I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 48: Chapter 48

Lysander’s POV

Gideon’s hand clamped hard over my forearm, dragging me through the grand double doors and back into the blinding glare of the ballroom.

The ambient chatter, clinking champagne flutes, and classical string quartet felt like a physical assault against my already frayed senses.

Every step I took in the black kitten heels sent a sharp, agonizing ache radiating through my sore thighs and trembling lower body.

"Look at you, trembling like a wet dog," Gideon snickered low under his breath, leaning down as we wove past a cluster of socialites. "What did Professor Drake do to you in that gallery? Threaten to kick you out of the university entirely?"

I kept my eyes fixed squarely on the polished marble floor, forcing myself to swallow down the bitter taste of humiliation.

"He was... extremely thorough about my lack of academic discipline," I mumbled softly, offering the exact excuse Gideon expected to hear.

He let out a loud, harsh laugh, thoroughly enjoying what he perceived as my total psychological defeat.

"I knew it," Gideon gloated, his grip tightening on my arm until his fingers bruised my pale skin through the red satin.

"You thought you were so clever playing the brooding, tortured artist, but Drake saw right through your pathetic little act."

"It’s almost embarrassing how easily he put you in your place," Gideon added, his tone dripping with arrogant satisfaction.

"He probably took one look at you dressed like a party girl and realized what a complete joke you actually are."

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper, keeping my mouth shut to prevent myself from screaming the horrifying truth at him.

Gideon had no idea that while he was pacing the corridor like a fool, his revered professor had me pinned against the gallery wall.

He had no idea that the flush lingering on my neck wasn’t from embarrassment over my grades, but from Drake’s ruthless, possessive hands.

"Stand up straight," Gideon ordered sharply, jerking my arm to force my posture upright as we stopped near the central fountain.

"My father just walked through the front entrance, and I won’t have you looking like a discarded rag doll when he gets over here."

I hazarded a quick glance around the massive hall, my heart instantly dropping into my stomach as my eyes swept the elite crowd.

Standing near the VIP balcony bar was Professor Drake, holding a crystal glass of dark scotch with effortless, intimidating elegance.

Beside him, Vesper was leaning casually against the railing, his sharp, mismatched eyes locked onto me with a wicked, knowing smirk.

Drake didn’t smile; he simply raised his glass an inch in my direction, his eyes promising that our business was far from finished.

I quickly turned my head away, my heart hammering violently against my ribs as fresh panic surged through my veins.

"Gideon," a heavy, thunderous voice echoed behind us, cutting through the background noise of the party like a razor blade.

I stiffened instantly as Darius stepped into view, his tall, imposing frame clad in an immaculate, high-end charcoal tuxedo.

Darius’s sharp, calculating eyes didn’t look at Gideon first; they locked instantly onto my styled blonde wig, makeup, and gown.

The temperature in the space between us seemed to drop twenty degrees as Darius’s face hardened into a stone.

Gideon immediately smoothed his posture, putting on his best dutiful-son expression as he addressed his father.

"Father," Gideon greeted smoothly, offering a charming smile. "I’m glad you made it. The evening is turning out to be quite productive."

"Productive?" Darius repeated, his deep voice dangerously quiet, vibrating with a cold, terrifying rage that made Gideon’s smile freeze.

Darius stepped directly into Gideon’s personal space, ignoring the surrounding socialites while casting a suffocating shadow over both of us.

"What is the meaning of this spectacle, Gideon?" Darius growled, his eyes flashing with disgust as he gestured toward my crimson dress. "I tell you to go to a gala to network with senators and board members, and you parade your stepbrother around dressed as a woman?"

Gideon swallowed hard, his arrogant confidence faltering for the very first time as he realized his father wasn’t amused in the slightest.

"Father, it was just a lesson," he stammered, trying desperately to regain control of his narrative. "He was stepping out of line at home—"

"Silence!" Darius snapped, his voice a harsh, suppressed whip-crack that made several nearby guests turn their heads in surprise.

"You stupid fool," Darius hissed, leaning in so close to Gideon that his knuckles turned white against his silver-topped cane.

"Do you have any idea how this looks to the board? You are making a mockery of the Thorne name in front of the entire city’s elite."

"You think dragging Lysander out here in makeup makes him look weak?" Darius sneered, his dark eyes burning into his son’s face. "It makes you look like an insecure, undisciplined child who relies on petty playground antics instead of dignity and power."

Gideon’s jaw clenched, a bright red flush of humiliation creeping up his neck as his own father destroyed him in public.

I shrank back slightly, watching in silent shock as Darius turned the full weight of his anger away from me and entirely onto Gideon.

"You have humiliated this family tonight," Darius growled, his voice laced with absolute contempt for his son’s pathetic scheme.

"If your mother were here, she would be disgusted by how utterly reckless and childish you have become."

Gideon flinched violently at the mention of his mother, his knuckles tightening into fists as he glared at the floor in bitter silence.

Darius turned his gaze toward me, his expression shifting from blind fury to a cold, unreadable calculation as he scanned my trembling form.

"And you," Darius murmured, reaching out a heavy hand to roughly grab my chin, forcing me to look up into his dark eyes.

"You let him dress you up like a circus act and drag you into a public ballroom?" Darius asked, his thumb pressing hard against my skin.

"I... I didn’t have a choice, sir," I whispered, my voice breaking under the suffocating pressure of his grip.

Darius let out a low, harsh breath, dropping his hand from my jaw with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

"Get him out of my sight," Darius commanded Gideon, his tone so icy it could freeze blood.

"Take him straight back to the estate, remove this absurd attire, and stay in your quarters for the rest of the night."

"If I hear a single word of gossip from anyone tomorrow about this spectacle, Gideon, I will strip your trust fund entirely."

Gideon’s eyes flashed with pure venom, but he knew better than to push his father any further when Darius was this close to snapping.

"Yes, sir," Gideon spat out through gritted teeth, grabbing my wrist so hard the bone throbbed beneath his grip.

"Come on, Vane," Gideon snarled, violently yanking me along behind him as he turned on his heel to flee the ballroom in disgrace.

I stumbled after him on my aching, exhausted legs, my crimson dress swishing loudly against the marble as we headed for the foyer.

As Gideon practically dragged me through the grand exit doors and out into the crisp, dark night air, I cast one last glance back.

Standing on the VIP gallery balcony above the crowd, Professor Drake stood watching my forced departure with terrifying intensity.

He swirled the dark liquor in his crystal glass, his eyes tracking my every movement.

He didn’t need to speak a single word; the dark, predatory promise echoed straight into my mind, louder than the chaos around me:

You belong to me.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!