The mansion was silent, but Amaya couldn't sleep. Every wall whispered of Adrian's presence, every corner felt like his gaze lingered there.
Restless, she crept into his study. It was locked, of course—but she'd always been resourceful. A hairpin, a soft click, and she slipped inside.
The room was a world of shadows and secrets. File cabinets lined the walls, papers spread across the desk. She scanned quickly—contracts, accounts, photographs. And then—
Her breath caught.
A file with her name.
Her childhood. Her family. Dates, bank records, even the incident that had driven her to revenge in the first place. Adrian knew everything.
The door creaked behind her.
"Curiosity is a dangerous habit, Amaya."
She froze. Adrian leaned against the frame, eyes gleaming in the dim light. Not angry. Not surprised. Just amused.
"You've been digging into me," he said smoothly, strolling forward, "but it seems I've been digging deeper into you."
Amaya's fists clenched at her sides. "You think you've won just because you know my past?"
"No," Adrian whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch infuriatingly gentle. "I'll win because I know your future. And it's right here—in my arms."
Her heart thundered as their gazes locked. Hatred, fear, and something she refused to name burned between them.