Chapter 4 Follow Me
Lia blinked at the champagne flute taken from her hand. “Then what am I supposed to drink?”
Five minutes later, Felix Adler nearly spat out his wine when he saw her raise a steaming cup of milk toward him.
“What game are you playing now?” he asked dryly.
“Happy birthday! Lukas won’t let me drink alcohol, so…” she lifted the milk with a smile, “this will have to do.”
Felix tugged his lips into a crooked grin. “You’re toasting me—with milk?”
She scratched her head, confused. “But Lukas said—”
“Stop!” Felix downed his own drink without touching hers. Always Lukas. Every time, this woman uses Lukas to put me in my place.
“Lia,” he said, shaking his head, “you’ve gotten a lot sharper.”
She tilted her head. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“…Forget it.”
She happily sipped her milk and drifted back into the crowd. But Lukas was gone from his seat—now surrounded by Bonn’s elite. Not wanting to interrupt, she wandered toward the buffet.
Just as she reached for a pastry, a hand clamped around her wrist.
“Come with me,” a man’s low voice murmured in her ear.
She stiffened—then recognized the voice.
“Jan…”
Her old lover stood before her, sharp suit, handsome as ever. To others, he might look the picture of concern. To Lia, he was the devil dressed up in charm.
“Come with me,” he repeated, tugging gently.
Once, she would have obeyed without a thought. Once, he had made her feel safe. But after what he had done in her past life, all she felt now was revulsion.
“I’ll never let him hurt you again,” Jan swore.
What a touching lie. If she didn’t remember the men he’d sent to torment her, she might have cried at his words.
Forcing her voice steady, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“To somewhere safe. Trust me.”
“Safe for me,” she sneered, “or profitable for you?”
His eyes flickered. “Lia, don’t be stubborn. I have my reasons. Just listen.”
Reasons—of course. Jan had clawed his way up, earning the Wagner brothers’ trust, securing his cushy post at JC Entertainment. He didn’t want her for love. He wanted to hide her away, make her into a star, a money-printing machine.
“Why would I leave? I just got married. We’re happy. Don’t you dare ruin it.”
Jan’s smile faltered. Was this the same woman who once begged him to help her escape?
“That wedding was nothing but a kidnapping! Do you really think you’re Lukas Müller’s wife? At best, you’re his mistress. If I had known, I would’ve kidnapped you first!”
The word mistress cut the air like a blade.
Behind a gauzy curtain, Lukas’ hand tightened around a wine glass until it nearly shattered. His eyes were a storm, cold and lethal.
Erik, sweating nearby, thought grimly: She’s done it now. She’s meeting her lover under Mr. Müller’s nose. We’re all going to die.
But Lia only looked at Jan with disgust. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He grabbed for her. She slipped out of reach.
“Why would I go with you?”
“Because Lukas will never love you!” Jan snapped. “If you’re doing this just to spite me, don’t torture yourself.”
Lia laughed, sharp and cold. “Torture? Being Lukas Müller’s wife is torture? He’s powerful, rich, and handsome. Compared to you—clinging to my family for scraps—you’re nothing. I’d have to be insane to choose you over him. Tell me, should I call you ex-boyfriend… or Lena’s man?”
“You—” Jan choked on the words.
“Surprised?” she smirked. “I’ve known for years. You and Lena, sneaking around. I even saw you together. And like an idiot, I told myself you were just ‘exercising.’”
Jan’s face darkened. Rage rolled off him in waves.
This woman—this woman who used to beg and cry for him—was cutting him to pieces in public.
“What do you mean by ‘begging my family for scraps’?” he ground out.
