chapter 11 The Gala

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The world blurred again as I tried to focus, but everything felt off too bright, too loud. My heart pounded in my chest, sending blood rushing to my ears as Tristan’s hand stayed firm on my arm. He was calm, steady, in control. And fuck, wasn’t that ironic?

Here I was, in a room full of people I was supposed to be conning.....and especially him, my damn target—and here he was saving me from whatever nightmare Mr. Price was dragging me into.

God, if he knew. If he knew why I was really here, what I was planning...

No. I couldn’t think about that now. Not with Tristan so close, his scent filling the space between us—clean and masculine, with a hint of something woodsy. It made my head spin in a completely different way than the drug that was making me feel , like I was sinking into quicksand.

The auction hall buzzed around us, but it felt far away, like the entire room was fading into the background. It was just Tristan and me, his hand warm against my skin, grounding me, pulling me back from the edge of whatever hell I was sinking into.

I could still feel Mr. Price’s eyes on me, though. Watching. Waiting. That fucking predator's smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

I shivered, gag rising in my throat, but Tristan was still right there. His presence was so overwhelming that it was messing with me in ways I wasn’t ready for. I should’ve felt safe. But instead, my body was betraying me.

Every little touch, every breath he took, made my skin prickle with awareness. I was hyperfocused on him—on the way he seemed so damn.... composed, like this was just another business deal for him, while my entire world was unraveling.

"You really shouldn’t have drunk that champagne," Tristan murmured, his voice low, cutting through the haze. His lips were so close to my ear that I felt his breath caress against my skin. A shiver ran down my spine, making my thighs clench involuntarily. Jesus, I couldn’t even trust my own body anymore.

“I.....” I swallowed hard, trying to form a coherent thought, but my head was swimming. My mouth was dry, and every nerve in my body was on edge. “I didn’t......fuck, I didn’t mean to....”

He tilted his head, watching me with those dark, intense eyes that made me feel like he could see straight through all the bullshit. “I know,” he said simply, like that explained everything. And maybe it did, because I didn’t have the energy to argue. Not now. Not with him looking at me like that.

I wasn’t supposed to be the damsel in distress. I was supposed to be the one pulling the strings, playing the role, getting closer to him. And now... Now I was sitting next to him, barely able to keep it together, while he kept saving my ass.

It wasn’t fair.

None of this was supposed to be happening. I was supposed to be conning him, not needing him. And certainly not fucking wanting him. But I did. God, I wanted him. The heat between my thighs was making it harder to breathe, harder to think straight. I was losing control, and the worst part was... I didn’t want to stop.

“I should go,” I whispered, but even as I said it, I didn’t move. My body betrayed me, leaning into the warmth of his hand, craving more.

Tristan’s grip tightened just a fraction. “Do you want to?” His voice was smooth, dangerous, like he already knew the answer.

I opened my mouth to lie, to tell him I needed to leave, but no words came out. My lips parted, but all I could do was shake my head. No. I didn’t want to go. And the realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

His gaze flickered down to my lips, and for a split second, I thought he might kiss me. Hell, I wanted him to. And I hated myself for it.

But before I could do anything....before I could act on the reckless urge to close the distance between us....his eyes shifted. His jaw clenched, and his attention moved back across the room.

"Fuck. Mr. Price". I cursed inwardly

The old bastard hadn’t moved, still watching us like a hawk. His eyes were glued to me, roaming over my body like I was some kind of prize he hadn’t claimed yet. My stomach twisted at the memory of his hand on my back, his voice in my ear.

I hadn’t even realized how close I’d come to a situation I couldn’t escape until Tristan had stepped in.

“He’s still watching you,” Tristan murmured, his voice dark with something I couldn’t quite place. Possessiveness? Anger? Whatever it was, it sent a thrill through me, sharp and hot, curling low in my belly.

“He...he drugged me, didn’t he?” I whispered, the words finally spilling out. I felt like a fool for not realizing it sooner. For letting my guard down. For almost getting trapped.

Tristan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned in closer, his fingers brushing against my wrist now, sending a jolt of electricity through my already fragile body. “You’ll be fine,” he said, his tone soft but firm, like a promise.

“I won’t let him touch you again.”

Those words...

God, those words did something to me. They made my pulse race, made the air between us feel thick and charged with something I couldn’t name.

I wanted to believe him. No....fuck, I did believe him. But I also couldn’t ignore the irony of it all. I wasn’t supposed to need him. I was supposed to be playing him. Tristan Agress was supposed to be my target, not my savior.

And yet, here he was. Protecting me. Watching over me. His hand lingering on my skin like he owned me.

“Why are you doing this?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, my voice trembling. “Why are you helping me?”

Tristan’s gaze darkened, his lips curving into the faintest smirk, but there was no humor in it. Just something raw, something dangerous simmering beneath the surface. “You don’t need to know why,” he said quietly, his fingers trailing up my arm, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Just know that I am.”

That should’ve scared me. The certainty in his voice, the way he said it like it was a fact of life. But instead, it only made me want him more.

“You shouldn’t,” I breathed, even though my body was practically screaming for him. My head was swimming, my thoughts jumbled, but that one truth cut through the fog. “You shouldn’t be helping me.”

He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over the pulse point on my wrist, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. Amusement? Maybe. Or maybe something deeper, something darker. “And why’s that?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl.

“Because I’m not...” I trailed off, biting my lip.

FUCK. WHAT WAS THAT!!

I couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t let him know who I really was. That I wasn’t the girl he thought I was. That I was here to take everything from him. This drug was really getting to me.

But instead of pulling away, Tristan leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending a shiver through me. “You’re not what, Kayla?”

God, my name on his lips sounded like a sin. Like he was daring me to admit it. To admit everything.

only it wasn't my name...

“I’m not good for you,” I whispered, the confession tumbling out before I could stop it. And fuck, it was true. I wasn’t. I wasn’t good for him at all.

Tristan chuckled softly, the sound sending a wave of heat through me. “Good girls bore me,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “You should know that by now.”

My pulse quickened, and I clenched my fists, trying to hold on to what little self-control I had left. But with him so close, his touch burning into me, it was a losing battle.

I wasn’t supposed to want him. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. But fuck... I did.

And the worst part? I wasn’t sure I wanted it to stop.

"l...let's get out of here" I said faintly , my head spinning with each word.

Tristan held my hand firmly , trying to steady me, I knew deep down he felt I couldn't last any longer.

So all that talk was what?... just to reply my conversation?

sly man.

without much to say he helped me up , his arm becoming a pillar I leaned on , my heels clicked and I realized how wasted I was , how this mission was a disaster.

But at least I got to study Tristan.....my target....

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