Upgraded to His Uncle

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The sharp sting of a slap exploded across my cheek, snapping my head to the side.

My half-sister, Hazel, pointed a trembling finger at me. You shameless little tramp! You crawled into Pierce's bed the second my flight took off!

I touched the burning skin of my cheek. I closed the distance in a heartbeat, grabbing the neckline of her ridiculously expensive velvet dress.

I slammed her hard against the solid wood coffee table and drove a brutal backhand across her jaw.

She gasped, crumbling against the edge of the table.

The heavy double doors slammed open. Pierce burst into the room, immediately scooping her into his arms. He fixed his gaze on me, his eyes as dead and cold as frozen steel.

I swallowed the metallic taste of blood. My gig as the high-end stand-in was officially over.

That night, he slid the deed to a luxury penthouse, an unlimited black card, and a stack of offshore trust documents across the marble island. He announced his engagement to Hazel and told me to get out and stay out.

I didn't shed a single tear, and my hands didn't shake. I just packed my bags, swept up my massive severance package, and walked out. The heavy click of the front door locking behind me was the only answer I gave him.

Months later, when Pierce finally tracked me down, I looked at him and flashed a perfectly hollow smile. "Sorry," I said. "The stand-in service is permanently discontinued."

Chapter 1

Hazel called me an arrogant mistress. Her face was flushed. We shared the same long dark hair cascading down our shoulders, but that was where the similarities ended.

In her simple dress, she played the perfect, pitiful victim. I was the villain.

She shoved a finger in my face. "Roxy, I leave the country for one year, and you crawl right into Pierce's bed! Have you no shame?"

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. "Shame? Does that pay the bills?"

She shook, tears welling in her eyes. "You actually think you won? Pierce still loves me. You're just a pathetic stand-in, and you don't even realize it!"

My grip tightened on my own arms, but I plastered on a mocking smile. "Maybe. But he still screws me every single night. Multiple times."

I yanked down the collar of my silk robe, flashing the dark purple bruises marking my collarbone. "Last night's marks haven't even faded. If I weren't religious about my birth control, you'd be buying baby powder for my shower right now."

Tears spilled down Hazel's cheeks. "Roxy, how could a trashy bitch like you share the same father as me?"

I scoffed, looking down. I wondered the exact same thing.

I looked back up at her. "Probably because your mother was just as trashy. She wrecked a marriage and stole a husband to pop out a bastard like you."

"You!" Her face turned tomato-red. She swung, her palm connecting hard with my cheek.

I touched the burning skin of my cheek. I closed the distance in a heartbeat, grabbing the neckline of her ridiculously expensive velvet dress.

I slammed her hard against the solid wood coffee table and drove a brutal backhand across her jaw.

A red welt bloomed instantly on her cheek. She stumbled back, sobbing hysterically.

I pulled out my phone to call security and have her thrown out.

Her eyes widened. She clutched her face and sprinted toward the entrance. "Pierce! I'm so scared!"

My stomach dropped into my shoes. I turned. Pierce stood in the doorway, a towering block of ice.

He pulled Hazel into his chest, rubbing her back with agonizingly gentle strokes. Tucked safely in his embrace, Hazel shot me a smug, triumphant smirk.

The air drained from my lungs. One look at his protective grip, and I knew the war was over before it even started.

Of course it was. I was just the placeholder he picked up when she stormed off to Europe. A convenient lookalike.

A warm body I volunteered to keep his bed occupied. You don't get to replace the real thing.

Still, my nails dug into my palms. I forced my stiff muscles to move, walking toward him with a tight smile, reaching for his briefcase. "Pierce. You're home."

He stared at me like I was a stranger off the street. Just last night, my nails had been digging into his back. This morning, I tied his tie and kissed him goodbye.

Now, watching him hold her, I was the intruder. Every ounce of hope I had left turned to lead in my gut.

"Pierce," Hazel whimpered against his shirt. "I regret leaving so much. If I had stayed, I wouldn't have lost you."

