I yank my hand free of his. It’s successful, which is how I know that he let me do it.
Because if Lukas Lazarev didn’t want to let me go, he simply wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t have any say in the matter.
“What the hell was that?” I screech.
My voice clangs off the walls, loud and shrill. Lukas stops walking and turns to face me. His emotionless scowl doesn’t change.
“That,” he says, “was a charity auction.”
I jab a finger at his chest. “Don’t you dare play dumb with me. You just paid five million dollars to humiliate me in front of everyone!”
“I donated five million dollars to a youth mentorship program,” he intones. “You should be thanking me.”
I laugh hysterically, right in his face. “What part of ‘auctioning me off like livestock’ deserves gratitude?! You dressed me up in this, this
