His eyes—sharp and ice-cold just a second ago—shifted when they landed on me.
Softer and warmer. Almost… concerned?
No. I was probably imagining things.
He reached out, his fingers gently touching my cheek where the woman's hand had tangled in my hair just moments ago. His touch sent a shiver through me.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low, a big change from his earlier commanding tone.
I nodded, finally finding my voice. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine."
He looked down at my hand, at my damaged phone screen. A muscle twitched in his jaw.
"She broke your phone," he stated, his voice flat with controlled anger.
I managed a shrug trying to appear unbothered, though the sight of the shattered screen still made my stomach flip. That phone held everything. "Just a phone."
"Unacceptable," he said,firmness in his tone. He placed my broken phone into the pocket of his jacket. "I'll have a new one sent to you immediately loaded with everything from this one. Consider it… compensation for the inconvenience." He paused, and watched my face. "And for dealing with that."
Okay this is so weird
He gestured subtly towards the direction the woman had disappeared. "Some people forget their manners when they feel threatened."
I wasn't sure if he meant she felt threatened, or if he felt I was threatened. Or perhaps both.
"Thank you," I said, the words feeling a little bit awkward.
He gave a slight nod then his eyes scanned the corridor locating the discreet sign pointing to the ballroom. "The auction room is this way," he said, tilting his head
I nodded silently and followed him, my heels clicking on the marble floor.
He didn't say a word as we moved through the fancy hallways of the hotel
The ballroom was ahead, its doors tall and elaborate, with two staff members standing on each side. One of them gave a slight bow when Adrien approached and pushed the doors open without hesitation.
Inside, everything screamed money—gold lights, white tables, glass things, and quiet, expensive talks.
Adrien didn't slow down. I quickened my pace, catching up beside him just before we entered fully. I could feel the weight of eyes already shifting to us.
He stopped, turned to me a little and reached for my hand.
I blinked at him.
"Contract," he said under his breath, his fingers tracing over the back of mine before wrapping around them.
His grip was firm. Not possessive. Not fake either. Just steady.
It was a strong grip. Not clingy. Not fake either. Just hard.
I gazed up at him, but his face didn't give anything away. Adrien Walton, ever the closed book, always a mystery
But I didn't pull away.
And as we walked into the ballroom, hand in hand, everyone turned their heads. Whispers started. I held my head high.
Let them look. Let them talk.
This was what I signed up for.
Flashes went off from the back of the room—those secret photographers Adrien told me about, dressed as guests or servers, or maybe even auction staff. I saw a man pretending to drink champagne while his watch blinked red. Hidden camera. Media for sure.
Adrien didn't react. He led us deeper into the room like he'd done this a thousand times.
A steward in a black suit approached and handed Adrien a small silver paddle with number 9 on it. "Mr. Walton. Your VIP section is prepared," he said with a slight bow then smiled at me politely. "Ma'am."
Adrien nodded once and kept walking.
The VIP area was slightly raised, sectioned off with golden ropes and soft chairs. The kind of seats you get if you could buy the whole place without thinking about it. Adrien held the rope open for me and waited for me to step in before following.
I sat down slowly, adjusting the one-shoulder ruched top that hugged my torso like second skin. The high-waisted taupe trousers draped effortlessly down my legs almost touching my. I smoothed my palm across the fabric—not to fix it but to steady the flutter still in my chest My heart was still racing from what happened outsidee. That woman—her insults, her threats. And Adrien… the way he stepped in without hesitation. Ruthless and bossy. Even scary.
I glanced at him.
He was already seated beside me, legs crossed, his expression is unreadable as he scanned the auction book in his hand.
But then, as if sensing my eyes on him, he spoke without looking up.
"You handled her well," he said.
I blinked. "You think so?"
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." He finally looked up, his eyes meeting mine. The warmth from the hallway was gone, The warmth from before was gone, and now he was just checking me out. "Most people fal under that kind of pressure."
"I've had worse." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of smile playing on his lips. "Intriguing. Tell me more."
"Don't get any ideas," I said, a little sharper than intended. "I'm not sharing my tragic backstory just to entertain you."
He chuckled, a low genuine sound that somehow eased the tension in my shoulders. "I wouldn't do that. Unless it has something to do with the contract, of course."
"Strictly business," I confirmed.
"Strictly business," he echoed, his eyes still fixed on mine.
A server came up and offered us champagne in tall glasses and adrien took one. I shook my head. I needed to keep a clear head.
"Water, please," I told the server who bowed slightly and hurried away.
The auction was starting in ten minutes. More people came in—men in suits, women with jewels and fancy dresses. The air smelled like perfume and money. It was a different world from my small apartment, the life I know.
A man walked onto the stage and tapped the mic. The auction was about to begin.
Adrien finally looked at me then, his voice low. "Remember, stay close. Smile when necessary. Hold my hand when I reach for it."
"And if I don't?"
His lips twitched a little. "Then I'll make it look like you were begging me to."
I narrowed my eyes. "You're impossible."
He just smirked. "Get used to it, girlfriend."
"Do you have your eye on anything in particular?" I asked, pointing to the auction catalog in his hand. Trying to figure out this new situation.
He didn't immediately answer. He took a sip of champagne with his gaze sweeping the room. Finally, he said, "There's a necklace I might be interested in."
"Expensive?"
"Exceedingly."
The lights went down, and the room became quiet. A man in a tuxedo stepped onto the small stage at the front of the ballroom. He cleared his throat and the microphone made a noise.
"Good evening. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual Black & Gold Charity Auction," he began, his voice smooth and confident. "Tonight, you'll be bidding on some of the rarest art, fashion, and jewelry pieces collected from across the globe. All proceeds go to children's relief foundations in conflict zones, so spend generously… and shamelessly."
People laughed a little.
Adrien leaned closer, his breath near my ear. "Watch closely. Some of these people are more into showing off than actually getting anything."
I nodded, watching the stage. The first item was a limited-edition earring. A bidding war erupted almost immediately fueled by the need to out do.
Adrien remained expressionless, his gaze fixed on the stage but his fingers tapped lightly against his thigh. He was waiting.