He looked down at her. His cold eyes softened entirely. He stroked her hair.

With every brush of his fingers, my chest tightened. He waited until her sobbing reduced to soft hiccups. Finally, his gaze flicked to me.

His expression was blank, but he spoke to her. "Did Roxy hurt you?"

I ground my back teeth together. I kept my mouth shut.

"Roxy just has a quick temper," Hazel choked out. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just showed up unannounced. She has every right to be mad at me."

A flawless, Oscar-worthy performance.

I lowered my gaze, staring dead at the floor.

Chapter 2

Pierce's expression said it all. Any defense I offered would just be white noise. Stand-ins don't get the luxury of a rebuttal.

I knew I lost. Just like my mother lost to hers. A total, crushing defeat.

Pierce narrowed his eyes, a hard crease forming between his brows. "Roxy, the first day you moved in, I taught you to know your place. To be smart about this."

I bit the inside of my cheek, letting out a self-deprecating huff as I threw my hands up. "Oh, I'm perfectly smart, Pierce. The stage is all yours. I'm checking out."

The muscle in his jaw feathered. He didn't say a word.

I dropped my gaze, forcing my facial muscles into a practiced, easy smile. "Call me later. We can discuss the severance package."

I didn't wait for his answer. I spun on my heel and strode right out the door.

My chest felt like it was caving in, but my brain was working in overdrive. I knew the drill. If I played the compliant, understanding ex and made a clean break, Pierce's ego would ensure a massive payout. Call me a gold digger, but if I was losing the man, I sure as hell wasn't leaving the money on the table.

Just as I stepped over the threshold, his voice clipped my name from behind. "Roxy."

A stupid, pathetic flutter hitched in my chest. I glanced over my shoulder, hating myself for whatever tiny shred of hope I was still clinging to.

Hazel looked up at him too, her arms wrapped in a vice grip around his torso. She let out a fragile, broken whimper, playing the defenseless kitten to perfection.

Pierce looked at me, then down at Hazel. He raised a thumb to wipe a tear from her cheek before his eyes flicked back to mine. "I'll talk to you later."

I faced forward and walked out into the daylight. I took the gamble, and I lost the house.

That evening, Pierce slid the deed to a luxury penthouse, an unlimited black card, and a stack of offshore trust documents across the table, his voice deadpan as he announced his engagement to Hazel, making it explicitly clear that we were officially severed.

I stared down at the crisp paperwork. This stack of paper was my golden ticket. I was set for life.

I nodded. I pulled my lips into a flawless, ninety-percent replica of Hazel's signature sweet smile. "Got it. Thanks for taking such good care of me these past few years."

His brow twitched. A flash of genuine surprise cracked his stoic mask. He hadn't expected the cool detachment. No hysterics, no begging, just a clean, ruthless acceptance.

I stacked my new assets together, my smile turning a little more genuine. "I really appreciate the severance package. Don't worry, you won't even see my shadow. I'll disappear."

The crease between his eyes deepened into a heavy scowl. "You're happy about this breakup, Roxy?"

I snapped the edge of the unlimited black card against the table, not bothering to hide the blatant greed in my eyes. I flashed him a brilliant, sharp grin. "No, Pierce. I'm just extremely satisfied with this massive payout."

A dark, stormy rage brewed in his eyes. A few suffocating seconds ticked by before he abruptly pushed his chair back and walked out.

I couldn't fathom what his problem was. His untouchable first love was finally back in his arms, which meant my shift as the understudy was officially over. Wasn't a clean, drama-free exit exactly what he wanted?

For years, I had meticulously tuned my voice, my wardrobe, and every micro-expression to be the perfect clone of Hazel. I was the ultimate premium substitute.

I'd earned every single cent of that payoff. Yet the second the real deal walked through the door, my breathing oxygen was suddenly an offense.

