The Surrogate He Discarded

”What did you and that masked man talk about?”

Kristoff guided Isobel away from the center of the dance floor, his hand resting lightly at the small of her back.

The moment they stepped beyond the swirling crowd, the noise of the ballroom seemed to dull, but the tension between them only sharpened.

Isobel glanced at him.

”He offered me a job.”

Kristoff stopped.

”What?”

The single word came out sharper than he intended.

His eyes narrowed as he looked back toward the crowd, searching for the masked man among the elegantly dressed guests.

So that was his game.

He hadn’t approached Isobel merely for a dance.

He was testing the waters.

And judging by the confidence with which the man had spoken to her, Kristoff suspected the offer hadn’t been a small one.

”How much?”

Isobel raised an eyebrow.

”Why?”

”Just tell me.”

There was something unusually cold in his voice.

Isobel studied him for a moment before answering.

”Triple my current salary.”

Kristoff’s jaw tightened.

Triple.

His gaze returned to the crowd.

He really intends to take her away from me.

Then Isobel continued casually, as if she was listing the terms of an ordinary business proposal.

”A house. A car. Bonuses, too.”

Kristoff’s expression darkened.

A house.

A car.

Bonuses.

The masked man had clearly done his homework.

He knew exactly what kind of offer would be difficult for most people to refuse.

And for some inexplicable reason, the thought of Isobel accepting it irritated him far more than it should have.

”You agreed?”

His gaze snapped back to her. It was intense enough that Isobel blinked.

”Of course not.”

The answer came almost automatically.

Kristoff released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Thank goodness.

His shoulders relaxed slightly. But only for a moment.

”It isn’t about the money,” Isobel added, her expression turning serious.

Kristoff looked at her quietly.

He understood.

This wasn’t simply about comepensation.

Isobel was a Foster.

Aioryx was no longer just a company she worked for. It was part of the family legacy she had only recently discovered.

Walking away from it would mean walking away from something much larger than a lucrative job offer.

Still, a strange possessiveness lingered in Kristoff’s chest.

He didn’t like the idea of another man trying to lure her away.

Especially not a man who had gone to such lengths to approach her while concealing his identity.

Before he could say anything else, the music came to an end.

The final notes drifted through the ballroom before being swallowed by the rising murmur of conversation.

Almost immediately, several men approached.

They had clearly been waiting for their chance.

Kristoff’s expression hardened.

He moved instinctively closer to Isobel, his tall frame creating a subtle barrier between her and the approaching crowd.

His cold gaze swept over them.

One man hesitated.

Another suddenly found something fascinating across the ballroom.

A third gave Kristoff one look before quietly retreating toward another group of women.

However, not everyone was intimidated.

A few ambitious businessmen remained.

After all, dancing with Isobel Lancey was more than an invitation to a dance. She was the honored guest and had a good rapport with Dean Sunner and Dawn and her name had suddenly become one of the most interesting subjects in the ballroom.

A dark-haired CEO from one of the country’s largest grocery chains stepped forward with a confident smile.

”Miss Lancey, may I have this dance?”

Isobel offered him a polite smile.

”I’m sorry. I’m a little tired. I’d like to rest for a while.”

Her tone was courteous enough to leave no room for offense.

The CEO immediately nodded.

”Of course.”

He stepped away without pressing her.

Isobel quietly exhaled.

She really was exhausted.

The first dance had already taken more out of her than she expected. The second had been even worse—not physically, but emotionally.

The masked man’s words still lingered in her mind.

Triple her salary.

A house.

A car.

Bonuses.

It was an extravagant offer.

But money wasn’t what unsettled her.

It was the feeling that there had been something else behind his proposal.

Something he hadn’t said.

Isobel lowered her eyes, lost in thought.

Beside her, Kristoff noticed the change in her expression.

His eyes darkened.

Whatever that masked man had said to her...

It had clearly left something behind.

And Kristoff had a growing suspicion that the mysterious stranger’s interest in Isobel had nothing to do with employment at all.

...

Isobel had barely taken a step toward the edge of the ballroom when a familiar figure appeared among the guests.

Selene.

She approached with a wineglass delicately balanced between her fingers, a pleasant smile curved across her lips.

Too pleasant.

Her eyes, however, told a different story.

They traveled slowly over Isobel’s dress before settling on her face.

For a brief moment, Selene’s smile tightened.

”Isobel, you danced so well during the opening dance.” Then she deliberately paused. When did you learn such moves?” Selene asked.

She had watched Isobel all evening.

First, she had seen men lining up to dance with her.

Then she had watched Kristoff remain at her side, his attention following Isobel wherever she moved.

And now, even after the dance had ended, he was still standing beside her.

Selene’s fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass.

Why does she deserve all of this?

Isobel had appeared out of nowhere.

Yet within a single evening, she had become the woman everyone wanted to know.

The orphan courted by influential men.

And, worst of all...

Kristoff’s constant companion.

Selene approached them with a smile.

”Miss Lancey.”

Isobel turned.

”Selene.”

”It’s quite a beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

”Very.”

Selene lifted her glass.

”I was actually hoping we could—”

Her foot suddenly shifted.

The movement was so subtle that no one would have noticed it.

Her wrist tilted.

The wine inside the glass surged toward the rim.

And then—

Selene deliberately flicked her wrist.

The red wine flew straight toward Isobel’s dress.

Isobel’s eyes widened.

She barely had time to react.

But Kristoff was faster.

His arm wrapped around Isobel’s waist, pulling her sharply toward him.

At the same time, he stepped directly in front of her.

The wine splashed across his chest.

Dark red stains spread rapidly across the front of his immaculate white shirt and black jacket.

A few drops struck his neck.

The ballroom fell strangely quiet.

Isobel stared at him.

”Kristoff!”