The Maad Doctor [The Maad Series #1]

|1.3| Like A Bird.

Stella ate the chocolate given to her by the man wearing a purple mask. She wasn't fretted if it was poisonous or drugged. No one was foolish enough to do that to her and at her mother's auction of all places. Everyone would behave tonight, even her mortal enemies.

"Much appreciated, Jim... Jim Richard, right?" She smiled as per her mother's instructions before she took a bite.

"Yes." He nodded. "Consume it all, please," Jim Richard said. He dug his hands into his pockets and stood on his heels. He took a deep breath and exhaled, his shoulders slumped and revealed one was higher than the other.

Stella could tell he was nervous, but she didn't know why. Most men his age—he looked to be under forty—were drinking, eating, and having a delightful time.

Jim stared at her while she ate the rest of the chocolate. He moistened his lips and moved closer to her. Not too close, though. There was a two-feet boundary she set for anyone who wanted to talk to her. Last time she didn't, she learned the hard way when people touched her without permission.

"All done," she said with a grin.

Jim rubbed back his short curls. "Can I ask you something... uncanny?"

Stella's eyes sparked with interest. I hope it's worth my time. "You can."

"When you're... " Jim cleared his throat. "When you're with a man..." He coughed twice. "When you're with a man in bed, what things do you do to him?" He smiled.

I should have known. If her mother hadn't asked her to behave, Stella would have sighed and rolled her eyes. If she weren't rich, she would charge men for asking her sex-related questions. They were tiresome. She needed something different, something out of the ordinary. But she knew she would not find it at the auction.

She looked at him and was about to answer when someone tapped her shoulder. It seemed whoever it was, hadn't gotten the memo about personal space. Those who wanted to talk to her got her attention by calling her name. Not nudge her. She would have to teach whoever this was a lesson about boundaries and manners.

"Yes?" She turned and met a tall, dark-skinned man. He had snow-white hair with shaved sides. The top half of his face hid behind a black mask adorned with tiny crystals. Apart from his white hair—she hadn't seen it on people with his skin color—nothing about him stood out.

The suit he wore looked expensive to the casual eyes. But someone with Stella's taste could spot his cheap clothes from miles away.

He must be an intruder. There was always one of them every year, but her mother had assured her there won't be one this time around. How had he sneaked in?

Before Stella called the guards, the man spoke:

"Excuse me, Miss. I think you missed the memo, but everyone is required to wear a mask." He raised the gray mask in his hand. "I don't think the host will be too pleased if she realizes you don't have one. And even though I do enjoy looking at your pretty face, please, don't make me tell on you."

Is he unaware my mother is the host? She arched a brow and had a proper look at him. From what she could reckon, he looked decent for someone who wore shabby clothes and smelled like butter.

"Is that how you approach a woman? Where are your manners?" she asked before taking the mask from him.

The white-haired man searched his pockets. "It seems I lost them. You don't know where they sell manners, do you? I could use some at the moment."

Stella laughed. It was her first genuine laugh that night. She didn't know what he'd say after she had asked. It caught her off guard, and now her cheeks hurt from smiling for too long.