Gripping my golden parachute, I watched through the floor-to-ceiling windows as his sports car roared to life in the driveway. I shoved whatever lingering feelings I had left into a dark, locked box in my mind. A dry chuckle escaped my lips. Men are so predictable.

The day Pierce walked out, my title upgraded from pathetic stand-in to independent millionaire.

I peeled off the boring, neutral-toned dress. I scrubbed the innocent, barely-there makeup off my face until my skin was raw. I grabbed a garbage bag and started ruthlessly tossing out every pure, modest piece of clothing in my closet.

Pierce bought all of it. It was Hazel's aesthetic. It was never mine.

I slipped into a killer, cherry-red mini dress. I drove straight to the salon, stripped out the dull color, and dyed my hair a rich, vibrant mahogany, styling it into massive, retro waves. I finished the look with a swipe of aggressive crimson lipstick. Now this was the real Roxy.

I dropped a small fortune on racks of clothes and designer heels that actually screamed my name. Riding the high of a brutal retail therapy session, I pulled up to the front gates of the mansion Pierce had just handed over to me.

Growing up at rock bottom forces you to rewire your brain. It makes you callous. Cold-blooded.

Sure, I might feel a momentary flutter of something real, but I would never let myself drown in some fairy-tale romance. I simply couldn't afford the luxury.

Chapter 3

Right now, all I wanted was a good life. A better life than Hazel's. I wanted my mother to have a better life, far beyond whatever Hazel's mother had.

When I first approached Pierce, my goal was crystal clear. I didn't want the man. I wanted a massive payout.

As for those occasional flutters in my chest? I treated them like a passing bad cold.

I stepped out of the sports car. Before I could even head toward the front door, a shadow darted into my path.

Hazel. Her face was set in a hard scowl. "How much did you bleed out of him for the breakup?"

I raised an eyebrow. "More zeros than you can wrap your head around. Premium service guarantees a satisfied sugar daddy."

She let out a sneer of pure disgust. "Who cares about your 'service'? You're just a glorified escort begging for scraps. You'll watch Pierce spoil me rotten, and then you'll go hide in a corner and cry your eyes out."

A genuine laugh slipped past my lips. "Hazel, do you honestly think I'm as obsessed with Pierce as you are?"

I closed the distance between us, lowering my voice to a smooth drawl. "From day one, I never loved him. I just loved his bank account."

"You get the guy, I take his money. It's a win-win. Don't you think?" I was lying through my teeth, but I'd be damned if I showed her an ounce of weakness.

For once, Hazel snapped her mouth shut. But her eyes kept darting to the space right behind me.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A freezing chill rolled down my spine. I turned around.

Pierce stood dead center in the driveway. His jaw was locked tight, his face an impenetrable mask of dark fury.

How could I be so stupid? Hazel didn't ambush me for fun; she set the stage for an audience. I fell for the exact same trap twice.

Hazel practically skipped over to him, shrinking into this frail, terrified little bird. "Pierce, why did you follow me? I just wanted to make peace with Roxy. You didn't have to worry."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close with sickening gentleness, but his dead eyes stayed locked onto mine. "You're really something, Roxy."

I bit the inside of my cheek and forced a razor-sharp grin. "Thanks for the compliment. Want to come inside for a cup of tea?"

A harsh scoff tore from his throat. "No. You disgust me." He turned and walked away, keeping his arm firmly around Hazel, never looking back.

I stared at his retreating back for a long beat. Then, I spun on my heel and walked into my new house.

That very night, I moved my mother out of her sketchy, crime-ridden low-rent apartment and straight into this heavily fortified luxury mansion.

With my mother settled, half my life's mission was complete. I headed to the master suite to sleep. The mattress was massive. The space beside me was empty.

No body heat to leech off of. I always hated the cold. For years, the only way I could fall asleep was buried tight against Pierce's chest.

Tonight, the chill seeped right into my bones. I wasn't as immune as I pretended to be. I stared at the ceiling until the sun started to rise.

