Chapter 1

Chapter 1

ADRIAN POINT OF VIEW

The crystal glasses clink around me. I force a smile I've practiced since I was a kid. The Whitehall Hotel ballroom shines with money, bright lights, women with jewels,men in expensive suits. This is my world. My beautiful prison.

"Lancaster Enterprises is growing in new markets," I hear myself say to the businessmen around me. The words come out automatically while my mind wanders. "Our Asian expansion is up seventeen percent."

They nod, impressed. They should be. At twenty-eight, I proved myself quickly in the family business. I brought fresh ideas that doubled company profits in three years. My grandfather Reginald only gave me this job after I got my master's degree and proved I was "worthy" of the Lancaster name.

"Your grandfather must be proud," says Jefferson Moore, an old family friend who once tried to set me up with his daughter.

I take a burning sip of whiskey. "Grandfather is never satisfied," I say lightly, though the words carry the weight of my whole life trying to be good enough.

As they start talking about golf and vacation homes, my eyes search the room without meaning to. I don't want to admit who I'm looking for.

Then I see him.

Elias stands by the bar, his tall body easy to spot even in the crowd. The sight knocks the air from my lungs. It's been three days since we last stole time together, rushed hour in my downtown apartment, away from watching eyes. Three days of empty texts that said nothing real because we can't risk the truth.

Elias wears a simple black suit that fits him perfectly. No family fortune bought it, just his hard work and good taste. He works at Morrison Architects, a firm that often competes against Lancaster developments. Our work rivalry makes our secret relationship even more dangerous.

"Excuse me," I say, walking away before anyone can respond.

I move through the crowd, nodding at people whose names I barely know. People my family thinks are important enough to mix with. The Lancaster name opens doors, creates chances, demands respect. It also builds walls and controls my choices.

I reach the bar but stay far from where Elias talks with a woman I don't know. I order another whiskey, my third tonight. Not enough to numb the pain, but enough to make me dangerous to myself.

"Another Lancaster Enterprises success," says a voice beside me. Gregory Williams, head of a rival company, appears at my elbow. "Your grandfather must be enjoying the glory."

I look across the room where Grandfather holds court. At eighty-four, he's still powerful, straight-backed, silver-haired, cold blue eyes that miss nothing. Eyes that have narrowed with disappointment so many times in my life.

"Grandfather doesn't enjoy," I say. "He plans the next conquest."

Gregory laughs. "The old lion never rests. Speaking of conquests, I hear congratulations are coming. Your grandfather mentioned changes in your personal life."

The whiskey turns sour in my mouth. Another announcement Grandfather made without asking me. Another decision about my life made by someone else.

"Grandfather speaks out of turn," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the anger burning inside me.

"My mistake." Gregory's smile is fake. "I'll wait for the official news."

When he walks away, I grip the bar until my knuckles turn white. Two years of hiding my relationship with Elias, of meeting in secret places, of being careful with every word, every look. Two years of loving someone I can never show to the world while Grandfather plans my future as if I have no say at all.

I risk another glance at Elias and find him already looking back. Our eyes meet across the crowded room, and everything else fades, the music, the laughter, the expectations. Just for a moment.

Elias's face stays neutral, showing nothing to anyone watching. But I see what others can't, the slight tightness around his eyes, the almost hidden clench of his jaw, the way his fingers grip his glass too hard. Signs that tell me everything words can't.

Someone calls Elias's name, breaking our connection. He turns away, and I feel the loss like a physical wound.

I down my drink and slam the empty glass on the bar. The bartender looks up, startled, but I'm already moving toward the terrace doors. I need air. I need space from the crushing weight of pretending.

The night air hits my face, cold and sharp. Spring is here, but the nights still feel like winter. I welcome it, hoping it might clear my head. The terrace is empty, everyone still inside enjoying the warmth and music and fake happiness.

"Running away again?" His voice sends electricity down my spine.

I don't turn around. I can't trust myself if I do. "Not running. Breathing."

Elias steps beside me at the stone railing, leaving careful space between us. Always careful in public. Always afraid of watching eyes.

"Your grandfather cornered me earlier," he says quietly. "Asked where I worked. Then spent ten minutes telling me about the bright future ahead for the Lancaster family. About legacy and bloodlines."

My stomach twists. "He's living in the past."

"Maybe." Elias's fingers tap against the stone, inches from mine. So close. Impossibly far. "But he controls the present."

The truth of those words hangs between us, heavier than any fight we've ever had. Grandfather controls everything, the company, the family money, my life.

