The charity gala glittered with chandeliers and laughter, the kind of event Amara never imagined herself attending. She felt out of place, clutching her clutch bag, adjusting the silk dress that hugged her frame a little too perfectly.
"Relax," her friend teased, dragging her toward the dance floor. "It's just a dance, Amara. Nobody's going to bite."
Nobody except the man who'd been burning holes into her from across the room all evening.
Adrian.
He looked devastating in a tailored suit, bow tie undone at his collar, his dark gaze tracking her every movement. When she laughed politely at another man's compliment, his jaw tightened. When someone asked her to dance, he was suddenly there—appearing at her side like a shadow that refused to let her go.
"She's taken," Adrian said smoothly, though there was no ring, no claim. Just him. His voice held a dangerous confidence that made Amara's pulse race.
The other man chuckled nervously and stepped aside. Adrian extended his hand, eyes locked on hers. "Dance with me."
It wasn't a question.
Her heart stuttered. "Adrian, I—"
"Please." Just one word, low and raw, unraveling the steel in his tone.
She placed her hand in his.
The world melted away the second his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer than was appropriate for polite society. The music was slow, soft, yet her heartbeat thundered as if the entire room could hear it.
"Why do you always do that?" Adrian murmured, his lips dangerously close to her ear.
"Do what?" she whispered, breathless.
"Make me forget every rule I've ever lived by." His words sank into her skin, scorching, unraveling her defenses.
Her hands trembled against his chest. "Adrian…"
His grip tightened, his forehead brushing against hers as if he was fighting a battle with himself. For a long, endless moment, it felt like he would close the distance—that his lips would finally claim hers.
But then—he pulled back just enough, eyes smoldering with restraint. "You drive me mad, Amara."
Her knees nearly buckled, but he held her steady, leading her in the slowest, most intimate dance of her life.
And for the first time, Amara realized—Adrian wasn't just a storm passing through her world.He was the storm.And she was already caught in it.