The second I woke up, I walked straight into the private study. I traced my fingertips across the edge of the heavy mahogany desk, staring at the empty leather chair.

Countless nights, Pierce sat right there crunching numbers and closing deals while I brewed his tea and sat quietly by his side. I was the flawless companion. I did everything Hazel would do, and I did all the things she wouldn't.

Over the years, I didn't just pour tea. I absorbed his entire investment playbook and copied his business strategies down to the letter. I was his absolute best student.

My fingers brushed past his discarded ceramic teacup. I brewed a fresh pot for myself. I walked around the desk and sank into Pierce's massive leather chair.

He was generous. The severance package gave me more than enough capital to start playing the game. He dragged me to enough high-society galas and boardroom dinners to hand me a platinum network of contacts.

I finished my tea. I stood up, washed my face, and zipped myself into a sharp designer dress paired with killer stilettos. I made three quick phone calls, grabbed my purse, and headed out the door.

I played the cheap knockoff version of Hazel for a whole year just waiting for this exact day.

The day I started my climb to the top.

Chapter 4

The day my mother and I were thrown out of the Richard family estate, I realized a hard truth: being a wife was a useless gig. Be the boss instead. Bosses don't get laid off. Wives get replaced the second a newer model hits the market.

From the very first day I approached Pierce, playing the devoted sugar baby was never my endgame. I didn't want to be with Pierce.

I wanted to be Pierce.

For the next few days, I was out practically twenty-four seven. I lived in boardrooms by day and endured forced networking dinners by night. When I was with Pierce, I played the pure, innocent girl who never touched a drop of alcohol. Now, I zipped myself into the most provocative designer dresses I owned, downed shots of top-shelf liquor without flinching, and navigated a shark tank of arrogant billionaires.

When word got around that Pierce officially dumped me, a few of them were visibly stunned. Then, their eyes would drift down to the exposed expanse of pale skin on my thighs, and they'd offer their "sympathy" with lingering pats on my arms and hands.

I couldn't care less. I just needed my foot in the door of this exclusive boys' club, and I was willing to pay whatever entry fee was required. Dignity is a luxury reserved for the powerful.

For the most part, they maintained a thin veneer of high-society etiquette. Aside from sleazy innuendos and aggressively passing me their private numbers, no one crossed the line. Until I ran into a slimy, oil-rich boomer who relied heavily on his net worth to compensate for his repulsiveness. He cornered me, forced top-shelf vodka down my throat, and practically dragged me into a dimly lit VIP booth to force himself on me.

My limbs turned to jelly. A cold sweat broke across my spine as I realized he spiked my drink. I bit down on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, desperately trying to stay conscious as my trembling fingers mashed a number on my phone.

Minutes later, the club owner and a team of bouncers kicked the door in, hauled the creep off me, and dragged me out of the booth.

Half an hour later, Pierce materialized in the lobby. He radiated pure, freezing wrath, his dark eyes burning into the deep plunge of my neckline.

When my brain went into complete survival mode, his was the only number I remembered. Seeing him standing there, the crushing panic finally released its grip. I managed a weak, pathetic smile before my vision went completely black.

When I finally regained consciousness, I was lying on crisp hotel sheets.

Pierce's voice drifted out from the attached bathroom. "Go to sleep, Hazel. I'll be home right after I finish dealing with this."

The tenderness in his tone hit me like a physical blow. I had never heard him speak like that before. A sharp, acidic sting flared in my chest.

Back when we were tangled in the sheets, sweating and desperate, my brain had stupidly short-circuited. A treacherous hope flared in my chestthat I was the only woman in his eyes. I almost let my guard down enough to act like a real girlfriend and demand a commitment. But the absolute second his brow even twitched in annoyance, I forced a laugh, looped my arms around his neck, and never brought it up again.

I let out a shaky breath, staring at the ceiling until he wrapped up his call and walked out of the bathroom.

