the edge of the sofa, her fingertips trembling. She didn't understand Alexander's game. He hadn't offered her a word of explanation—just ignored her entirely, as if she were invisible.
But the eyes on her from every direction told her otherwise. She wasn't invisible at all. She might be next.
When the music ended, Lucy bent at the waist, the lace and her curves catching the dim light. A few whistles cut through the air. She smiled, returning to the man's side, where he pulled her in and kissed her hard.
Only then did Alexander turn his gaze to Caroline.
"Come here." His voice left no room for refusal.
She flinched, then moved toward him.
"See over there?" He gestured with the cigar in his hand toward one side of the room.
Several racks stood there, lined with barely-there lingerie and costumes.
Caroline followed his gesture, and her face went white.
She understood now—Lucy was just the warm-up. He wanted her to strip and dance in front of all of them. He wanted to make it clear: in his eyes, she was no different from the women here.
"Go pick one you like."
"No..." She shook her head hard. "Alexander, please... don't. I don't want to..."
Her fear only drew a ripple of laughter from the men.
"Well, Alex, is this your latest? Looks sweet, but not very obedient," a bearded man teased, his gaze sliding over her.
Alexander's mouth curved faintly, his tone flat. "She? Just a toy that doesn't know the rules. Thinks a pretty face means she can forget her place."
Toy.
Even expecting the insult, the word hit her like a blow. Tears welled up instantly.
"Looks like you still haven't learned," Alexander said, watching her cry with a glint of satisfaction.
He set his glass down and signaled.
Two bodyguards stepped out of the shadows, each taking one of her arms.
"Let go! Let me go!"
She fought, but it was useless.
They dragged her to Alexander, forcing her to her knees.
Alexander leaned down, gripping her chin. "Not dancing?" His voice was low.
"Fine. Then tomorrow I'll send someone to pay your college friend, Mr. Cortes, a visit. I hear he likes adventure... cliffs, wilderness. Accidents do happen."
From his jacket pocket, he pulled several photographs and tossed them at her.
They scattered across the floor—Daniel leaving his apartment with a hiking pack, browsing gear at an outdoor store, standing at the edge of a cliff with friends.
Her eyes widened.
He was watching Daniel.
Alexander was ready to kill him.
No. Daniel couldn't be dragged into this. He was innocent.
"Don't touch him! Please! Alexander! I'll dance! I'll dance! Just don't hurt him!" Her voice broke as she begged.
His expression cooled further. "Now you know how to beg?" He shoved her aside.
"Too late. But... since you've remembered your place, I can hold off for now. However..."
He took a drag from his cigar, his eyes sweeping the room. "You're good at catching a man's attention, aren't you? Crying in the hospital for your old classmate like some tragic heroine. Well, with so many friends here tonight, you can show me exactly how much skill you have."
He pointed toward the racks. "Go change. Then dance. Until I tell you to stop."
Caroline stayed on her knees, tears blurring her vision. Whatever dignity she had left, he was tearing it apart in front of them all.
She raised a shaking hand to wipe her face.
Then she stood, unsteady, and walked toward the racks lined with humiliation.
Her fingers brushed the cold fabric, her stomach twisting violently.
Eyes closed, she grabbed one.
Black, feather-trimmed, with a sheer skirt that was almost transparent.
The feathers might cover just enough to keep her from being completely exposed.
She changed slowly.
When she stepped out from behind the screen, a few sharp intakes of breath broke the air.
Then came the stares—open, hungry.
The black lace clung to her thin frame, feathers draping across her chest and thighs. The sheer skirt didn't hide; it only deepened the suggestion.
Her pale skin and the web of scars were stark under the low, warm light—a dark kind of beauty that drew certain men in.
Someone whistled. "Come on, what are you shy about?"
Another man called out, "Isn't this how it starts? Dance well, and name your price."
Alexander sat at the center, watching with a cold, steady gaze. No sign of stopping her.
Under the weight of their eyes, Caroline stepped barefoot into the center of the room, her movements stiff...