18. Stella
18
STELLA
T he blood freezes in my veins when the auctioneer’s words reach my ears.
Sold? How is that possible when I didn’t even see it onstage?
It takes a second for my brain to fully catch up and even longer for my body. Leo doesn’t withdraw, and the longer he remains lodged inside me, the worse I feel.
“Get off me.” The words are a deadly venom, spewed from my barely open lips.
Leo chuckles. “But I’m so comfortable.”
Grinding my teeth, I snake one leg away from him and use the momentum to drive my heel into the toe of his loafer. He removes his fingers while the rest of him stays in place, pinning me to the table.
I wrench my head to the right, finding the placard he’s holding and my discarded one beneath it. Until now, it didn’t fully cross my mind that I’d dropped the damn thing. I was too caught up in how good it felt to have him touching me.
Frustrated and flustered, I dip my chin forward and rear back quickly, slamming my skull into my husband’s jaw.
Leo curses, pulling away from me in an instant. I hate how empty he leaves me feeling—I’m cold and vacant inside now, consuming any warmth left by his embrace and the residual elation of a much-needed orgasm.
He touches his thumb to his bleeding bottom lip as I whirl around, ready to dig my nails into his deceitful eyes.
“I’d think twice before lashing out again,” he says in a low voice, glancing at the crowd. “There are rules here, stellina. You wouldn’t want to get in trouble for being a bloodthirsty siren, would you?”
A few bystanders have turned in our direction, and an auction staff member makes their way over, clasping Leo on the shoulder.
“Everything okay here, folks?” the uniformed redhead asks.
Leo nods, rubbing at the underside of his chin. “Oh, yes, that was merely an accident. My wife has very limited spatial awareness.”
The staff member doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but when Leo turns away from them, it effectively ends the conversation. Still, I can feel dozens of eyes on us, and the knowledge makes my skin crawl.
Leaning against the table, I glare at Leo. “How fucking dare you.”
“You’re complaining about getting off?”
“You basically stole my bid. I wanted that goddamn flower, and you knew it. Why would you keep me from buying it like that?”
“I didn’t?—”
Spinning on my heels, I veer through the crowd, leaving him behind. Seconds pass, and he’s hot on my trail, even as I weave through the throng of auction attendees. Red-hot anger burns in my skull, and I realize the last time I felt this way was probably seven years ago—first when Papà used me to broker a deal with a vicious man, and again when that man rejected my advances.
Stepping out of the ballroom is like waking from a deep slumber. Bright lights shine down, and I squint at the empty hallway, my brain working overtime to formulate a plan—or at least a single coherent thought. One that isn’t about Leopoldo De Tore.
The odds of me getting a promotion are very low if I don’t get that fucking orchid. For a moment, I glare at the wall, wondering if it’s even worth it.
If any of this is truly worth it.
Maybe I should’ve just stayed in Boston. I’m sure someone would have killed me by now out of spite or suspicion. At least I wouldn’t have to keep facing how fucking worthless I am.
Sure, I’ve worked my ass off these past few years to make up for everything else that was bought or handed to me because of my family. But I can’t shake the thought that maybe Papà was right in marrying me off. Maybe Mamma was right that all I’m good for is being someone’s imprisoned wife.
I couldn’t even get this orchid for my boss because I was too busy allowing a man to distract me. Because this life I want isn’t one I’m cut out for.
Maybe I’m not good enough.
“Look, Stella, I don’t know what you think I did, but?—”
Holding up my hands, I turn to Leo with an exasperated sigh. “Please, leave me alone.”
“I don’t want to do that.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter what you want.” Anguish rushes through me like a river, and I groan so loudly that the chandelier dangling above us seems to tremble. “Why couldn’t you just leave me be?”
He doesn’t respond.
Throwing myself at him, I beat at his chest with the sides of my fists. I’m not a confrontational person, and the irony is not lost on me that every instance of violence I’ve mustered in my life has been in his presence. Almost as if he brings it out in me.
I hit solid muscle, and my wrists ache with the pummeling, but he doesn’t even fight back. He just stands there, taking it, even when I put all my weight into the punches and shove him against the wall.
It’s not until he grips my wrists and pulls me into an embrace that I realize we aren’t alone. A few auction staff members have ambled outside the ballroom, and they’ve gathered down the hall, murmuring among themselves, interrupting my outburst.
It takes even longer for me to realize I’m crying.
You’re pathetic, Stella. You should just give up and go home with him. Stop trying to be something more than what you are.
Eventually, I wear myself out. The grief of failure presses down on the center of my chest, and my arms drop to my sides in defeat. Leo releases me, and I step out of his reach, wanting distance between us. Especially when he steps forward, seeming to seek something else from me.
“Please don’t.” The words are barely audible, and I think he might ignore me, as usual.
Except this time, he stays put and leans his back against the wall. “Stella, I?—”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
Leo’s brows rise, and he nods, pushing toward me. “Okay, we can?—”
“ Alone .” I turn, crossing my arms over my chest, shielding my breasts. With everything else that’s happened, I almost forgot the risqué number Valerie packed in my overnight bag, and I regret putting it on now. It feels wildly inappropriate. “Please, Leo. I just need a minute.”
His jaw tenses, emotion clouding his gray eyes. “One minute. Then you come back to me.”
