Page 60 of Bid For Me

It’s done.

I sit back, staring at the signed contract like it’s some kind of monster.

I’ve made my choice.

Now all that’s left is to follow through.

By the time Seb arrives, I’m ready. I’ve curled my hair into soft waves and pinned it back with a large black velvet bow. I’ve chosen a sleek black dress that hugs my figure without being too revealing. It’s elegant, understated, and just the right mix of approachable and untouchable. It’s armour.

My makeup is flawless, every detail carefully considered. I’m not just putting on a performance for Seb’s father – I’m putting one on for Seb, too.

I won’t let him see how much this hurts.

A strand of pearls around my throat, a spritz of my custom-blended perfume, Chanel heels and bag, and my cashmere coat draped over my shoulders. I’m ready.

Almostready.

I slip my hand into my coat pocket and withdraw the ring. It feels even heavier than before, but that’s just the shackles of the contract weighing me down. I slip it onto the ring finger of my left hand. A perfect fit. Did I notice that yesterday? I can’t remember.

The buzzer sounds, and I grab the contract, slipping it into my bag before heading to the intercom.

“Come on up,” I say, my voice calm and controlled as I leave the door on the latch for him.You can do this, Elle.

Moments later, Seb steps into my apartment, his presence filling the room like it always does. He looks good – too good –in a tailored suit that emphasises the breadth of his shoulders and the sharp lines of his jaw.

His signature leather jacket is nowhere to be seen and damn, if the sight of him all suited and booted doesn’t make me weak at the knees. I’m glad I dressed up too. We complement each other nicely. Look good together.

“Elle,” he says, his eyes sweeping over me. “You look...” He trails off, his gaze lingering just a moment too long.

I force a smile, ignoring the way my chest tightens. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

For a fraction of a second, something flickers in his eyes – something like hurt. But then it’s gone, replaced by his usual cool composure.

“Of course,” he says, his voice steady.

As we leave the apartment and head to the car waiting downstairs, I keep my head held high, my expression carefully neutral.

This is the performance of a lifetime, and I’m determined to make it convincing.

For his father.

For Seb.

For myself.

Seb opens the car door for me, and I slide in without a word, clutching my bag like it’s a lifeline. He settles into the driver’s seat, his cologne filling the space between us. Normally, the rich, smoky scent would unravel me, but not today.

Today, I am steel. Galvanised.

The ride is silent, save for the hum of the engine filling the space between us. I keep my gaze fixed out the window, watching the city pass in a blur of gray and neon lights. Oxford Street gives way to quieter streets, and I can feel Seb’s gaze on me, heavy and questioning, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of turning to meet it.

Seb doesn’t say much, which is unusual for him. Normally, he’d fill the silence with something – his sharp wit, a half-smirk, an offhand comment designed to provoke. But today, he seems...off.

Good. Let him stew in it.

Finally, he speaks. “Elle, about before?—”

I cut him off, my tone crisp. “There’s nothing to talk about.”