Everyone chuckled quietly. I felt like a clown stripped bare, exposed to their ridicule, squirming in humiliation.
“By the way, isn’t Michael smaller than Daniel down there?”
“If that’s true, then what a waste of his tall, muscular frame. Useless.”
Sarah smirked proudly. “Not at all. They’re the same size.”
“I just didn’t want to ruin the pure image Michael has of me. That’s why I went for the mixed-blood thrill of Daniel.”
Daniel drained his wine glass and leaned in to tempt Sarah.
“So, how about trying out a wine jacuzzi I’ve had prepared?”
“Let’s go—you’re already in the mood.”
I saw the flicker of desire rising in Sarah’s eyes.
It felt like a slap in the face—burning, humiliating.
They didn’t know that everything they thought about me was false.
I wasn’t some ordinary man. I was the heir of the Adams family in New York City. Not only could I understand French, but I was fluent in eight languages.
I had only just returned to the U.S. when I met Sarah, saving her from being harassed, and by chance, we became close.
My father, worried I lacked experience with women and could easily be deceived, had me conceal my true identity.