Page 178 of The Contract

The knot in my throat makes it hard to breathe, let alone speak.

But I force the words out anyway.

“You’d take more than a kiss.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

From the folds of his jacket, he pulls out a key—suspended on a length of black silk.

He holds it out.

Tired. Cold. Every muscle pulled tight with suspicion.

And the masks—God, the masks—each second makes them harder to stomach.

Still, I step forward.

Slow. Guarded.

Just close enough for the key to slip from his fingers into my waiting palm.

“Her necklace.” He motions to Mila. “Put it on.”

I jerk back a step. “Why?”

His gaze slides over me like a starved man at a Vegas buffet. Down then back up, until he meets my eyes. “It looks better on you.”

I don’t move. Just stare.

He shifts, leaning lazily against the bars. “Do it,” he says, reaching through—bold and unrushed—letting his fingertips drag a deliberate line across my thigh.

“Do it and I’ll bid.”

My tone sharpens. “Bidding doesn’t mean you win.”

He smiles, slow and wicked.

“And yet, I always do.”

The figure eight he’s been tracking flattens to a long seductive line. I brush away his hand. “And then what?”

Before I can move, his hand snaps out—fist in my hair, dragging me close with predatory grace.

His mouth brushes mine. “Then I’ll break you… until you forget every name but mine.”

A beat. A breath.

“Or I’ll do it to your friend.” His voice chills ten degrees. “The choice is yours.”

I can barely breathe.

My heart cracks from the inside out. I know if I let out the smallest breath, even for a second, I’ll break.

“Buy us both,” I whisper. “Buy us both and set her free.”

He tilts his head, slow and curious—like he’s studying a work of art he doesn’t quite believe is worth the asking price.

His expression shifts, unreadable. “And why would I do that?”

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