Chapter 17 I am His Doll

"I don't think the club is the place for me," I remarked, lacking any real interest in the club he was referring to.

Sex clubs, the ultimate haven for men, were a concept I was familiar with.

"What if I invite you?" he proposed, gently grasping my hand and caressing its back with his thumb. "There's a costume party tonight, and I would like you to accompany me."

"You need to learn," he insisted, his eyes filled with intensity. "Will you come with me?"

Although it was the first time he had sought my opinion, attending a costume party at a sex club was not something I desired. I could only imagine the potential consequences of such an event.

The dimly lit space was filled with an array of provocative women and pole dancers adorned in black lace garters, while men and women alike scoured the crowded room, driven by their own desires. The atmosphere was one of intoxication and promiscuity.

I recalled a time from my childhood when my father would go out to socialize, and my mother never bothered to inquire about his whereabouts or return time. The following day, she would quietly confide in our nanny, Linda, lamenting the scent of other women on my father's clothes.

Men who were already committed to their partners mentally seemed to seek novelty physically.

"Men always need freshness."—a sentiment my mother often expressed.

I knew precisely why Alpha Devon had extended the invitation to a sex club; no respectable man would bring his wife to such an occasion.

However, my interest waned, and I found myself preferring to bask in the sun on a beach rather than attend a fancy dress party.

"Am I allowed to decline?" I asked, warily observing him, well aware of the potential danger. But hadn't he just promised me half a day of freedom?

It was a test, pushing him to the limit, hoping for success. I needed to gain more power and autonomy for myself in the future.

Yet, he was astute, quickly deciphering my inner thoughts. I watched as he raised my hand to his lips and tenderly kissed it.

"No. You must accompany me to the costume party tonight," he declared, a triumphant smile playing on his lips.

"That would be my pleasure," I replied, forcing a smile.

It was evident that I had failed; he was the one establishing the rules in this game. I had no choice but to comply with everything he dictated.

What puzzled me was the role he wanted me to play. If he merely desired me as a surrogate, he could have made love to me at any opportune moment during my pregnancy, impregnating me with his seed and waiting for it to mature.

But that wasn't the case. He paraded me around proudly, disregarding the judgmental gazes of others. He even engaged in arguments with his wife about me. Just as I began to think he genuinely cared for me, his actions reminded me that I was overthinking it.

I vividly recalled his conversation with Dr. Stephen, where he referred to me as his last hope. It became clear that his kindness towards me stemmed solely from my potential to provide him with an heir. However, the moment I stopped fixating on him, he desired my attention.

Who does he truly want me to be? A surrogate or a lover? Maybe he saw in me a source of emotional fulfillment to fill a void in his life?

Confusion clouded my thoughts. I had no intention of entangling myself in this complex emotional game. All I craved was my freedom.

"Are you lost in thought again?" His fingers gently brushed the tip of my nose, momentarily captivating me with their tenderness.

"Shall we go now?" he inquired.

"Yes," I nodded.

He summoned the waiter to settle the bill, and shortly after, we departed from the hotel. He drove us to an upscale mall, where we entered a women's clothing store.

The moment Devon stepped inside, a throng of women congregated outside, eagerly greeting him. I positioned myself behind Alpha Devon, avoiding being consumed by the admiring gazes of these women.

However, Devon handed me over to one of the women and instructed her to fetch all the clothes in the store that would fit me. I was to try them on while he occupied himself on a nearby sofa, scrutinizing me with every outfit change. If he disapproved of my attire, a mere glance was all it took for the women to swiftly provide a new dress and assist me in trying it on.

I found myself at the mercy of a doll-like figure, spending my precious half-day of freedom in an attempt to please him.

"This one's perfect," he declared, his gaze fixed on the white diamond-encrusted dress hugging my form.

I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. It was the first time I had adorned something so extravagantly expensive. The diamonds embedded in the dress glimmered under the light, enveloping me in their radiant allure.

Unbelievable. Not long ago, I am a slave, confined amidst rats and cockroaches. And now, I have the opportunity to dress up and be with Devon.

It all felt like a surreal dream.

Aray, wake up. Remember, everything he has bestowed upon you comes at a cost. Do not lose yourself in this illusory stardust.

"I need to use the restroom," I announced.

"Shall I accompany you, miss?" the respectful saleswoman offered.

"No, thank you," I replied. "I believe I can find my way to the bathroom."

Alone, I changed into more comfortable attire and made my way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the girl who had temporarily basked in the glow of diamonds seemed so ordinary.

This is the true essence of who I am.

I felt a faint ache in my heart, a sensation difficult to articulate. Yes, I found pleasure in the superficiality that Alpha Devon bestowed upon me. However, I knew better than to fall for it because it was all an illusion.

Perhaps his interest in me was fleeting, and his generosity merely a transaction. I refused to become a perpetual slave, existing solely to please my master.

Aray, you must learn to maintain control. Never allow yourself to love him.

As I reached for a tissue to wipe away the tears on my cheek, I accidentally collided with a man while exiting the restroom.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, raising my gaze to meet his. It was Jim. His eyes were bloodshot, and the scent of alcohol clung to him.

"It's you!" Jim stared at me intently, the serpentine scar at the corner of his eye contorting with his expression.

"Can a lowly slave like you come to such an upscale place?" he sneered. "Even if Devon dresses you in gold, it won't change your wretched status!"

"I don't want to talk to you," I said, attempting to leave. However, he deliberately blocked my path with his body.

"I told you we're not finished!" He regarded me with a mix of reluctance and intensity. "Why do you always say no?"

In an instant, he forcefully pushed me against the cold wall, his knees pressing into my legs with brutal force, causing excruciating pain.

"What I can't possess, I won't allow anyone else to have!" he hissed, tightening his grip around my neck.

"Is that so?"

Suddenly, Devon appeared behind him, his voice commanding and distant.