Page 97 of Bid For Me
And for the first time all night, I feel something sharper than unease.Suspicion.
Does Seb know about the updated prenup? He must, surely?
No. He would never have let me sign that.He was so adamant about me not signing anything, fully supportive when I demanded his father take out the clause pertaining to children. There’s no way…
Unless it was all an act?
But what would he have to gain from playing me?
Panic flutters low in my chest as Seb looks like he wants to murder his father.
His eyes dart toward me across the room, locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath stutter. He doesn’t look away as his father continues talking, gesturing at something with a wave of his hand.
My fingers tighten around the stem of my glass.
Seb’s gaze doesn’t waver, and suddenly, I’m sure of it – something is wrong. He knowssomething. There’s a storm in his expression, a silent question he’s trying to ask without speaking.
I shake my head faintly, telling himI’m fine, but I’m not sure if I mean it.
His father’s laugh cuts through the air, bright and booming, and Seb finally breaks the stare, his jaw clenching tight enough that I see the muscle twitch.
I take another sip of champagne, the bubbles sharp on my tongue.
The orchestra plays on, the lights glitter above us, and all I can think is that this is just the beginning of whatever game the Sterling-Knight men are playing with me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Seb
I don’t waitfor Elle to notice me. I don’t give her a chance to move. My hand closes around her wrist as I reach her, and the look she gives me – wide-eyed, startled – does nothing to curb the anger surging through me at my father’s words.
“We’re leaving,” I growl, my voice low enough that no one around us hears.
She stiffens but doesn’t argue.
Of course, she doesn’t. What would she say? That she needs more time to come up with another way to twist this? That she’s not ready for me to confront her?
But then, why does she look like she’s about to cry?
Crocodile tears, for effect and convenience, I’m sure.
But the thought gnaws at me as I steer her toward the exit, but before we can make it halfway across the ballroom, my father’s voice cuts through the air like the snap of a whip.
“Sebastian! Leaving so soon?”
I turn, teeth clenched, dragging Elle with me. He stands in the center of a growing circle of onlookers, his smug expression as infuriating as ever.
“It’s time for the first dance,” he announces, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “And the cake cutting! We can’t deprive our guests of such an important moment, can we?”
Elle stiffens beside me. I glance at her, but her face is turned away, her profile blank, unreadable.
“Let’s get this over with,” I mutter, releasing her wrist to offer my hand.
She takes it without looking at me, her fingers trembling in mine. I feel that small betrayal as clearly as if she’d slapped me. What does she have to be nervous about? I’m the one standing here trying to reconcile the woman I thought I knew with the person, who apparently wants to trap me into a life I never agreed to.
We walk to the center of the room, and the orchestra begins to play. The moment we step into position, every gaze in the room fixes on us, burning against my skin.
“Smile,” I murmur through gritted teeth.