Page 16 of His By Contract
The sensation of being watched prickled across her skin. Different from the others. More intense. More focused. Georgia scanned the room until she found its source.
A man stood apart from the circles of wealth and influence. His stance spoke of confidence, but not the manufactured kind that filled the room. His eyes locked with hers, sharp and calculating, dissecting every inch of her. No judgment colored his expression, only a clinical sort of interest that made her pulse quicken.
He didn’t look away when she caught him staring. Instead, his gaze grew more intent, as if she were a puzzle he intended to solve.
Adrian’s hand found the small of Georgia’s back, the pressure both possessive and warning. His expression remained neutral, unbothered by the ripples of gossip that spread through the crowd like poison. If anything, his silence amplified their speculation, as if he enjoyed watching them squirm with curiosity.
The weight of his fingers against her spine reminded her of her role. Stand straight. Smile. Play the perfect wife. But the man across the room hadn’t moved, hadn’t joined the whispered conversations. His attention felt different from the others, less about scandal and more about strategy.
Georgia’s skin prickled. The emerald silk suddenly felt like armor, and she wondered if that had been Adrian’s intent all along. Not just to dress her, but to mark her. To present her as something both valuable and dangerous.
The other guests circled them like sharks scenting blood, their practiced smiles barely masking their hunger for weakness. But Adrian’s calm seemed to frustrate them, drive them to bolder moves.
“Such an unexpected match,” a woman in diamonds murmured, loud enough to carry. “One wonders about the… arrangement.”
Georgia’s chest tightened. They were testing her, measuring her reactions, searching for cracks in her facade. The man watching her shifted slightly, his attention sharpening at the comment.
She felt it then, the current of power running beneath the surface of champagne and small talk. This wasn’t just about her marriage to Adrian. These people weren’t just curious, they were assessing. Calculating. Looking for something beyond the simple scandal of a wealthy man marrying beneath his station.
Georgia lifted her chin, meeting the stranger’s gaze directly. His eyes narrowed, and she saw the flash of something like approval cross his face. Whatever game was being played tonight, she’d just made a move without knowing the rules.
A woman walked toward Georgia, her smile polished to perfection. Georgia recognized her as Diana Bennett, one of Celeste’s closest allies in their social circle. The diamonds at her throat caught the light with each calculated step.
“Georgia, darling.” Diana’s voice dripped honey, but her eyes remained cold. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.”
The circle around them widened slightly, other guests turning to watch the exchange. Georgia felt their attention like a physical weight.
“How lovely to meet you.” Diana’s perfectly manicured hand brushed Georgia’s arm. “Tell me, what exactly is it that you do?”
The question hung in the air. Georgia’s throat tightened as she recognized the trap. Answer with her former profession, and she’d confirm their whispers about her common roots. Claim to be Adrian’s wife, and they’d mock her presumption. Stay silent, and appear weak.
“She’s Adrian’s latest investment, isn’t she?”
The voice cut through the tension. The man who’d tracked her all evening stepped forward, each word a calculated strike. His smile didn’t reach his eyes as he regarded Diana. “Though I suspect you already knew that.”
The atmosphere shifted. Diana’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. This wasn’t just about humiliating the newcomer anymore; the stranger had turned it into something else. Hiswords carried a double edge, challenging not just Georgia’s position, but Adrian’s choices.
Georgia felt the change ripple through the crowd. Their focus sharpened, hungry for more than simple social blood sport. She’d become a piece in a larger game, one whose rules she didn’t understand.
Adrian’s arm slipped around Georgia’s waist, the gesture casual, but unmistakable in its claim. His fingers pressed into her hip, anchoring her to his side.
“Mr. Vaughn.” Adrian’s voice carried the chill of a winter storm. “I wasn’t aware you’d been invited.”
The stranger’s—Vaughn’s—smile widened, but his eyes remained fixed on Georgia. “The Sinclairs are old friends. Though I must admit your new wife was the draw tonight.”
Georgia’s skin prickled. The way he said ‘wife’ felt wrong, loaded with meaning she couldn’t decipher.
Adrian’s thumb traced a small circle against her hip. “Georgia, darling, I believe the Hayworths wanted a word.” He guided her away from the group, his movements fluid and natural. “Richard, always a pleasure to see you leave.”
Georgia felt Adrian’s fingers dig deeper into her hip as they moved through the crowd. His touch seared through the silk of her dress, marking possession rather than love. The other guests parted before them like water, their faces a blur of practiced smiles and watchful eyes.
But she couldn’t shake the weight of Richard Vaughn’s gaze on her back. The way he’d stepped into that moment with Dianahadn’t been random. Each word, each gesture had been chosen to provoke Adrian, using her as the pressure point.
The realization settled cold in her stomach. She’d seen enough power plays in the fashion world to recognize one, but this felt different. Bigger. More dangerous. Where Celeste wielded social influence like a knife, Richard Vaughn’s presence suggested something darker. Something that made even Adrian’s iron control crack, if only for a moment.
Adrian steered her toward a couple near the bar, but Georgia barely registered their introduction. Her mind raced back through the exchange, catching details she’d missed. The way the other guests had shifted when Vaughn spoke. How Diana’s attack had transformed from simple cruelty into something strategic. Even Adrian’s response—swift, decisive, but almost too quick, as if Vaughn’s appearance had forced his hand.
She glanced across the room. Vaughn stood with a small group now, champagne in hand, laughing at something. But when he caught her looking, his smile changed. It wasn’t mocking or cruel. It was knowing. As if he saw right through her marriage contract, through Adrian’s carefully constructed façade, through every layer of protection money could buy.
