LOGINAdeline's POVThe shower ran for twenty minutes.I didn't get in. Just sat on the closed toilet lid, staring at the steam clouding the mirror, listening to the water drum against tile. White noise to cover the sound of my ragged breathing. To mask the fact that I was crumbling in a bathroom while somewhere in this mansion, Russio Gravano was probably watching. Waiting. Calculating his next move.The rose sat in the trash. Black petals against white porcelain. My blood on the thorns.Remember your place.When my hands finally stopped shaking, I turned off the water, washed my face with cold water until my skin felt numb. Then reapplied makeup with steady fingers. The woman in the mirror looked composed. Untouchable.She was a perfect lie.I emerged from the bathroom to find Kayden standing in the bedroom doorway.He looked like he'd been running. Tie loose, hair disheveled, grey eyes sharp with something that might have been concern. Might have been guilt."Adeline...""Don't." The
Adeline's POVI didn't rush.That's what he wanted — me scrambling through hallways, already defeated before I stepped through his door. So I took my time instead.The shower ran hot enough to sting. Steam clouded the mirror until I couldn't see my own face, and maybe that was better. Maybe I didn't want to see the fear trying to claw its way to the surface.But hiding wasn't an option.I twisted my hair into a sleek bun, pulled it tight enough to ache. The pain sharpened my focus. Makeup was next, just enough to look polished, not desperate. Black slacks that fit like armor. Silk blouse the color of dried blood because subtlety had never been my strong suit. Heels sharp enough to be weapons if this went sideways.When I finally looked in the mirror, I almost believed the woman staring back at me. Confident. Unshakeable.The tremor in my hands said otherwise.The mansion felt like a tomb at this hour. Cold marble stretched in every direction. Servants drifted past like ghosts, eyes lo
Adeline's POVThe blade was already in my hand before I even registered the sound. Instinct took over — weight balanced, stance low, breath held. The figure on the balcony was nothing but a silhouette framed in cold city light.Then he stepped forward, hands lifted in mock surrender, a grin flashing beneath gold hair."Whoa, whoa! Easy there, Mrs. Gravano." His tone was warm, teasing. "I come in peace. Promise."Behind me, Kayden's body went still. Controlled danger in every breath."Marco," he said, voice edged with irritation. "You couldn't use the door like a normal person?"Marco just smirked, stepping inside with that effortless confidence that only comes from being untouchable. "Where's the fun in normal? I wanted to see if your new wife's reflexes are as good as the rumors."I kept the knife steady, gaze flat. "Most people knock.""Most people are boring." His grin widened, and something flickered beneath the charm — calculation. He turned to Kayden, clasping his shoulder like
Adeline’s POVThe penthouse felt like a gilded cage, all glass and steel and suffocating silence. I stood at the window, city lights blurring through the floor-to-ceiling glass, and tried not to think about how high up we were. How far I'd have to fall.The wedding dress hung in the closet behind me, black silk and lace that had transformed me into something I barely recognized. A Gravano wife. The thought still tasted like poison on my tongue.My neck throbbed where I'd been rubbing it—a nervous habit I'd developed since that night three weeks ago. The night everything changed. The night I should have been smart enough to walk away.But I'd never been smart about the dangerous ones.Footsteps echoed behind me, expensive leather against marble. I knew that walk—predatory, confident, completely at ease in his own territory. I didn't turn around. Couldn't. Not when my pulse was already racing from just the sound."Having second thoughts?" Kayden's voice cut through the quiet, smooth as
Adeline’s POVThe moment I opened my eyes, I knew today wasn’t mine. The weight of it pressed down on my chest like an iron hand.But then Annabelle burst into my room, black roses clutched in her hands, squealing. Her joy was a light I couldn’t snuff.“It’s your wedding day, Addy!” she cried, tossing petals into the air like confetti. “Kayden Gravano’s bride. The whole city will whisper your name.”I didn’t tell her it would be whispered in fear. Or pity.She shoved the roses into my hands. Black, velvet-soft. A Gravano bride didn’t wear white. She wore shadow. She wore power. She wore the kind of beauty that turned every head in the room but warned every soul not to touch. And I was about to step into that skin.The stylists came next, arms laden with silks and lace. They were chatter and perfume, laughter and squeals — not hardened soldiers, but women who didn’t know the danger in this house. Every brushstroke of lipstick felt like a ritual, every clasp of a jewel a chain.“Try thi
Kayden’s POVShe sits across from me, spine rigid, eyes scanning every corner of the room. Every instinct tells her to run, to fight, to find a crack in my control. I let her think it’s possible. Let her imagine escape. It makes the eventual surrender all the sweeter.I lean back in my chair, fingers steepled, observing. The city lights spill into the room, reflecting in her sharp, calculating eyes. She thinks she’s the hunter. She’s clever. Dangerous. But she’s outmatched. Always.“You’re quiet,” I say, my voice calm, deliberate. I let the words linger, let the tension build. “Usually people scream, fight, beg… not you.”Her jaw tightens. She’s aware I’m testing her. Trying to measure how far I can push. Fine. I like it when the prey struggles; it keeps the game interesting.“Don’t think I won’t find a way out,” she warns, voice steady. I can hear the strain beneath the calm. A flicker of fear she refuses to show. Good.I allow myself a small, smile. “You already know every escape is







