The Maad Doctor [The Maad Series #1]

|1.2| Like A Lady.

Stella's stomach tied itself into a million knots after her mother called her name. Her hands became sweaty, and she tugged her gloves. It felt like the entire world was spinning, and she was the only one affected by it.

She placed a hand on her chest and took a deep breath, taking in the sweet scent of colognes mixed with the cold air. These annual auctions were nothing more than a way for her mother to put a spotlight on her love life.

Rich men from all over the world didn't only come to buy the artifacts on sale. No, her hand-in-marriage was also on the line. But it wasn't cheap. Her mother had made it very clear. For most, Stella would cost half of their fortune. Her mother hoped the steep price would leave the top one percent of the top one percent battling for her hand.

But Stella hated the top one percent. They treated their wives like harlots and shared them with their friends. The mere thought of kissing one of them sent bile up her throat.

Her mother didn't care, though. She recognized an opportunity to increase her wealth at the expense of her daughter, and she took it. That's who Lady Camilla was, an opportunist.

Since she was a child, her mother always said: "More money, more influence, more power, and more control." It became the woman's motto and stuck with Stella ever since.

She couldn't say no to her mother. Last time she tried, the woman threatened to cut her off and send her to live in the slums of Sin City. Stella would rather chop off her limbs and have them fed to vultures before she accepted that.

Thus, here she was, walking down the steps as men ogled at her. The black and white dress she wore stuck to her body like glue. It enhanced the prominent curves she got from her grandmother.

She knew what the men would say once they had time to speak to her:

"You possess a sexy body."

"Your smile makes me horny."

"What does that mouth do, you naughty girl?"

"I can't wait for you to meet my other wives."

"I'll open a brothel in your name."

There was nothing original anymore.

Nothing new.

Nothing interesting.

Nothing to pique her curiosity and make her question everything she'd ever known.

All men are the same. She descended the stairs with a bright smile. Remember; slow and elegant, they like it that way.

The men cheered, whistled, and applauded while the women gave her dirty looks.

It wasn't her fault; she was attractive.

It wasn't her fault; she was the most sought after woman in the world.

That was how things were, and she couldn't do anything about it.

Erin did something about it. She thought about the servant she had been sleeping with for years. The things he does to me, none of these men can do.

Erin wasn't someone she saw or wanted a future with. He had no money, house, or anything of value to his name. He was someone she used to meet her sexual needs, that's all.

The crowd clapped even louder once she stood next to her mother. They were the only ones not wearing a mask tonight. It didn't seem to bother anyone else.

"Which one would you prefer I talk to?" Stella muttered to her mother while maintaining her gaze on the crowd. Some men blew her kisses, which she seized and placed them close to her heart. This act made them chant her name.

"Don't worry about that. Talk to whoever comes to you. And later on, I'll present the ones who have asked for your hand." Lady Camilla turned away from the crowd—they were laughing at Michael's jokes now—and gazed at Stella. "And don't forget to smile and laugh at their jokes. Even if they're unfunny, pretend they are. You know how egotistical they are. Indulge them, that's all I'm requesting. Is that clear?"

Stella sighed. "Yes, mother."

"Good." Lady Camilla stroked Stella's cheek and then walked away after Michael called her name.

Stella watched as her mother handled the crowd and had them on her palm. She was skilled at capturing everyone's attention. They didn't notice Stella anymore—that's how good of a talker Lady Camilla was.

Stella decided if she would select one of these men to be her husband, then it had to be someone worth her time. If there was one thing worse than a top one percent man, then it was a dull one.

o-o-o-o

Don leaned against the wall with a glass of wine in one hand and grilled-shrimp-on-a-stick on the other. He took a bite and a sip, enjoying the expensive and delicious food at his mercy.

I wish Pipi were here. We would have had a fantastic time.

When he finished eating, he put the stick in the glass and placed it next to the wall. He looked back at the crowd and spotted Stella talking to a man wearing a purple mask. As he stared at her, everything around him slowed down. He could hear and feel the thumping of his heart in his ears.

She's perfect.

Stella was the woman of his dreams, the one he wanted to marry and start a family with. Until today, he had only seen her in newspapers. And even then, her beauty was undeniable.

One day, you'll be mine.

He thought of ways he would start a conversation with her. Each scenario that popped up in his head ended with him turned away.

I need to do something she won't expect.

He looked to his left and spotted a dark-skinned woman with a face full of freckles and brown eyes. Something was terrifying in her gaze, sending a chill down Don's spine. The woman stared at the crowd with a frown.

Whoever pissed her off, they have it coming.

Don walked up to her, and she turned to him. Her dull eyes made him gulp, but she wore the same clothes as the servants at the event, and he required something from her.

"Can I have one?" He pointed at the masks on the silver tray the woman was carrying.

She arched a brow, seeing as Don wore one.

He chuckled. "It's not for me; it's for a friend."

She picked the gray mask on top and gave it to him.

"Much appreciated." Don bowed before he left. He didn't care for the purple masked man talking to Stella. It was his moment to impress her, and Don knew he wouldn't get another chance. Whatever Gods that were watching out for him and his love life, he promised to thank them once he returned home.

He tapped Stella's shoulder, and she turned towards him. The purple masked man scoffed at him before walking away.

"Yes?" Stella asked. Her sky-blue eyes stared into his soul, judging if he was worthy of breathing the same air as her.

One day, she and I will look back at this moment and laugh. "Excuse me, Miss. I think you missed the memo, but everyone is required to wear a mask." He raised the gray one he held. "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."