The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes the next day was the silence. Not the comforting kind but heavy, oppressive, the kind that reminded me this wasn't my penthouse. This was Adrian Throne's fortress. His territory.
I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow, hoping to steal a few more minutes of peace. But the smell of fresh coffee teased its way under the door, cruel and tempting. With a groan, I dragged myself up, slid into my robe, and padded down the marble hallway barefoot.
When I entered the dining room, my stomach sank.
He was already there.
Adrian sat at the long oak table like it was a throne, the morning light pouring through floor to ceiling ceiling windows and catching on the sharp planes of his face. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled just enough to expose the veins at his forearms. He wasn't even trying, and still he looked like sin sculpted into flesh.
"Good morning, princess." His voice wrapped around me like silk laced with smoke.
I stiffened. "Don't call me that."
He smirked, sipping his coffee. "You'll get used to it."
I ignored him, reaching for a slice of toast, though my hands weren't as steady as I wanted.
That's when he leaned back, voice casual but commanding. "We have a dinner tonight. Black-tie. I expect you to look the part."
I froze, toast halfway to my lips. "Excuse me?"
"Seven sharp," he continued, like a man announcing an unavoidable fate. "A car will take us. Don't embarrass me."
The sheer audacity of him. "And if I don't feel like being paraded around like some…"
"…..like my future wife?" His eyes burned, pinning me. "Then you'll be reminded exactly what's at stake, Raine. Don't test me."
I wanted to throw the toast at his arrogant, beautiful face. Instead, I smiled sweetly, venom curling in my tone. "Wouldn't ever dream of it."
By the time I returned to my room, my jaw was still clenched from replaying that conversation.
But the sight waiting on my bed stole my breath.
A dress. Not just any dress, liquid midnight silk, strapless, with a slit that seemed designed to tempt scandal. The fabric shimmered as though the night sky had been poured into it.
Beside it: slender black heels, a glittering clutch, and diamonds that gleamed like fire in candlelight.
For a moment, I just stood there, heart hammering. He'd chosen everything. Down to the smallest detail.
And damn it, the bastard had exquisite taste.
By the time I was ready, my reflection in the mirror startled me. My hair swept into a sleek updo, my skin glowing under the delicate weight of diamonds, the gown clinging to me like it was made for my body. I looked… untouchable. Like the kind of woman Adrian Throne would claim.
I hated how much I loved the power in it.
The gala was a blur of lights, laughter, and champagne. Chandeliers threw golden rain across the marble floors, while music hummed low beneath the clink of glasses and the buzz of whispered gossip.
The moment we entered, every head turned. Cameras flashed. Questions came like rapid-fire, like bullets.
"How did you two meet?"
"Was it love at first sight?"
"When's the wedding?"
I kept my smile fixed, every answer smooth but carefully false. "We met years ago. Fate gave us a second chance."
Lies woven like silk. Lies that tasted bitter on my tongue.
Beside me, Adrian's hand rested on my lower back, warm and commanding, and when I glanced up, his gaze burned with pride. He leaned close, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
"You lie beautifully my princess."
I forced my smile wider, though my insides churned. "And you believe yourself too easily."
But then I saw them.
My family.
My mother, rigid in pearls and judgment. My father, stiff, unreadable. And Jeslyn my sister in a scarlet gown that hugged every cruel line of her body, standing like she owned the room.
Seeing them approach me I braced myself.
"Raine." My mother's voice was as sharp as broken glass. "So this is how you humiliate us? Parading yourself on his arm?"
"Better than spreading my legs for a fiancé who was already screwing my sister," I replied, my tone sweet as sugar.
Gasps rippled through those close enough to hear.
Jeslyn's jaw tightened, her painted smile curdling. "Careful, Raine. You've always been good at playing the victim. Don't start believing your own lies."
"I don't have to play." My voice was low, steady. "You've been rehearsing the role for years."
My father muttered something about reputation, my mother seethed, but I walked away before I would do something rash like maybe strangle them all.
At the bar, I lifted a hand, signaling for a drink. The waiter slid a glass across the polished counter, crystal clear liquid, cold droplets racing down the stem.
I lifted it, brought it to my lips….but I saw Jeslyn coming towards me. Sighing I placed the drink down. I really needed that drink now.
The glass hovered, untouched.
Jeslyn's perfume hit me first before her voice did, sharp and sickly sweet.
"You're really basking in this, aren't you? Pretending he wants you. Pretending you matter."
I turned slowly, meeting her gaze. "Jealousy isn't flattering, Jeslyn. Neither is desperation."
Her lips curved like a blade. "Desperation? Darling, you're the one clinging to Adrian like a life raft."
And then before I could stop her she snatched the glass from my hand.
"I feel like stabbing you ," she sneered. "I need something to take the edge off."
"Jeslyn, don't—"
She tipped it back, throat working as she swallowed. Well there goes my drink, I gotta get another one I thought to myself.
For one heartbeat, she smirked, triumphant.
Then her smile faltered, then her fingers began to tremble.
The glass slipped from her hand, shattering on marble.
Jeslyn gasped, clutching her throat, her face draining of color as her knees buckled.
"Jeslyn!" My mother's scream cut through the music, shrill and terrified.
Guests froze, then chaos erupted. People shouting, chairs scraping, waiters stumbling over each other. Jeslyn collapsed, her body writhing, foam bubbling at her lips.
"Call an ambulance!" my father bellowed, panic breaking his composure.
I stood frozen, horror choking me, until Adrian's arm circled me, pulling me hard against his chest. His voice was low, lethal, in my ear.
Jeslyn convulsed, strangers rushing to her aid, my mother sobbing, my father shouting orders. The party dissolved into pandemonium around me.