Isabella's lips tingled as Adrian pulled away, his breath still warm against her skin. She staggered back a step, the world tilting, her pulse racing as if she had just committed a crime. Perhaps she had.
"What… what was that?" she whispered, her fingers brushing her swollen lips, her voice trembling like fragile glass.
Adrian's eyes gleamed with unrepentant fire. "A mistake," he said but the way his gaze lingered on her mouth betrayed him. "One I'm willing to make again."
Her chest tightened. She shook her head, trying to gather the shreds of her will. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough," he replied smoothly, taking a step closer. His presence was overwhelming, a force that seemed to consume the air itself. "I know you don't belong to this world. I know you're suffocating under your father's hand. And I know you felt what I felt just now."
"No," she whispered, though the word sounded hollow even to her. She was lying to him, and worse she was lying to herself. The kiss still burned through her, igniting places she had never dared to explore.
Adrian tilted his head, studying her with the sharpness of a man used to peeling back lies. "Tell me you didn't want it, Isabella. Look me in the eye and tell me."
Her throat closed. Her eyes betrayed her.
He didn't wait for permission this time. He claimed her mouth again, and this time she melted before she could think, her body arching into his as though it had been waiting for this moment her entire life. The kiss was deeper, hungrier, a clash of fire and ice that stole every ounce of logic from her.
Isabella's hands trembled as they pressed against his chest, meaning to push him away, but instead they curled into the crisp fabric of his shirt. His heartbeat thudded strong and steady beneath her palm, the pulse of a man who carried entire empires on his shoulders.
Her father's voice rang faintly in her head Don't embarrass me tonight. The Morettis notice everything.
She should walk away. She should slap him, scream, do anything but this.
But when Adrian's hands slid down her back, pulling her flush against him, her resolve shattered. She had spent years being perfect, obedient, silent. For once, she wanted to feel alive.
"I shouldn't," she breathed against his lips.
"You shouldn't," he agreed, his mouth trailing to her jaw, his words a dark promise. "But you will."
The night around them seemed to vanish. The distant hum of music from the ballroom, the faint murmur of laughter they all faded until there was nothing but the heat between them.
Adrian's hand slid to hers, his grip firm but not forceful. "Come with me," he said simply, his tone brooking no argument.
Her heart hammered as he led her down the stone path toward a smaller wing of the mansion. Each step was a war inside her chest duty versus desire, fear versus temptation. Yet she didn't stop him. Not once.
The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room a private library lined with shelves of leather-bound books, the scent of aged paper mingling with the faint smoke of the fireplace. Adrian closed the door behind them, shutting out the world, trapping her in a cage of shadows and heat.
He turned to her slowly, like a predator savoring the silence before the strike. "Do you know how long I've watched you tonight?"
Her breath caught. "Why?"
"Because you don't play their game," he said, his eyes burning into hers. "You stand here in crimson silk, pretending to be one of them, but your eyes give you away. You hate this life. You want out. And yet… here you are."
His words pierced through her carefully constructed mask. She wanted to deny it, but she couldn't. He saw through her in ways no one ever had.
"I don't want this," she whispered. "I never did."
"Then take something you do want," he said softly, stepping closer until his breath brushed her cheek. "Take me."
Her heart lurched. This was madness. Dangerous, reckless madness. But when his hand cradled her jaw and his thumb brushed her bottom lip, her body betrayed her once more.
The kiss that followed was different deeper, unrestrained. His mouth claimed hers with raw hunger, and this time, Isabella answered with the same desperate need. She clung to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world built of lies.
His hands roamed with deliberate slowness, tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine. Everywhere he touched, fire bloomed beneath her skin. A soft gasp escaped her lips as his mouth trailed to her throat, and she felt her knees weaken.
Adrian caught her easily, his arm wrapping around her waist to steady her. "Careful, bella," he murmured against her skin. "I don't intend to let you fall… unless it's into me."
Her laugh was breathless, trembling, laced with desire. She hated how much she wanted him, hated how quickly he was unraveling her, hated most of all that she couldn't stop.
"Adrian…" she whispered, her voice a plea and a warning all at once.
"Say my name again," he demanded, his lips grazing the hollow of her throat.
Her fingers curled in his hair as she whispered it once more, softer this time, surrender laced in every syllable.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting shadows that danced along the walls. The world outside ceased to exist. In that moment, there was only Isabella, trembling and breathless, and Adrian, fierce and unyielding.
She knew this night would change everything. She knew the cost of stepping into the fire. But when Adrian's mouth claimed hers again and his hands pulled her closer, Isabella
let go of fear.
For the first time in her life, she let herself burn.