Chapter 4

The crystal glass in Adrian’s hand trembled violently before it finally slipped, shattering into a thousand jagged shards against the marble floor. The sound was like a death knell piercing the stifling silence of The Savoy’s ballroom. Beside him, Sienna Montgomery dug her sharp red nails into Adrian’s sleeve, her face turning a ghostly pallor as if she were staring at the Grim Reaper clad in red silk.

  "E—Elaine?" Adrian’s voice cracked, barely audible beneath the rising fever of the guests' whispers.

  I didn't blink. I let the silence hang, savoring every second of the terror crawling across the face of the man I once called my fiancé. But according to the plan Alistair and I had forged in the car, I didn't give him the answer he sought.

  I tilted my head slightly, observing him with a hollow, vacant expression as if he were nothing more than an insignificant insect that had accidentally flown into my path.

  "I beg your pardon?" my voice came out with a heavier, smoother, and entirely foreign accent. "I’m afraid you have mistaken me for someone else, Mister...?"

  Alistair, standing beside me like an immovable fortress, let out a low chuckle. The baritone sound was profoundly intimidating. He slid his hand around my waist, pulling me flush against his body in a possessive arc—a clear message to everyone in the room regarding exactly who I was to him.

  "Adrian, have you lost your manners in London?" Alistair spoke with a calm, yet lethal, reprimanding tone. "Allow me to introduce Elara Vane, my business associate and private consultant from Zurich. She is the one who helped me secure the remaining shares of Vance Global—the ones you so carelessly overlooked last week."

  "Elara... Vane?" Adrian murmured, his eyes raking over my face hungrily, searching for a single slip, a single lie. "Impossible. Father, she... her face, her eyes... she is the image of my former fiancée, Elaine Vance!"

  The bastard. Our engagement had never even been officially annulled, yet he was already referring to me as his 'former' fiancée?

  I offered a sinister smile—one that touched only the corners of my lips while my eyes remained dead. "Elaine Vance? A charming name. I heard the poor woman vanished during a holiday? Truly tragic. But I assure you, Mr. Blackwood, I am far more... dangerous than any woman you have ever known."

  Sienna emboldened herself to take a step forward. "Don't play games! You’re her! You’re wearing that mask just to torment us, aren't you? Adrian, she must have survived the—"

  Sienna choked on her words as Alistair fixed her with a steel-grey gaze that could freeze blood in anyone's veins. "The what, Miss Montgomery? The failed holiday? Or is there something I don’t know about Elaine’s disappearance?"

  The atmosphere turned suffocating. Adrian immediately yanked Sienna back, realizing they had nearly exposed their own crime in a moment of panic.

  "It’s nothing, Dad," Adrian replied quickly, though cold sweat began to bead on his forehead. "It’s just... the resemblance is staggering."

  "It’s a small world, Mr. Blackwood Junior," I interjected, stepping forward until the space between me and Alistair thinned, and I could feel his gaze burning into my back. "Sometimes, ghosts of the past return simply to ensure that the living do not sleep soundly."

  I took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, sipping it slowly while staring directly into Adrian’s restless eyes. "I am not here to discuss missing persons. I am here because Mr. Alistair Blackwood has mandated me to audit every asset of Vance Global that you just claimed. As of tomorrow morning, your office is no longer your own."

  Adrian’s face shifted from pale to a livid crimson. "Dad! You can’t do this! You’ve been gone for ten years, and now you return with this stranger to seize what I’ve worked for?"

  Alistair stepped forward, positioning himself between Adrian and me. The contrast between the two men was jarring. Adrian looked like a boy throwing a tantrum, while Alistair was a sovereign disciplining a subordinate.

  "I am seizing nothing, Adrian," Alistair said in a low voice that vibrated through my chest. "I am merely reclaiming what you are unfit to hold. You aren't clever enough to manage an empire of this magnitude alone. And Elara... she is the instinct you lack."

  Alistair then turned to me, his gaze shifting into something far more intense, darker, and laden with hidden fire. "Come, Elara. I believe this room is becoming stifled by the scent of desperation."

  He guided me away from the crowd, but before we truly vanished, I stole a glance back. I saw Adrian standing frozen, staring at my retreating figure with a volatile cocktail of desire, fear, and obsession.

  My plan worked. By casting doubt on my identity, I would make Adrian obsessed. He would hunt me to find the truth, and that was when I would draw him slowly into the abyss I had prepared.

  We reached a secluded balcony overlooking the River Thames. The biting London night air nipped at my silk gown, making me shiver.

  Suddenly, a warm blazer was draped over my shoulders. Alistair stood behind me, his hands lingering on my shoulders after placing the jacket.

  "You performed exquisitely, Elara," he whispered. The alias sounded like a caress against my ear.

  I turned, finding his face only inches from mine. Under the moonlight, Alistair Blackwood appeared far more tempting. There was something irresistible about a man who owned everything yet looked at me as if I were the only thing of value in his world.

  "He’s terrified," I said, trying to steady my erratic breathing. "But he’s also becoming obsessed. He won’t let 'Elara Vane' go."

  "That was always the goal," Alistair replied. His hand moved, his fingers tracing the line of my throat, stopping right where my pulse hammered wildly. "But remember one thing, Elaine. You are the bait for them, but you are mine. Do not let him touch you, not even with the tip of his finger."

  The tension that had been building between us all week snapped. Alistair didn't wait for my answer. He leaned down, kissing me with an intensity that stole the very air from my lungs. This wasn't a gentle kiss; it was the kiss of a conqueror marking his territory.

  I gripped his collar, returning the kiss with an equal hunger. In the middle of the London cold, I felt like I was burning. I knew this was wrong. He was the father of the man who nearly destroyed me. Yet, in Alistair’s arms, I didn't feel like a victim. I felt like a queen preparing for war.

  Alistair broke the kiss, his breath ragged. He pressed his forehead against mine. "Tomorrow, the real game begins. Are you ready to walk into that office and make them beg?"

  I smiled, a smile filled with the taste of victory. "I'm not just ready, Alistair. I’m craving it."

  In the distance, the lights of London shimmered, bearing witness to the birth of a forbidden alliance that would bring the Blackwood dynasty to its knees from within.