The Lancaster Industries headquarters loomed over Park Avenue like a monument to old money and older sins. The building—a neoclassical monstrosity of limestone and wrought iron—bore the family crest above its doors: a lion rampant clutching a sheaf of wheat, its mouth dripping gold. I trailed behind Adam through the lobby, my heels sinking into Persian carpets older than my father's prison sentence. Portraits of dead Lancasters watched our progress with oil-painted eyes. "Try not to embarrass me," Adam murmured, his hand settling possessively on the small of my back. The heat of his touch burned through my silk blouse. " I didn't ask to be here Adam Lancaster"I coldly replied.sincerely,I didn't want to be anywhere close to these insane people."But you are wifey, besides you are now a Lancaster.Not just any Lancaster but my Wife.you are Lucia Adam Lancaster"he said with so much pride laced in voice.I was in no mood to argue so,I let it slide.At the elevator, a familiar fi
The cathedral doors parted to a flood of golden sunlight, the scent of orange blossoms and salt air swirling through the arched nave. My father's arm trembled beneath my grip as we took that first fateful step, his prison-bleached suit hanging loose on his gaunt frame. "Forgive me, mija," he whispered, his calloused thumb brushing my knuckles where they clutched his elbow. The weight of his guilt pressed between us heavier than the ten-carat diamond tiara Eve had fastened to my upswept hair. At the altar, Adam stood haloed in the stained-glass light, his black tuxedo tailored to lethal perfection. The way his gaze tracked my approach—like a wolf watching prey walk willingly into its jaws—sent heat coiling low in my belly despite myself. Behind me, Cara adjusted the endless train of my ivory gown, her maid-of-honor dress the exact shade of the Pacific at dawn. The bruises around her wrists from Lancaster security's "persuasion" had been artfully concealed beneath lace gloves. -
The bedroom door clicked shut behind Adam, sealing us in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. Outside, the storm still raged, rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows like fingers scrabbling to get in. I shivered under the covers, watching as Adam methodically rolled up his ruined sleeves, revealing forearms corded with muscle and faded scars. "You're still shaking," he observed, his voice unreadable. "I'm fine," I lied, pulling the blankets higher. Adam scoffed, moving to the ensuite bathroom. The sound of running water filled the heavy silence. When he returned, he carried a steaming mug that smelled of chamomile and something earthy. "Drink this." I eyed it warily. "What is it?" "Tea, Lucia. It's fucking tea." He thrust it toward me, his knuckles whitening around the ceramic. "Or would you prefer I taste it first to prove it's not poisoned?" Our fingers brushed as I took the mug, sending an unwelcome spark up my arm. The warmth seeped into my chilled hands as I t
The world tilted violently as my knees gave way, the cold shower tiles rushing up to meet me with brutal inevitability. At the last second, strong arms caught me, lifting me effortlessly against a hard chest that smelled of sandalwood and something darker—something uniquely Adam. Water dripped from my hair onto his pristine white dress shirt, spreading dark stains across the expensive fabric like bloodstains. He didn't flinch."Pathetic," Adam murmured, but his hands were unexpectedly gentle as he wrapped me in a plush towel, his fingers lingering for a heartbeat too long on my damp skin. The contrast between his cruel words and careful touch sent a confusing shiver down my spine.I tried to push him away, but my arms felt like they'd been filled with lead. "Get...out..." The words came out as barely more than a whisper, my throat raw from screaming earlier.Adam ignored me completely, carrying me to the bedroom as if I weighed nothing. The silk sheets were shockingly cool against my
The black town car glided through the rain-slicked streets, its tinted windows turning the city lights into smears of gold and shadow. I huddled in the corner, my dress clinging to my thighs, the emerald choker around my throat suddenly too tight. Adam lounged across from me, rolling a crystal glass of amber liquor between his long fingers. The ice clinked as he took a slow sip, his piercing blue eyes never leaving mine. "why did we leave the party?""Because I want to spend some quality time with my wife! Lucia Adam Lancaster "I gave him a death glare."Relax," he murmured, his voice like velvet over steel. "If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't need a moving vehicle to do it." The car descended into an underground garage beneath one of the city's tallest skyscrapers. Adam's hand settled at the small of my back as he guided me to a private elevator, his touch burning through the opened silk of my dress. The elevator ascended silently, the numbers climbing higher until my ears po
The emerald gown slithered across my skin like a living thing, its silk whisper-soft against the bruises Adam's lessons had left behind. I stared at my reflection—the backless design exposed the delicate ladder of my spine, the plunging neckline a hair's breadth from indecent. The choker at my throat winked cruelly in the lamplight, its emerald centerpiece pulsing with every ragged breath I took. "You will be perfect tonight." Adam's command from earlier still burned in my ears, his fingers digging into my hips as he'd fastened the necklace himself, his lips brushing the shell of my ear in a mockery of tenderness. A soft knock. Cara slipped inside, her usual glittering confidence replaced by a pallor that made her look half a ghost already. The sequins on her champagne-colored gown caught the light as she trembled, her fingers clutching a makeup case like a lifeline. "Eve sent me," she whispered, her voice raw. I caught her wrist, feeling the too-quick flutter of he