It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why, but I remind myself it’s none of my business. “Don’t worry. He’s just a client.”
After the stunt he pulled tonight, which backfired on him, I will be staying cautious of him. All my assumptions about him were true.
He’s a manipulator and a liar.
Chapter Twenty
Arya
When Bianca and I reenter the ballroom, most of the guests are seated. Bianca makes her way to her table, while I do the same. A quick glance over my shoulder reveals her leaning down and kissing Dash to ease the concerned look on his rugged face.
A pinprick of longing strikes my chest at the love between them.
I turn back around.
My gait falters, seeing Nathan and Samaira sitting cozily at my table. Of course, we’re seated together. How else will the gods torture me than by making me sit across his smug face?
Currently, it’s buried against Samaira’s neck as he whispers in her ear. Her slim frame is draped all over him, making it seem she’s perched on his lap rather than her chair. She laughs at whatever he utters, drawing curious attention to them.
My nose wrinkles in disgust, catching his hand disappear under the table.
Isn’t he scared of the board members watching his behavior? He’s making the tense situation worse for himself and a million times harder for me to fix.
I reluctantly stomp my way to them, hearing the host announce that everyone should be seated and that the auction will begin soon. I’m rather loud as I drag out my chair roughly, making Nathan and Samaira pull apart at the noise.
Samaira’s brow furrows.
I shoot her an apologetic smile as I plop down, promptly skating my gaze to Nathan. There’s taunting amusement in his eyes from being able to tell I’m annoyed with his mighty presence. Reaching for the flute, he casually takes a sip of his champagne.
Ripping my gaze away, I study the other people at our table. There is another couple, Mr. and Mrs. Roshan, owners of the biggest fast-food chain restaurants in our country and known for their philanthropic work.
Next to me sits Rithvik Verma.
A young millionaire at the age of twenty-eight, who rose to success after his diamond merchant business took off last year.
He gives me a polite smile, introducing himself, “Hello, I’m Rithvik. Nice to meet you.”
I can immediately sense his hidden nervousness as though this is all very new to him. From what I heard about his background, he comes from a middle-class family.
“Hii, I’m Arya. Have you ever been to an auction before?”
“Am I making it obvious that I haven’t?” he says lightly.
I chuckle, leaning closer to keep our chat private. “I’m just good at reading people.”
Except when it comes to a certain man.
“I’m learning that skill.” In a sheepish tone, Rithvik confesses, “The world of the rich is kinda new to me. I wasadvised to attend these parties and mingle with the ‘right’ people rather than donating anonymously.”
He’s like a breath of fresh air, humble and untouched by the corruption that runs rampant among the rest of the people. “It’s all about staying in the limelight.”
“Sounds taxing,” he groans.
Smiling at his reaction, I take a moment to admire him. Dressed in a gray three-piece suit, molded to a decent body, and his hair in messy curls, he’s handsome and cute. Although not as fit as Nathan.
Stop comparing men to him.
“It can be, unless you have friends,” I tell him.
