Page 67 of Bid For Me
We pass the gates of the estate and a long, winding drive is flanked by perfectly manicured hedges. The kind of place that screams power, wealth, and harsh, unyielding expectations. I take a deep breath, trying to steel myself for what’s to come. The mansion is even more imposing up close, a testament to his family’s power and influence. Everything about it feels... cold. It’s all so perfect, but clinical. The kind of place that feels like it was built to keep people out, to keep emotions at bay. A façade.
Seb steps out of the car first, circling the bonnet to open my door for me. His hand is extended, but I hesitate, my stomach twisting. I don’t want him to touch me, not right now. But I take his hand anyway, trying to ignore the familiar spark that shoots through me at the contact. His warmth is a stark contrast to the chill of the mansion looming before us.
As we walk up to the entrance, I feel every step beneath me, each one heavier than the last. This is it. The life I’ve agreed tolive, even if it’s just for the next twelve months. I keep reminding myself: it’s just business. Just a contract.
I square my shoulders.
It’s showtime.
Seb opens the front door, and I step into the mansion, the weight of my decision pressing down harder than ever. The grandeur of the house is almost suffocating, with its sweeping marble floors and glittering chandeliers. Everything here is designed to intimidate, to remind you of just how small you are compared to this family’s power.
Seb walks beside me, his hand hovering near the small of my back like he’s afraid I might bolt. I don’t blame him. If I could, I might.
“This way,” he says quietly, leading me through the house.
The dining room is just as extravagant as the rest of the mansion. The long mahogany table gleams under the soft glow of the chandelier, set with delicate china and crystal glasses. Alexander is already seated at the head, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.
“Ah, there you are,” he says, his tone calm but carrying that edge of command I’ve come to expect. “Join me for breakfast.”
Seb pulls out a chair for me, his hand brushing my back as I sit. I steel myself, donning the polished mask I’ve learned to wear for situations like this.
Alexander watches us closely as a servant pours coffee into delicate porcelain cups and sets plates of eggs and fruit before us. The silence stretches, oppressive and heavy, until Alexander breaks it.
“You’ve settled in, I trust?” he asks, his gaze flicking between the two of us.
“We literally just got here,” Seb mutters under his breath.
“As much as we can in such a short time,” I reply evenly, keeping my tone neutral.
“Good,” Alexander says, his voice measured. “This arrangement is unconventional, yes, but I expect it to be handled properly. Appearances are everything in this family. The media will scrutinize your every move, and I won’t tolerate any hint of impropriety.”
Seb stiffens beside me, his grip tightening on his fork, but he doesn’t speak.
Alexander continues, his gaze fixed on Seb now. “Which brings me to a point of logistics. You’ll be sharing a room.”
I freeze, my fork pausing mid-air. Seb sits up straighter, his jaw tightening.
“We’ll do no such thing,” Seb says firmly, his tone measured but resolute. “Elle deserves her own space.”
Alexander’s brow arches, his gaze turning steely. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re engaged. People will expect you to behave as such. Separate rooms would raise questions, don’t you think?”
“I don’t see why it’s necessary,” Seb counters, his voice sharpening.
Alexander sets his coffee cup down with a soft clink, his movements deliberate. “Why the protest, Sebastian? You’ve never been shy about sharing a bed before.”
Seb’s face flushes, and I glance away, heat crawling up my neck.
“This is different,” Seb says through gritted teeth.
“Different how?” Alexander presses, his voice cold.
Seb hesitates, and I can feel the tension radiating off him. Finally, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Elle and I have decided to wait until we’re married.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Alexander stares at us, his expression unreadable, before letting out a sharp laugh. “Wait? What is this, some religious nonsense? Are her parents zealots?”
“No,” I say quickly, my voice shaking but firm. “It’s...it’s a personal choice.”
Alexander leans back in his chair, studying me with a piercing gaze that feels like it could see right through me. “How quaint,” he says finally, his tone laced with condescension. “But I won’t budge on this. You’ll share a room. You don’t have to consummate your relationship, but you can certainly sleep in the same bed. Or Sebastian can take the couch. Or the floor. I don’t care. But separate rooms are out of the question.”