{Chapter: 196: Plastic Sisterhood}
Even if Dex was well aware that ninety-nine percent of it was pure performance, he didn't mind one bit.
Because in that final one percent… there was something real.
He smiled faintly, eyes gleaming with calm dominance as he gave a slight nod. "Of course it's true."
The moment those words left his lips, the woman on his left responded as though struck by lightning. A sultry spark flared in her eyes. Her reaction was nearly instantaneous.
One after the other, both women drew closer—like lust-struck moths lured into the abyssal heat of a devil's flame. They pressed into Dex with purposeful grace, their movements practiced, sensual… and utterly shameless.
One after the other, both women drew closer—like lust-struck moths lured into the abyssal heat of a devil's flame. They pressed into Dex with purposeful grace, their movements practiced, sensual… and utterly shameless.
The beauty on his right—her soft body already clinging to his—tightened her grip around his arm possessively, sliding her gloved hands down until her delicate fingers caressed the veins of his forearm. The motion was slow and indulgent, as if touching him was an intimate privilege. Her full breasts, already spilling over the rim of her corseted gown, molded against his arm like velvet cushions, their warmth seeping through fabric.
Her dress was no less than a scandal dressed as art—crimson velvet sculpted tightly to every sinful curve of her body, hugging her hips and bust like a carnal promise. The plunging neckline dipped so low it left nothing to the imagination—exposing soft underboob and a deep, lace-trimmed valley that bounced delicately with every teasing breath she took.
Slits carved up the sides of her gown like deliberate sins—revealing smooth, glistening thighs wrapped in sheer gartered stockings, the tops of which peeked out every time she shifted. Every detail—from her black satin gloves to the strategic gaps in her corset—was designed to tempt, flaunt, and ruin men without mercy.
A daring cut over the chest exposed the under-curve of her breasts, barely hidden by gossamer lace, while the back dipped low enough to expose the beginning of a tattoo that promised stories Dex wouldn't mind reading—preferably in bed.
The woman on Dex's left was no less aggressive. Her body slithered against his side like warm silk, her perfume a cocktail of sweet spice and feminine heat. She nestled her breasts into his bicep with exaggerated flourish, deliberately bouncing them against him in rhythm with her feigned giggles. Her voice, laced with sultry mischief, dripped into his ear like warm honey.
"You're so nice…" she whispered, lips nearly brushing his cheek.
"Yes… so very generous…" the other echoed, her voice lower, needier. They purred together like synchronized sirens—coquettish and sweet on the surface, but beneath that mask… wolves in corsets.
Their gazes flicked toward one another. Not with affection. With rivalry.
Their every word, every touch, was a battle dressed in velvet and lace—a war fought not with claws, but curves.
Their combined teasing was no longer mere flirtation. It had become a declaration of want. A sultry song of surrender disguised as seduction. Each movement screamed invitation—claim us—and Dex? He was the king of this little play.
He responded with a slow, satisfied smile that only made nearby men seethe in silent frustration.
And the women?
They hated it even more.
A sharp whisper cut the air like venom behind painted smiles: "Two damn sluts…"
Jealousy oozed from every syllable, spat out by the women who didn't dare make a move themselves. That's always the way—when it came to tearing each other down, women were the true apex predators. Men could never compare.
Good sisters? Hardly.
With Dex's quiet permission still fresh in their minds, the two vixens at his sides exchanged another glance. Eyes sparkled—scheming, thrilled, hungry. Some invisible telepathy passed between them, and in the next heartbeat, the woman on his left leaned forward with a bold smirk.
---
"112,700 gold coins!"
"113,000!"
"113,500!"
The prices were shouted in sharp succession, echoing through the hall like gunshots of greed. The atmosphere was tense, thick with anticipation and power plays.
Bella's heart pounded in her chest like a wild drum.
Even for a woman of her wealth, this level of bidding was unimaginable. These weren't numbers—they were declarations of power, prestige, and untouchable wealth. Just ten gold coins could support a common family for an entire year. And now? The bidding had soared to a sum that could fund a small town's pleasures for generations.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. She felt the heat of the room, the stares, the pressure. Yet even amidst the swirling tension, her eyes flicked toward Dex—her anchor.
He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. His calm, almost amused expression told her everything.
Go ahead.
That was all the permission she needed.
Raising her hand gracefully, Bella's voice rang out—just loud enough to pierce the murmurs. "125,000 gold coins."
The room fell quiet for half a breath.
Then, heads turned.
Eyes locked onto her. Some widened. Some narrowed.
And then, just as quickly, their gazes slid from Bella… to Dex.
There it was. The real weight of the moment. No one believed Bella had placed that bid alone.
To them, she was just another pretty face clinging to the arm of someone far more dangerous. An accessory. A mouthpiece for the man who truly mattered.
It wasn't just about money—it was about class. Status. Power. And in their eyes, she had none of it.
But she did have Dex.
And that made her dangerous.
Just like a rabbit would never dare snatch food from a wolf's jaws, none among the crowd made a sound after that final bid.