He tossed a long, shapeless dress onto the bed. The designer tags were still attached. God knows what boutique he woke up to procure it. The fabric was blindingly white and designed to cover every inch of skin from my collarbone to my ankles.

"Look at yourself, Roxy," he sneered, his gaze sweeping over my riding-up red mini dress with absolute disdain. "You're acting like trash."

The polite smile I was trying to construct died instantly on my lips.

He jerked his chin toward me. "Are you really that desperate for cash? Was my payout not enough to cover your shopping addiction? You have to resort to whoring yourself out at clubs?"

I dropped my gaze, slid off the bed, and jammed my feet back into my stilettos. I stood up straight and faced him, stretching my lips into a hollow, mocking smile.

"You nailed it, Pierce. I am trash. If I wasn't, why would I have ever happily volunteered to be a cheap stand-in for your precious first love?"

"What did you just say?" A dangerous, dark edge flashed in his eyes.

I tipped my chin up. For the first time since we met, I dropped the flawless, compliant act.

"No matter how trashy I am, Pierce, you still screwed me every night for a year. No matter how trashy I am, I never cheated on my old lover. And no matter how trashy I am, I'm still a legitimate daughter who didn't steal another woman's father."

The dangerous edge in his eyes ignited into a roaring fire.

I bared my teeth in a bitter sneer. "You've never missed a meal in your life, so you obviously can't comprehend the absolute terror of not having enough money. It's real easy to judge from your ivory tower."

"If you actually give a damn about me, why don't you go home and ask your sweet, innocent fiance why the hell she was born? Ask her why she ruined my life and dragged me from the penthouse down to the gutter. Ask her why she felt the need to steal my man, and then brag that the unloved one is the real homewrecker!"

His expression faltered. The icy mask cracked. It was probably because he was genuinely stunned. He had never seen me cry before.

I aggressively swiped the hot tears off my cheeks. Honestly, I was just as shocked as he was.

Chapter 5

I honestly thought climbing to the top was the only thing I cared about. I thought years of grinding in the dirt had burned away my capacity for normal human emotions. I figured things like heartbreak, joy, love, and jealousy were luxuries I couldn't afford. But I never expected this crushing, suffocating weight of sheer unfairness to hit me this hard.

I shoved his chest hard, stumbling out of the hotel room. I practically threw myself into the back of a cab, my fingernails digging into my palms while the hot tears refused to stop falling.

Once upon a time, I was the pampered little princess of the house. And then I was reduced to a cheap stand-in for a bastard daughter. Reduced to a piece of meat for rich old creeps to grab at.

Why? I refused to accept it.

After that night, Pierce's name completely disappeared from my phone screen. But all those investments I was pitching? They suddenly closed without a single hitch.

A few highly profitable startups even knocked on my door out of nowhere. And those networking dinners? Not a single slimy hand brushed my thigh. Everyone was agonizingly polite.

There was only one logical explanation: Pierce made some calls.

I didn't hesitate to take full advantage of it. Growing up dead broke teaches you how to be utterly ruthless. If a resource could launch me up the ladder, I'd gladly use it, even if it came from my ex-sugar daddy.

With everything running smoothly, I finally had room to breathe. I enrolled in an MBA program, soaking up the lectures and building my own network. I registered my own investment firm and started aggressively headhunting talent.

Waiting around for someone to buy you diamonds is pathetic; buying them yourself is power.

I was sharp, hungry, and knew how to play the social game. Slowly but surely, I carved out my own territory in the elite circles. The exclusive high-society galas that used to ignore me started slipping invitations under my door.

Just like tonight. Some billionaire tech titan was throwing a massive birthday bash. His son was in my MBA cohort, so I scored an invite.

The second I walked into the ballroom, I spotted my father, Richard, nursing a drink. It made sense. He was a highly successful businessman, a real heavyweight in this city. Everyone worshipped his self-made success story.

Nobody knew he started out with absolutely nothing, leeching off my grandfather's empire. Nobody knew that after he drained every last cent of the inheritance meant for my mother, he moved his mistress and his bastard daughter into our house and threw us out on the street like garbage.

