Fractured Desire

Adrian POV

I had already figured out that people were quite predictable a long time ago. Greed, lust, envy - they all were just different forms of the same currency. This was also true about Cassandra Ramirez. Pretty on the outside, but with poison inside. I turned down her offer once and since then she hadn't stopped holding a grudge against me. That was why right after the moment I saw her cornering Elara Santos at that networking gala, seeing her smile sharpened like a blade, I knew perfectly well what she was up to.

She was wounded, still a bit naive, too trusting, and somewhat awkward from the experience.

I saw Cassandra moving closer to Elara, her champagne glass dangerously tilted over Elara's sketch portfolio. An action - to destroy the designs, the project, and the woman.

Not waiting for Elara's reaction, I acted. With my hand, I caught Cassandra's wrist when she was going to throw the wine on Elara.

“Careful,” I said, my voice low enough to freeze her smile. “You wouldn’t want to make a mess.” while looking flatly at her.

Her eyes glared. She couldn't stand it when she was stopped. She hated me even more because of what I did.

However, my focus moved over to Elara. Her big eyes looked into mine—confusion, pride, anger, all mixed together. She detested being rescued almost as much as I disliked seeing her suffer.

If I were honest, I would say that I should have left her then. She was not my concern. She was not meant to be important. But as Cassandra was going, Elara’s shaky hands picking up her drawings, and something inside me was tightening.

I didn't want to her tear down.

Later on, I found myself looking at her again and again. How she managed to work with the contractors who were twice her size, using only her wit was one thing that I couldn't understand. How she didn't let go even when the situation was not in her favor. She was different, not like the others—too sweet, somewhat manipulative, and constantly seeking approval. She was out of her own blinding light.

Still, that blaze tormented me.

I saw her a few days ago having a good time with one of my junior employees—his hand was a little too close to her arm, his smile stayed too long—it couldn’t have been a problem, but still, anger rose within me, sharp and jealous, surprising me with its intensity.

I didn’t have the right to say that. Elara was not mine. She didn’t want to be.

Yet, when her joy stopped at the moment she saw me from afar, and a blush made its way to her face, I knew she wasn’t indifferent either.

There was something untamed, something dangerous, growing between us.

It rained that night and Manila looked majestic. Not only was she one to bring out the best in her city, but she was also that rare and unforgettable kind of woman who brought out the best in you. Through her studio window, city lights smeared with the rain as she worked late with no one else around. I pretended I was there for a brief project update- But it was only me who believed it.

She threw the door open, hair messy, sleeves cuffed up, frustration written all over her face. Heaven, she looked stunning like that- untamed, unrestrained.

" You definitely should not be here," she mentioned, her arms hugging her tight body.

“You look exhausted,” I countered. “Take a break.”

“I don’t need your concern, Sir. Adrian.” Her voice was sharp, but I saw the slight tilt in her hands as she shuffled her papers.

Feeling the urge, I moved closer, close enough to sense the emotion dripping from her. " Not concern. This is... interest," I said.

She gasped for air. An error- hers or mine, I was not sure. All I knew was, the choreography of the space between us charged with the electric heat of a storm about to break.

Her glance met mine. Aggressive. Dangerous. Wanting.

And it was the first time I didn't keep my distance.

We were not intimate that evening. Not yet, at least. Our energies were not compatible. Too delicate and too burdened by what we hadn’t said. When I removed a strand of her hair from her face and when her lips were about to open—every part of me was telling me to take her right then and there.

On the contrary, I went away as if it was the only option left. Because I didn't know if I could stop once I had begun.

But apparently, fate or maybe destiny had other plans.

Later that night, after Cassandra's lies were silenced and she had been humiliated, Elara and I were alone on the balcony. The city was alive with its nightly buzz beneath our feet but I saw nothing but her - a fight, resolve, love and longing all making war in her eyes and her trembling lips.

“Why do you do this?” she whispered, her voice tearing. “Why me?”

Without words, I showed her. A hand of mine was caressing her jaw line, slowly lifting up her face. And before she could react or I could stop myself, I was kissing her.

This was not gentle. This was not for sweetness. It was fury, desperation and possession combined. She threw her hands at my chest, pulled me by my shirt instead of letting go, as if she wanted more of me.

Every promise of restraint was instantly broken. All my fortresses fell down to one little taste of her lips.

When we were finally apart, she was gasping for breath, staring with the same hunger.

“This can’t happen,” she said just loud enough for me to hear.

“Then we could do it once more,” I said in a low voice and kissed her so intensely that there was no world left beyond us.

The rain hadn't stopped since the gala. Manila's skyline was a beautiful sight under the storm, neon lights bleeding through the glass of my penthouse windows. Inside, silence was still there, heavy with its presence and pressed to the limits of our patience, broken only by the faint crackle of the fireplace and the irregular rhythm of our breathing.

She was standing near the glass wall, arms wrapped around herself, trembling not from the cold but from the heaviness of the getting— the kiss. Fierce. Reckless. A mistake that neither of us could deny to exist any longer.

“You shouldn't have done that,” she stated, her back still facing me, barely above a whisper.

“And still, you kissed me,” I added, my voice going off with more irritation than I wanted.

She tried to pretend to be unaffected and looked like she was disappointed in me at the same time.

“I don't trust you,” she declared, and though her voice was quieter, it was still quite firm as she turned to face me.

I got even nearer, erasing the space between us, up to her back that was against the cold glass. “Great. Don’t trust me. Just feel this.”

Before she could say anything, my lips were on hers. My hands, acting crazier than before, were against the window on either side of her, holding her in. She worked to get me off her, but at the same time, her fists that dug into my shirt were pulling me closer.

The glass was cold on her back, and my heat was on her from the front. 

“Adrian—” she spat out against my mouth.

“Say stop,” I said, my voice cracking, and quickly growled, “Say it then, and I’ll step away.”

However, she didn't speak. She couldn't. Her silence was my answer.