Chapter 17

Alexander POV

Alexander Millers did not usually attend auctions in person.

He had no reason to.

He had men for that—people who handled his acquisitions, who knew exactly what he wanted, who could make absurd purchases without him having to lift a damn finger.

But tonight?

He had come himself.

And he wasn't sure why.

The Thrill of Owning Something Priceless

The bidding had gone exactly as expected.

The clothes were a spectacle—Laurent Devereaux knew how to command a room, knew how to make the rich fight each other with numbers instead of words.

Alexander had watched with mild interest, but it wasn't until the jewelry came up that his focus sharpened.

Her pieces.

Gie's.

He had been wearing one of her designs for weeks now, but this was the first time he was seeing how much the world valued her work.

The prices climbed.

Faster than the garments.

The elite fought over what she had crafted, numbers soaring past millions in minutes.

She had built her reputation on exclusivity, and tonight, she had cemented herself as untouchable.

But what caught his attention was her.

The Woman Behind the Art

She was sitting a few rows behind Laurent, half-hidden in the dim glow of the ballroom, watching the bidding like she was somewhere else entirely.

Most artists—when their work was being sold for millions—would have watched with pride, with smugness, with a sense of power.

But Gie?

She looked almost overwhelmed.

Like she was trying to process something bigger than herself.

And that did something to him.

Because people like her weren't supposed to be affected by things like this.

She had been in the luxury world for years.

She worked with the rich, designed for the powerful, crafted pieces that only the top one percent could even dream of touching.

So why did she look so stunned by the very thing she had created?

He kept his gaze on her, watching the way her fingers tightened in her lap, the way her throat moved as she swallowed, the way she seemed to be distracted by something else entirely.

Then, when her ring came up for bidding—

He placed his bid.

$5 million.

The final bid.

Not because he needed another piece of jewelry.

Not because he cared about winning.

But because something about her reaction made him want to claim it.

And that?

That was something he didn't have an answer for.

The Woman in Midnight Blue

Then came the afterparty.

And then—her.

Up close, she was even more stunning.

She wasn't the kind of woman who tried to demand attention.

But tonight?

She didn't have to try at all.

Her dress was midnight against her skin, clinging to her in all the right places, the gold embroidery cascading over her shoulder like a delicate masterpiece.

The sapphire around her throat?

Her own creation.

Simple. Beautiful.

The kind of jewelry that enhanced, not overpowered.

Just like her.

And then—

Her eyes.

He noticed it immediately.

She wasn't looking at him the way most women did.

Not with intent.

Not with carefully placed flirtation.

But she was staring.

At his mouth.

Does She Even Notice People?

Alexander was not unfamiliar with being watched.

Women looked at him.

All the time.

But this was different.

Because Gie didn't look at him like she was trying to draw him in.

She looked like she had just realized his mouth existed for the first time.

Like she was studying it, observing every move, every flicker, every shift of his lips when he spoke.

He almost smirked.

He wondered if she even noticed people at all.

Or if she only noticed details—things she could study, things she could capture in her mind the way she did with jewelry.

Was she seeing something in him she wanted to craft?

Or was it something else?

Something that made her thighs press together under the table?

The thought was too interesting.

But then—

She tried to escape.

The Fall That Changed Everything

He had expected her to run.

She was unraveling—he could see it in the way she fidgeted, in the way her sentences became choppy, in the way she suddenly wanted to leave.

But he hadn't expected her to trip right into his lap.

Her body crashed into him, her hands landing on his chest, her thigh wedging between his legs.

And that was when he felt it.

Or rather—what he didn't feel.

No Disgust. No Need to Pull Away.

Alexander had always hated being touched.

Even the most casual, meaningless physical contact made his skin crawl.

But this?

Her?

Nothing.

No discomfort.

No cold wave of disgust.

Just… warmth.

She smelled like vanilla and something rich, something faintly spiced, something that made him breathe deeper without realizing it.

Her skin was warm through the fabric of his suit, her weight against him somehow softer than he had expected.

And the way she froze in horror—

It almost made him smile.

She was panicking, completely losing it, her face a deep shade of red, her lips parted slightly as she tried to find words that weren't coming.

Her hands pressed against his chest—not in invitation, not in seduction, just in sheer, frantic desperation to get away.

And yet—

He didn't hate it.

Didn't feel the need to shove her off.

Didn't feel the usual revulsion that came with someone being too close.

And that?

That was unexpected.

Then, of course, she bolted.

Practically stumbling over herself to run away, looking like she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear forever.

And Alexander?

He let out a soft chuckle.

Because for the first time in a long, long time—

Someone had just made him curious.