He completely disowned me, all because I took my mother's maiden name after the divorce instead of keeping his. He saw the name change as an ultimate betrayal, a permanent severing of ties. From that day on, my mother and I survived in the absolute dirt.

We had been slapped with so many eviction notices from our landlords that I had to work brutal double shifts at fast-food joints just to keep the lights on. I spent countless late nights gripping a can of pepper spray until my knuckles turned white, running through dangerous, rundown neighborhoods just to save a few pathetic bucks on bus fare.

Now, standing just a few feet away, I watched Richard and Pierce practically trip over each other to pamper Hazel. A dry laugh caught in my throat.

The world is a sick, twisted joke sometimes. That epic, fairy-tale romance everyone always preaches about?

It's not about loyalty. It's just a game of survival of the fittest. A terrible return on investment.

I shifted my gaze away, adjusting my grip on my champagne flute, ready to go network somewhere else.

The second I took a step, Hazel's radar locked onto me.

"Roxy!" she chirped, her voice piercing the ambient music.

I couldn't even pretend I didn't hear her. She jogged over and hooked her arm through mine.

"Why didn't you come say hi to Dad? Family is family. Are you still throwing a tantrum?"

Without giving me a chance to rip my arm away, she dragged me right in front of Richard.

Richard let out a heavy snort, his eyes dripping with pure disgust. He glared at me. "You crashed this party dressed like that just to seduce Pierce again?"

I stretched my lips into a sickeningly sweet smile and shot Pierce a slow, deliberate look. "Is that what you think?"

Pierce didn't say a word. His dark, bottomless eyes just slowly dragged down the length of my skin-tight cocktail dress.

Richard snapped again. "Where did you learn to act like such a cheap tramp? Is this how your mother raised you?"

I arched an eyebrow. "I learned it from your current wife, actually. It's exactly how she managed to kick me out of my own house, so I made sure to take meticulous notes."

Hazel's face flushed a furious, blotchy red. "Roxy, how dare you insult my mother! She and Dad got together because they fell in love!"

Chapter 6

A sharp laugh ripped from my throat. "Joined by love? You mean sneaking around having affairs in cheap motels?"

"Roxy!"

Smack!

Pierce's sharp warning and the explosive crack of a slap rang out at the exact same time. Richard had swung hard. The brutal impact landed right on my ear, sending a deafening ring through my skull.

The ambient chatter in the ballroom died instantly as every head snapped toward us. Shock rippled across the crowd. Every face was frozen in horror, except for one. Directly across from me, a tall man swirled his champagne glass, his eyes glinting with pure, unfiltered amusement.

That look felt like a lit match dropped on gasoline. I absolutely despised being a public spectacle. Every drop of blood and sweat I poured into climbing to the top was supposed to erase the humiliation of being thrown out like garbage by my own father. It was supposed to buy my dignity back. But here I was, grinding my way up, only to be publicly slapped and treated like a sideshow act.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Richard? You have no right to touch me."

I didn't cover my face and cry. Instead, I snatched a glass of ice water off the nearby table and threw it directly into his hypocritical face without a second of hesitation. Then, I shoved him hard enough to send him crashing into a towering, expensive champagne pyramid.

"I am your father!" he yelled, his face dripping wet and purple with rage as he raised his hand for a second strike.

Before his palm could connect, Pierce's hand shot out, clamping around Richard's wrist like a steel vise. Pierce stared at him, his face a blank mask.

Richard swallowed hard, slowly lowering his arm.

Hazel looked frantically between Pierce and me. She tugged at Pierce's sleeve. "Pierce, let go of my dad. You're hurting him, he's getting old."

The ringing in my ear was still drowning out the music, but another bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat.

Without warning, Pierce dropped Richard's wrist, seized my forearm, and dragged me toward the private restrooms in the back corridor. I stumbled in my stilettos, practically yanked off my feet.

