Chapter 17
Christina’s fists tightened under the mask, her heart racing as she tried to remain composed. She had hoped to avoid this moment, but now, with Brayden bidding in the auction, she could see it was too late. He didn’t recognize her. He thinks I’m Peacock…
The auction price escalated quickly—first to ten thousand, then to hundreds of thousands, and soon, it soared into the millions. Christina’s stomach churned as she stood motionless on stage, uncertain whether she should stop it or let it continue. She could feel the weight of Brayden’s eyes on her, and the thought of him bidding for her felt like an unbearable weight.
She wanted to speak up, to explain herself, but the words stuck in her throat. She was a dancer, but not like this—not for Brayden, not for anyone else. She wasn’t sure if she could bear it if he found out.
Freya, noticing Brayden’s growing anxiety, couldn’t help but feel a sharp sting of jealousy. How could he care so much about Christina? Her mind raced with resentment. She had hoped that by bringing Brayden here, she could expose Christina for working at the bar and ruin her chances with him. But now it seemed like the tables were turning. Freya forced a tight smile. “Brayden, Christina volunteered to be a dancer. Even if you’re worried about her, she won’t care at all.”
Brayden’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching. He didn’t say a word, but it was clear from the way his gaze remained fixed on the stage that he wasn’t convinced.
Just as the bidding was about to be called off, a deep, commanding voice echoed from the crowd. “Five million.”
The crowd fell silent, all eyes darting toward the figure in the darkness. The man stood tall, his presence unmistakable. Nathaniel Hadley.
His appearance on the stage sent a ripple through the room. His sharp, handsome features were made even more striking by the dim lighting, and the aura of wealth and power that surrounded him left the audience in stunned silence. The bid of five million was absurd—no one could top it.
The moment Nathaniel’s bid secured the victory, he began to stride confidently toward Christina, his eyes locked on her. Christina felt a pang of unease, a chill that crept up her spine. What is he doing here? She had no chance to process her thoughts before Brayden surged forward, his hand grabbing hers in a fierce grip.
“Come with me,” Brayden demanded, his voice full of urgency.
Christina flinched at the pain in her wrist. She didn’t want to cause a scene, but the discomfort of his grasp was unmistakable. “Brayden, let me explain—”
Before she could finish, another hand grabbed her other wrist. Nathaniel.
“Let her go,” Nathaniel’s voice was cold, his grip firm and unyielding.
The tension between the two men was palpable, their gazes locked in a silent battle for dominance. Christina found herself caught in the middle, her arms pulled in opposite directions. Her body was pulled taut, and she struggled to keep her composure. What is happening? Why are they fighting over me?
The crowd buzzed with excitement, the drama unfolding before them like a spectacle. It was clear that this wasn’t just about the dance anymore—it was about something deeper, something more personal.
Freya, standing in the back, watched with growing fury. Her jealousy festered as she watched two men—two powerful, handsome men—fight over Christina. She doesn’t deserve this attention. She’s just an object, a pawn in a family’s game.
Her anger boiled over as she stormed onto the stage, her eyes fixed on Christina with an icy stare. “Enough of this.” She marched directly up to Christina, who flinched slightly at the confrontation.
Freya didn’t even give Christina a chance to react before she reached for her mask and pulled it off in one swift motion.
The audience gasped collectively, their astonished murmurs filling the air. Christina’s face was revealed to the crowd in all its delicate beauty—her porcelain skin, her mesmerizing eyes, and the softness of her features that seemed to captivate everyone in the room. She was unlike any woman they had seen before.
Freya, noticing the stunned looks on everyone’s faces, couldn’t help but smirk inwardly. She turned to Brayden, her voice dripping with venom. “Brayden, shouldn’t Christina be at the Hadley residence right now?”
Christina’s heart sank. Why is she saying this? She couldn’t understand why Freya would expose her like this, not in front of Brayden, not in front of everyone. Her thoughts spun as Freya continued, adding fuel to the fire.
“You’re working as a dancer here, Christina?” Freya asked, her voice feigning concern but laced with a hint of cruelty. “Won’t your husband throw you out if he finds out? What will the Hadleys think?”
The words stung like a slap to the face. Freya had just revealed everything Christina had worked so hard to hide, to keep private. The secrecy of her marriage, the desperation behind her choices—it was all laid bare in front of Brayden.
Christina’s face flushed, her heart racing. She tried to gather herself, but the pain of betrayal cut deep. Freya… Her best friend had just exposed her to tear her down, to ensure Brayden would see her in the worst light possible.
Freya, sensing her victory, approached Christina once more, her gaze dark and filled with contempt. “You’re married, yet you’re here, dancing for money. What kind of wife does that? What do you really want, Christina?”