The noblewoman's manor gleamed in the moonlight, its spires shadowing the city streets like a watchful predator. Adrian didn't need to step inside yet. He was patient. To weave his net, he needed the threads that bound this house together. And servants always knew more than they realized.
He found her by chance—or perhaps by fate. A kitchen door opened, spilling lamplight into the dark. A girl emerged, carrying a basket of linen, her steps brisk and weary. She couldn't have been more than nineteen. Plain dress, hair pulled into a braid, face softened by exhaustion.
Adrian stepped into her path with that same disarming smile. "Working late?"
She froze, clutching the basket closer. "Who are you? You shouldn't be here." Her voice was stern, but her eyes betrayed the sudden heat that rose in her cheeks when she met his gaze.
He tilted his head, letting his voice drip like honey. "No one important. Just a man who couldn't help but notice you."
Her lips parted, breath catching. Something inside her shifted. She should have stepped back. She didn't.
Adrian closed the space between them slowly, like a predator circling prey, never breaking eye contact. "You serve the Lady of this house, don't you?" he murmured. "Tell me… is she as ruthless as they whisper?"
The girl's fingers tightened on the basket. "I… I cannot speak of her."
Adrian brushed his hand along her wrist, feather-light. The basket slipped, linens spilling across the grass. She gasped, but didn't move to pick them up. Her eyes stayed locked on his.
He bent closer, lips near her ear. "Then don't speak," he whispered. "Show me instead."
Her breath stuttered, body trembling as though every ounce of reason begged her to resist. And yet, when Adrian cupped her chin and tilted her face up, she leaned into him.
"You feel it too," he murmured. "The way your heart races. The way your body burns to give in."
Her answer was not words but a shuddering exhale, her lips parting as though surrender itself had been stolen from her.
Adrian claimed her mouth in a kiss that was soft at first, coaxing, then deeper, hungrier. She melted against him, linen forgotten, her hands clutching at his shirt as if drowning. He pressed her back against the stone wall, the cool surface contrasting the heat blooming between them.
Her gasp turned into a whimper as his fingers traced the curve of her waist, sliding over fabric that suddenly felt like a barrier rather than clothing. Adrian's lips left her mouth, trailing along her jaw, down to the hollow of her throat. She tilted her head without thinking, offering herself like a secret sacrifice.
"Someone might see…" she whispered, though her hips betrayed her, arching toward him.
Adrian smiled against her skin. "That makes it sweeter, doesn't it?"
Her soft cry was swallowed in another kiss, one that left no doubt of her surrender. Every wall of resistance crumbled beneath the weight of his voice, his touch, his presence. She was his before he even touched the last barrier of cloth.
The night swallowed their breaths, their stolen gasps echoing against stone.
And when at last the world blurred into fire and shadow, Adrian whispered against her ear, a promise more dangerous than any spell:
"You'll tell me everything about her… won't you?"
Her trembling answer was a breathless yes.
The rest was silence, broken only by the rhythm of bodies and the dangerous intimacy of secrets traded in the dark.