As he hauled me past the tall, amused man, I actually heard a smooth, low voice. "Hi."

I didn't even have the breath to respond. Pierce's grip was unrelenting as he pulled me down the dim hallway. He shoved the heavy door to the restroom lobby open and finally released me. He stepped right into my space, his thumb reaching out to graze my stinging cheek. "Does it hurt?"

A sudden, suffocating wave of grievance hit the back of my throat. I squeezd my eyes shut, forcing the hot sting of tears back down.

Pierce's gaze dropped to my sharp, winged eyeliner. The darkness in his eyes deepened. "You insulted Hazel's mother first," he said, his voice dropping to a low, commanding register. "You were out of line. Go back out there, apologize to Hazel, and I'll drive you home."

My eyes snapped open. The ringing in my ear must have been messing with my brain. "Are you out of your damn mind, Pierce?"

Adrenaline spiked through my veins. I slapped his hand away. "Who the hell do you think you are to demand an apology from me? You're nothing but my ex-sugar daddy. Don't act like you have any right to police me."

The air around him dropped ten degrees. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "What did you just say to me, Roxy?"

"I said you're a former paycheck. The transaction is over. Our accounts are settled! You know nothing, so stop playing the damn peacemaker!"

My blood boiled. He wanted me to apologize to Hazel. What a joke. In my darkest, most pathetic moments, I actually used to wonder if I had carved out even a millimeter of space in his heart. Now, staring at him, I realized I was just being stupid. Hoping for a fairy tale when you're fully aware you're the disposable extra is just self-inflicted torture.

Pierce's hand shot out again, his fingers locking around my wrist so hard that a cold sweat broke out across the back of my neck. The muscles in his jaw ticked. The primal danger radiating off him was suffocating. He didn't yell. His face remained chillingly smooth, but his eyes were bottomless pits. "So," he breathed, the sound scraping against my ear. "Only a sugar daddy can get you to obey?"

I set my jaw, locking my eyes with his in pure defiance, refusing to give him a single syllable.

He stepped into the negative space between us, obliterating the distance. He leaned down, his breath ghosting over my lips, our noses practically brushing. "Name your price."

My brain flatlined. I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

Pierce's gaze dropped to my mouth. "Name your price," he repeated, every syllable laced with heavy, undeniable intent. "I'm buying you back."

A genuine, incredulous laugh burst out of me. "Are you looking for a side piece? You want to cheat on Hazel?"

A twisted knot pulled tight in my stomach. Half of me wanted him to say yes, just to destroy her perfect illusion. The other half wanted him to deny it.

Pierce's dark eyes tracked down to the exposed sweep of my collarbone. His Adam's apple bobbed. A heavy, unfamiliar heat flared in his pupilsa raw, predatory hunger that was never there even during our most intense nights together. "Roxy," he rasped, his voice rough and laced with absolute possession. "I really don't like this new attitude of yours. Or this dress."

Chapter 7

His large hand clamped over my bare collarbone, his thumb brushing against my skin. "I won't do anything to betray Hazel. But I want you strictly under my protection. Be a good girl. Stop doing things that are going to get you hurt."

A laugh ripped out of me so hard my eyes actually watered. "So, the great Pierce wants a platonic side piece? Sorry to burst your bubble. I have zero patience for emotional hand-holding. I only offer my body, never my conversation."

The darkness in his eyes thickened. His grip tightened hard enough to bruise my shoulder. He opened his mouth to fire back, but a low, mocking laugh echoed from the end of the hallway, cutting him off.

"Pierce. Your little girlfriend is looking for you." The voice was smooth, cold, and dripping with sarcasm.

We both snapped our heads toward the sound. It was the tall man from the ballroomthe one who had been highly entertained by my public humiliation. He caught my eye and shot me a deliberate wink.

Up close, the physical resemblance to Pierce was undeniable. They shared the same sharp, ruthless bone structure and striking features. He extended a hand toward me. "Sebastian