I press my mouth into a thin line of compliance, then shuffle down the hall before he can change his mind. Once I’m past the corner across from the main grand staircase of the mansion, I take a sharp right turn and disappear down a shorter corridor, looping around and coming to a door marked as off-limits to the general public.
Running right into Genevieve.
She’s in a gorgeous black gown, her dark hair pulled back from her striking slender face. A simmering smile lifts her mouth as her glittering eyes meet mine, but then she pauses, taking in my state of disarray.
“ Mon Dieu! What did that horrible man do to you?”
Sniffling, I just shake my head. “Nothing. I’m just pissed because I didn’t get the item I wanted.”
“Aw, my poor little puppy. Do you need Mommy to comfort you?”
My face contorts. “I wish you wouldn’t call yourself that.”
“Well, I wish you would .” Sighing, she cools herself with a dark orange paper fan. “Still, I understand your loyalty to your husband, even if I disagree with you needing to be.”
I squint at her. “Why?”
“Because it’s a terrible shame that a woman as soft and beautiful as you is stuck with a brute like him. Especially one who makes you cry.” My mouth opens to protest, but she waves the fan at me. “Don’t lie to me a second time, please. I’m not stupid.”
She steps forward, pressing a palm to my cheek and lifting my face. For a moment, I think she’s going to kiss me again, and I don’t mind one bit. A part of me even wants it, seeing as I know it’d make Leo mad. But I don’t want to get her into trouble, and it wouldn’t solve anything.
Instead of kissing me, however, she swipes her thumb beneath my eye, wiping away a tear. “The real question is, how are you going to make him regret hurting you?”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t mean with me. Though I’d love to help, I’m afraid my services have already been purchased for the evening.” She grins again, squeezing my cheeks slightly. “Maybe yours should be up for grabs as well.”
This is likely a terrible decision—not my worst, but definitely the most impulsive. I don’t even give myself time to think it all the way through, revenge clouding my judgment as I push open the private door and slip inside.
It’s almost pitch-black in the room, and a haze fills the air, although I’m not sure if it’s from smoking paraphernalia or if the auction runners added it for dramatic effect. The connecting hall is short, and I come to a complete stop at the edge of the stage, where the auctioneer seems to be bringing the night to a close.
My hands tremble as I place one heel onto the stage. I inhale slowly, letting the events of the past twenty-four hours filter through my veins. I think about my wedding night and the one after that ended in shame.
This will not be a repeat.
Tonight, I’ll be the one rejecting Leo.
It’s exactly what he deserves for ruining my evening and making me miss the flower.
And maybe there’s still a chance for me to secure the item, even if that means tracking down the winner and bargaining my life for it. In the meantime, my husband will pay for being an ass—tonight, seven years ago, and all the alone time in between.
Even if he’s the one who manages to buy me, I’ll make him pay before he’s able to get me naked.
I press my hands to my thighs and scramble out as quickly as possible, rushing to Reaper before he can finish his sentence. He’s shirtless, and as he turns toward me, his tongue darting to the piercing in his lip, his dark eyes rove over my form with a lazy heat I feel in my bones.
“I’m afraid all rides must wait until after the show.”
My jaw falls open. “Oh, n-no. That’s not… I’m not here to service you, Mr. Reaper.”
Amusement dances across his handsome face. “It’s just Reaper, sweetheart. And if that’s not what you’re up here after, I hope you have a good reason for interrupting my show.”
I steal a glance at the crowd, which is completely hidden by the stage lighting. They’re specks of dust out in a sea of black, and I feel a little relief at the thought that maybe no one saw Leo with his hand between my legs ten minutes ago.
Not that it would’ve stopped either of us, I don’t think.
“Weren’t you about to end things?” I ask.
Reaper scans my face, then lifts his brows. Waiting.
I blow out a breath and rock forward, shifting my weight to my toes. “Right, well, I was hoping you could extend it for a few extra minutes?”
“Do you have an announcement?”
“No.” My face burns, embarrassment scorching my cheeks. “I’d like to, um, enter the auction.”
“I’m afraid we don’t have anything else to bid on?—”
“ I want to be auctioned off,” I rush out. My fingers tingle. “You know, like those other girls I saw earlier.”
He stares at me silently for several beats. Someone calls out for him offstage, and he holds up two fingers in their direction without removing his gaze from mine. I squirm slightly, feeling undone by the intensity of his eyes.
“A little unorthodox to add items after the last one has gone up, but I suppose stranger things have happened. You’ll need to sign a contract. House rules.”
“Okay.” I take the stack of papers and pen he hands over, scanning the legalese and signing quickly.
Reaper takes the contract back when I’m finished. “Might want to sweeten the pot a bit.”
“I…I didn’t bring anything valuable with me.” A thought occurs to me, though I’m not sure how viable it is. “I’ve never, um…been with someone. Like this. Or, like…you know.” Shame stains my entire body, and I know without looking that I’ve probably broken out in hives. “Maybe that could work?”
Now he smiles. Takes a step toward me, his clean scent taking over my senses. His long fingers come up, sweeping a stray piece of lint from my bare shoulder and making me shiver. “Stella Ricci’s virginity. What a fucking treasure.”
My jaw drops. “I’m not—I mean, I didn’t think… How?—”
Reaper laughs, stepping away again. He slides his hand over my lower back and shoves me forward into a bright spotlight with a wink. “I know everything. Now put your chin up and shoulders back. You want to be somebody’s toy for a night or two? You’d better make them believe it.”