Chapter 3

Just then, my gaze snagged on a figure in the crowd.

Jordan sat at the far edge of the room, dressed in a simple white shirt. His posture was aloof, refined, his brow furrowed tightly.

A thought, sudden and reckless, took hold.

If I was supposed to seduce him, why not start now?

I steadied my breathing, forcing my voice into something calm. "Alright. I'll dance. But I'll need a partner."

Every eye followed the line of my pointed finger, landing on the man in the corner. "Him."

With a sharp clink, George's lighter hit the floor. His gaze snapped to me, dark and venomous.

Even Jordan seemed startled, caught completely off guard.

Before anyone could react, I stepped forward barefoot, walking toward Jordan with a deliberate, practiced poise. His ears flushed red, yet he didn't pull away as I took his hand and led him to the center of the room.

The brushed fabric of his trousers grazed my bare leg—a touch like a feather that ignited a spark deep within me.

The music swelled.

George shot to his feet.

I leaned close to Jordan's neck and let out a soft, conspiratorial laugh. From the corner of my eye, I saw George’s fists clench, his knuckles turning white.

Sarah tilted her face up to speak to him, but his eyes were locked on me, something violent churning in their depths.

And just as I tried to catch that flicker of emotion, he turned away… and pressed a kiss to Sarah’s forehead.

I let my fingers trail across Jordan's chest, casual yet deliberate, my body molding against his. I felt his stiffness and the uneven drag of his breath.

The room erupted in cheers and whistles.

George’s face grew darker, his gaze searing, like a fire ready to consume everything.

Then, just as I spun in Jordan's arms, about to fall back against him—

The music cut off.

George stormed forward, yanking me violently from Jordan's hold. He ripped off his own jacket and wrapped it around me, roughly covering the skin that had been on display.

"Enough!" he snarled, his voice vibrating with a fury he could barely contain.

Something fragile fluttered in my chest. Was he… jealous? Did he actually care?

But then I saw Sarah’s red-rimmed eyes, her face a mask of wounded grievance.

The answer was clear.

It wasn’t me he cared about.

It was his perfect Sarah. He couldn't bear to see her hurt.

Of course—right in front of her, I had danced with her ex-lover in a blatant, intimate display. How could she not be wounded?

George swept a cold, commanding glance across the room.

"Out. All of you."

The room cleared instantly. Sarah lingered, her lips parting to speak, but one look from him silenced her. She shot me a venomous glare, stomped her heel, and stormed out.

In the blink of an eye, the vast living room held only us.

George’s hand clamped around my wrist, dragging me mercilessly toward the bedroom.

My back slammed against the wardrobe. His fingers gripped my chin, his breath hot and ragged against my face. "Did you enjoy yourself? Dancing for him?"

"Catelyn," his voice was a low, dangerous threat, "you dare seduce another man right in front of me?"

I pushed against his chest, struggling. "Weren't you the one who told me to seduce him? I'm just getting a head start on my assignment."

His eyes flashed with pure darkness. In the next instant, he threw me onto the bed, his body looming over mine.

With a vicious rip, the flimsy lace tore apart.

The sound of shredding fabric filled the air as I stared blankly at the chandelier above, my mind flashing back to being seventeen, dancing under a single spotlight in the school auditorium. Back then, too, there had been eyes like his, burning with an intensity hot enough to set the whole spring on fire.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, his gaze dripping with scorn. "You're nothing but something I bought. Whatever I tell you to do—you do. When I say stop—you stop. You don't have the right to refuse."

Each word was a vise around my heart, squeezing tighter.

Yes. I was just a purchased stand-in. What right did I have to resist?

George said no more. He took me with a punishing fury, every movement laced with retribution.

And I just lay there, still and silent, staring up at the ceiling as tears slipped soundlessly down my temples and into my hair.

When he finally noticed my absolute stillness, he froze. His forehead pressed into the crook of my neck.

And then, I felt hot droplets on my skin.

His voice trembled, hoarse with apology.

"I'm sorry, Catelyn. I lost my temper… I just—"