After silently observing Dex for several tense seconds—scanning him from head to toe—the nobles and tycoons reluctantly withdrew their piercing gazes.
They couldn't pinpoint his exact origins. His wealth? Unfathomable. His strength? Unknown.
But instinct whispered what logic couldn't confirm. His aura... it wasn't cultivated. It was born. A quiet but commanding dominance. The way he sat—poised yet casual, like a lion sunning itself in the savanna—radiated latent power. And his eyes... gods, those eyes. Cold, sharp, and utterly unbothered. The type of gaze that had seen kingdoms fall, lovers break, and walk away smiling.
A man like that wasn't someone they could easily provoke. No, he wasn't just qualified—he belonged at the top of the food chain.
He was someone who could feast beside monsters and never choke.
As the others quietly conceded and turned away, the tension in the air deflated like a punctured balloon. The two women at Dex's sides—who'd been holding their breath like prey waiting to see if the predator would pounce—finally relaxed their tight shoulders.
They shared a silent look and smiled—though the smile didn't quite reach their eyes.
Then, with syrupy grace, they both leaned in tighter, arms looping around him as if they feared he might slip away. The soft press of their bodies deepened—plush breasts pressing tighter, intentionally letting him sink into their warmth like he was slipping between two velvet pillows.
They weren't just clinging.
They were marking.
The one on the left adjusted her posture, tilting her back to accentuate the swell of her chest, making the crown of her cleavage rise like an offering. With a confident flick of her tongue across her glossed lips, she lifted her hand and rejoined the bidding war—this time without hesitation.
"128,000," she said silkily, voice like honey drizzled over steel.
In the end, the crown was secured at 132,000 gold coins.
When the jewel-encrusted diadem was brought forth by a team of elegantly dressed maids, the air shimmered with anticipation. Dex could hear it clearly—the twin hammering of hearts on either side of him.
Their heartbeats raced so wildly it was as if they were prey trembling in the shadow of a dragon, yet… they didn't run.
They clung even tighter.
Amused, he gave a slow smile and lazily handed a soft leather bag to the leading maid and suddenly appeared in his hand.
"I think this should cover it," he said, voice smooth and low like a purring beast.
The head maid blinked in surprise. She had expected him to produce coins, not some mysterious bag. Still, years of service among the elite had taught her to suppress visible reactions. She accepted the bag with practiced grace and began appraising its contents on the spot.
As she pulled open the drawstring and looked inside, her eyes widened.
A burst of radiant light sparkled from within—gleaming pearls, uncut gems, and radiant stones spilled like rainbow starlight captured in silk.
"H-Hissss…"
Her breath caught in her throat.
For a second, she stood utterly still—frozen, mesmerized like a maiden who had stumbled upon a dragon's lair and lived.
A few seconds passed before the maids beside her nudged her discreetly. Snapping out of her daze, she began appraising the contents with practiced fingers, swallowing hard.
"Sir," she said softly, glancing up at Dex with wide eyes. "These jewels… their total value is estimated at around 160,000 gold coins."
She then reached in with delicate care, fingers trembling, to return the surplus gems.
But Dex waved a hand lazily, his attention more focused on the woman to his left.
"Keep it," he said. "I'll probably be buying more things later. Consider it a deposit."
Without waiting for a reply, he took the shimmering crown and turned, gently placing it upon the head of the woman on his left. She gasped softly, shivering as his fingers brushed her temple, her cat ears fluttering above her head then trailed down through her silken hair.
A soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips as he tucked a loose strand behind her ear. Her cheeks flushed a brilliant pink.
The woman on his right gritted her teeth behind a tight smile. Jealousy flared like acid in her chest—but she didn't dare let it show. Instead, she leaned in with a syrupy tone and praised the other with hollow warmth.
"Ohhh, it suits you so well… Sister," she cooed, brushing her arm more firmly against Dex's side as she said it.
Dex almost laughed.
He could smell the plastic sisterhood between them like cheap perfume mixed with poison.
One was basking in smug satisfaction, practically purring from the attention. The other was masking envy with saccharine praise, clutching his arm just a bit tighter—pressing her chest against him like she could reclaim ground with soft skin alone.
It was all so deliciously transparent. So human.
It made him feel like he was back in one of his favorite games.
Power. Jealousy. Desire. Control.
All the pieces were on the board, and he had all the moves.
As for the money he'd spent? Meaningless.
To him, it was no different than pebbles on a trail.
Those gems had been scavenged from corpses of warlords, demons, and travellers. In the Abyss, on blood-drenched fields, and across a thousand ruined places—he had taken more than most men could imagine in ten lifetimes.
To Dex, wealth was just a side effect of survival. A byproduct of conquest. A trail of glittering dust left behind by a dragon who had forgotten how to care.
In his opinion, those were just some garbage picked up from the corpses of his enemies. Whether in the Abyss or in various worlds, he had picked up a lot of them, enough to pile them up into a mountain.
And tonight, he'd spend it however he liked.