chapter 10 The Gala

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The auction hall buzzed around me, but I couldn’t focus.

The lights were too bright, and everything seemed to blur. I took a slow, measured breath, but even that felt like a task. I could still feel the burn of the champagne in my throat, the heat spreading through my body, making everything….fuzzy. Something was seriously wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what.

“Go ahead, kayla,” Mr. Price’s voice slithered into my ear again. “Make another bid. Don’t be shy.”

I swallowed, my throat dry despite the champagne. I glanced at him, his smile never wavering, but now it looked more like a predator’s grin. My hand shook, but I raised it anyway.

" Why the hell was I bidding?".... "What was I even bidding for?"

The auctioneer’s voice dragged on, acknowledging my bid, and suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tristan’s hand go up.

He was bidding against me?

My heart thudded in my chest. I hadn’t even noticed when he’d moved seats, but now he was closer, directly in my line of sight. His hand was raised casually, like he wasn’t even thinking about it, but his eyes… his eyes were locked on me. Dark and, intense, they seemed to pin me to the spot.

“Good move,” Mr. Price whispered beside me, leaning in too close. His hand moving downward before it rested lightly on my lower back, and I fought the urge to gag. “Let’s see how far you’ll go.”

But I didn’t want to go any further. I needed to stop. The edges of the room were spinning, and it felt like I was sinking into the chair. I tried to focus on the auctioneer, on what he was saying, but the words jumbled together, and all I could hear was my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Tristan raised his hand again, outbidding me once more. There was a flicker of something in his eyes....something sharp, like he knew exactly what was going on. My breath hitched. His movements were smooth, calculated. He wasn’t just bidding. He was watching me, assessing every little thing under a microscope, like I was part of the game too.

“Don’t let him beat you,” Mr. Price’s voice cut through my haze again, more forceful now. His fingers pressed into my waist, nudging me to lift my hand again.

I couldn’t do it. I didn’t even know what I was doing anymore. My hand felt heavy, like it was weighed down by something more than just nerves. I glanced at the glass of champagne in my other hand and realized I’d taken another sip without even noticing. My throat tightened trying to cling for air.

“I think…” My voice came out weak, barely above a whisper. “I think I need to stop.”

“Oh no, darling,” Mr. Price said, his tone almost mocking. “We’re just getting started.”

I looked around, desperate for some way out, but the room was packed, faces I didn’t recognize swirling around me. The only thing that seemed steady, the only thing that felt real, was Tristan. He hadn’t moved from his seat, but his eyes never left mine.

And then, as if sensing my distress, he stood up.

I felt my pulse quicken, and not from the champagne or the realization that I had been drugged by this old crook . It was the way he moved—smooth, deliberate. He wasn’t rushing, but he was walking with purpose, cutting through the crowd like they weren’t even there.

His tall frame seemed to command attention, and for a second, I forgot how heavy my body felt. All I could focus on was the way he moved toward me, like he was coming to claim something.

Mr. Price noticed too. “Ah, Tristan!” he called out, his voice suddenly cheerful, but I could hear the tension underneath. “Come join us. You remember Kayla, don’t you?”he added simultaneously picking me up as though we were about to leave.

Tristan’s eyes flicked to Mr. Price, then back to me. His expression stayed neutral, but there was something dangerous in the way his jaw tightened, just the slightest bit. “We’ve met,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge I couldn’t quite place the tip of my finger.

I felt a rush of heat at the sound of his voice, my skin prickling with awareness. God, even in this state, I couldn’t help but be affected by him. His presence was overwhelming—calm and steady, but underneath, there was this tension, like he was holding something back. It made my heart race, even though I could barely stand.

Mr. Price laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Lovely girl, isn’t she?” His hand was still on my back, his fingers brushing too close to my skin. “I was just telling her how lucky she is to be here tonight.”

“Is that what you were telling her?” Tristan’s tone was so mild, but the look he gave Mr. Price was anything but. It was a warning, clear and sharp.

I wanted to say something, anything, but my mouth felt dry, and my thoughts were too slow. Everything was happening around me, too fast and too slow all at once.

Mr. Price leaned in again, lowering his voice like Tristan wasn’t standing right there. “Why don’t you come with me, kayla? Let’s get some air. You’re looking a little pale.” nudging my arm in a fit to start leaving

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, Tristan spoke, his voice firm. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

The room seemed to go silent, heads turning to view ,the tension between them evident. Mr. Price straightened up, his smile cracking for just a moment, his eyes darting across the room taking notice of all the people who were watching , he looked uncomfortable.

“And why is that?” Mr. Price asked, his tone still light, but there was an edge now.

Tristan’s eyes flickered to me, and for a second, I thought I saw something soften there, like he was checking if I was okay. Then he looked back at Mr. Price, his eyes cold, his voice even colder. “Because she came with me.”

My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t come with him, but the way he said it, so casually, so confidently, made it feel true.

The weight of his words settled over me, and I felt an odd sense of relief, like he’d just pulled me out of some deep, dark water.

Mr. Price hesitated, his smile twitching at the edges , his fingers caressing my arm once again. He didn’t want to let this go. “Did she now?”

“She did,” Tristan answered, his voice low, almost daring Mr. Price to challenge him.

I could feel my body starting to give in, the drug pulling me deeper under. The room tilted again, but before I could stumble, Tristan’s hand was at my arm, steadying me. His touch was firm but careful, his fingers wrapping around my elbow, electrifying my entire body like he was anchoring me.

“We’re going to the auction,” Tristan said, glancing down at me for a brief moment, his expression unreadable. “Come on, Kayla.”

I nodded, grateful for the excuse, for the way he was pulling me out of whatever trap I’d been walking into. Mr. Price didn’t say anything, just watched us, his smile completely gone now. His eyes had a sag to them.

Tristan led me away, his hand never leaving my arm, guiding me through the crowd. I could feel the eyes on us, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the warmth of his hand and the way his presence seemed to cut through the fog in my mind.

As we reached the next row on the auction floor, I collapsed into the seat next to him, the champagne glass still clutched in my hand. I tried to focus on the stage, on the bidding, but my head felt too heavy, and my body wasn’t listening to me.

I took another sip of the champagne, trying to steady myself, but it only made the dizziness worse, "shit" I muttered glancing at the glass as I seemed to forget it was laced.

Tristan leaned closer, his voice low in my ear. “You don’t have to stay here. I can take you home.”

I shook my head, though I wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was because part of me didn’t want to leave him just yet. There was something about him, something that made me feel safe, even though we barely knew each other.

He glanced at me, his expression softening just slightly. “You’re not okay,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?”

I nodded, because he was right. I wasn’t okay. But I wasn’t ready to leave yet, either.

so far this mission had been a disaster....

The auction continued, and I watched in a daze as Tristan raised his hand to bid again.

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