The Surrogate He Discarded

As the music grew more intense, so did their movements. Their steps became sharper, faster, their bodies moving together as though they had rehearsed the dance countless times.

Kristoff suddenly stopped.

Isobel’s body was caught against his chest.

Her hand rested against his shoulder. His arm remained firmly around her waist.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other.

The final notes of the tango faded into silence.

Then the ballroom erupted in applause.

Isobel finally remembered where they were.

She quickly stepped back.

But Kristoff didn’t release her hand immediately.

His fingers remained wrapped around hers for one extra heartbeat.

Just long enough for her to notice.

Just long enough for him to make one thing clear.

He wasn’t ready to let her go.

Across the ballroom, Mary Dalton had been scowling throughout the entire dance.

She knew her son was an excellent dancer. Kristoff had always possessed the grace, balance, and confidence required to command a dance floor.

But this was different.

The ease with which he moved with Isobel irritated her.

They danced as though they had done this countless times before—as though they already knew each other’s rhythm, each other’s movements, each other’s next step. There was no awkwardness, no hesitation. Kristoff guided her effortlessly, and Isobel followed as if she instinctively understood what he wanted.

They looked far too comfortable together.

Far too much like a couple.

Mary’s lips pressed into a thin line.

With every turn, every lingering glance, and every time Kristoff pulled Isobel closer, the bitter taste in her mouth grew stronger.

She didn’t like what she was seeing.

Not one bit.

...

”That was one hell of an opening.” The host’s lively voice cut through the thunderous applause.

”Thank you, Mr. Dalton and Miss Lancey, for such a wonderful dance. The dance floor is officially open!” ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

The moment the announcement was made, the guests who had paid for a dance began making their way toward the center of the ballroom.

Kristoff’s gaze lingered on Isobel.

He wanted another dance.

He barely had enough time to enjoy the first one, and now that he knew how perfectly she moved with him, he wasn’t ready to give her up just yet.

But before he could step forward, the masked man was already standing in front of them.

”Mr. Dalton,” he said politely. ”I believe it is my turn.”

Kristoff’s hands tightened into fists.

The man’s tone was courteous, but there was something unmistakably deliberate about the way he had positioned himself between Kristoff and Isobel.

Still, Kristoff couldn’t cause a scene.

This was a charity ball, and he had no intention of behaving like a jealous fool in front of half the city’s elite.

He gave Isobel a brief look.

Then, with a restrained bow, he said, ”Enjoy your dance.”

He turned and walked away, though every step felt reluctant.

The masked man bowed to Isobel.

”Miss Lancey.”

He extended his hand.

Isobel hesitated for a fraction of a second before placing hers in it.

As soon as their hands touched, the man leaned closer.

”That was a lovely dance just now, Isobel,” he murmured near her ear.

Isobel instinctively stepped back.

She disliked the familiarity in his voice.

More than that, she disliked the way he looked at her. Even with half his face hidden behind the mask, she could feel his eyes studying her.

And he was standing far too close.

”I learned a little in college,” she replied, keeping her tone polite.

”I know.”

Isobel’s brows drew together.

”You know?”

The man gave a faint smile.

”I make it a habit to know the people I intend to do business with.”

Before she could ask what he meant, the music changed to something slower.

”You look tired,” he said. ”Let’s keep this one simple. A slow dance. Besides, the floor is getting crowded.”

Isobel glanced at the couples already filling the dance floor and nodded.

”May I know your name, sir?”

The man chuckled softly.

”To business partners, I’m Marco.”

He paused.

”But to those close to me, I’m Marcus.”

He didn’t explain the distinction.

Instead, he placed one hand on her waist and took her right hand in his.

Isobel stiffened.

”You have a lovely figure, Miss Lancey.”

The compliment made her uncomfortable.

”Thank you for your generous donation,” she said, choosing the safest response she could think of.

Marco smiled.

”Well, it is for a good cause.”

His hand tightened slightly around her waist as he guided her into the first step.

”But I assure you, I’m not losing anything.”

His eyes remained fixed on hers.

”In fact, I think this dance may turn out to be worth considerably more than one million.”

Isobel didn’t know how to respond.

She simply continued moving with the music, trying to maintain a polite expression while subtly increasing the distance between them.

Marco noticed. He didn’t seem offended.

If anything, he looked amused.

”You’re probably wondering why I bid so much for this dance.”

”I was curious.”

”Good.”

His smile widened.

”Because I didn’t come here tonight just for the dance.”

Isobel’s steps faltered for the briefest moment.

Marco smoothly guided her through the movement as though nothing had happened.

”I came because of you.”

Her expression changed.

”Me?”

”I’ve been watching the work you’ve done at Aioryx.”

That immediately caught her attention.

Marco continued in a calm, almost conversational tone.

”Your design work has attracted quite a bit of attention lately. Your recent project, especially. Very impressive.”

Isobel’s discomfort was replaced by caution.

So that was why he had been bidding against Kristoff.

Not because of the dance but because of her.

”I want to offer you an opportunity, Miss Lancey.”

His voice became more businesslike.

”Come work for my company.”

Isobel stared at him.

”Whatever Aioryx is paying you...”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a confident whisper.

”I’ll double it.”

For the first time that evening, Isobel understood what his million-dollar bid had really been about.

He wasn’t trying to buy a dance.

He was trying to buy her.