"I've been working on a new project," Elias says, changing the subject. His voice softens, showing the passion that first drew me to him. "A community center in the East District. Something different from our usual corporate buildings. Something that matters."

I turn to look at him then, unable to resist anymore. Elias's face in the moonlight steals my breath, his strong jaw, the curve of his lips, the tiny scar above his eyebrow from a childhood accident he told me about during long nights in each other's arms.

"Show me," I say.

Elias pulls out his phone and shows me his sketches. He moves closer, our shoulders almost touching as he holds up the screen.

"The neighborhood needs something beautiful," he explains, his finger sliding across images of the building. "Not just useful. These people deserve beauty in their lives too."

I study the design, but more than that, I study Elias's hands, strong hands that have moved across my skin with both gentleness and hunger. Hands that create beauty from nothing but thoughts and dreams.

"It's amazing," I say, meaning it. Elias has always seen possibilities where others see only limits. "Your firm is lucky to have you."

"My firm doesn't care about the social part," he says, his face hardening with determination. "They want profitable corporate projects, not community centers with small budgets."

For a moment, we're just two professionals talking about architecture. Then Elias looks up, and our faces are inches apart. Too close for safety, too far for what we both want.

"I miss you," he whispers, the words almost lost in the night air.

I close my eyes against the pain those three words cause. "Don't."

"Three days feels like forever," he continues, his voice barely audible. "Sneaking around, stealing moments. I'm tired of pretending we're nothing to each other."

"We agreed," I say, opening my eyes to face the hurt in his gaze. "After what happened at Christmas..."

"I know what we agreed." His voice turns harsh, then softens again. "I know. But I didn't think it would be so..." He stops, shakes his head. "Doesn't matter what I thought."

I want to reach for him, to pull him close and breathe him in, to feel his heartbeat. Instead, I grip the railing tighter and look at the city lights.

"Grandfather ordered me to dinner Sunday," I say, the words tasting like ash. "He said we have important things to discuss about my future."

Elias goes still beside me. "And you'll go."

It's not a question. We both know the answer.

"What choice do I have?" My voice breaks. "He's all I have. The only family who..." I can't finish. My parents died when I was seven, leaving me to Grandfather's cold care. Care that came with conditions, with expectations, with the constant reminder that the Lancaster name must be protected at all costs.

"You have choices, Adrian. You just won't make them." Elias steps back, making space between us again. "You always say 'someday.' Someday we won't have to hide. Someday you'll stand up to him. Someday you'll choose what you want instead of what he demands."

The truth burns. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple. And that hard." Elias's voice holds no anger now, only tired giving up. "I love you, Adrian. I have for two years. But I can't keep living on somedays."

I turn to him, fear clawing at my throat. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I got an offer. From an international firm. In Chicago." Elias straightens, his face unreadable now. "I'm thinking about taking it."

The world tilts under my feet. Chicago. Hundreds of miles away. A different company. A different life. A life without stolen moments in locked apartments, without secret messages, without the hope of someday.

"You can't," I whisper, sounding weak even to myself.

"Give me a reason to stay." His eyes hold a challenge, a final chance.

Behind us, the terrace doors open. Laughter and music spill out, with voices calling my name. Reality breaking in again.

"Mr. Lancaster!" Someone calls. "Your grandfather is looking for you."

I watch the last hope fade from Elias's eyes.

"That's what I thought," he says quietly. He fixes his tie, his face changing back to the mask he wears around others. "I should get back inside."

"Elias," I reach for him, fingers brushing his arm before falling away. "Please. I need more time."

"Time isn't the problem, Adrian. Courage is." Elias gives a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Congratulations in advance. On whatever your grandfather has planned for your future."

He walks away, back straight, head high, passing the group now entering the terrace without looking back. I watch him go, feeling something breaking inside me, something precious I can't replace.

The city stretches before me, lights blinking in the darkness like fallen stars. Beautiful, distant, cold. Like my life. Like the man I pretend to be.

"Mr. Lancaster?" A voice pulls me back to reality. "Sir, your grandfather is asking for you. He wants to make an announcement."

I turn, my face settling into its perfect mask. The perfect grandson. The worthy heir. The lie I live every day.

"Of course," I say, straightening my shoulders and burying the pain deep where no one can see it. "We mustn't keep him waiting."

As I walk back to the bright, noisy ballroom, I feel the weight of Elias's words crushing me. You have choices. You just won't make them.

I pause at the doorway, looking back one last time at the empty terrace, at the space where Elias stood, at the moment of truth that slipped away like so many before.

Then I step inside, back into my golden cage, the door swinging shut behind me.