Chapter 3

Elena's pov,

The silence between us stretched.

Adrian Laurent stood only a few feet away, watching me like I was some kind of strange puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

It made my skin itch, I shifted slightly under his gaze.

“You said this night became interesting , “ I said carefully. “Why?”

Adrian's lips curved faintly.

Instead of answering, he walked past me towards the bar near the window.

“Drink?” he asked.

“No.”

I watched him pour himself another glass of whiskey anyway. The ice clinked softly as he swirled it.

“You're nervous,” he said without looking at me 

“I think that's a normal reaction,” I replied.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you came here willingly.”

My chest tightened again.

“I told you already. I did.”

Adrian turned, then he leaned casually against the marble counter.

His gaze swept over me slowly—this time it was not in a crude way, but I was careful.

Like he was studying something rare.

“You ‘re not dressed like someone who came here willingly,” he said.

I glared at him, frowning hard 

“What does that even mean?”

“It means,” he said calmly, “most women who come to my penthouse don't look like they're about to attend a damn funeral.”

Just then, my face flushed with heat.

I glanced down at my simple black dress and shot back up.

“Sorry if I didn't meet your expectations.”

“That's the thing,” Adrian said. “You didn't even try.”

The room fell quiet again as the city lights glittered behind him through the massive windows.

He lifted the glass to his lips and took another slow sip.

“Tell me something, Elena.”

“What?”

“If I told you to leave right now… would you?”

The question immediately caught me off guard.

“Yes,” I said immediately.

Adrian's eyebrow lifted slightly.

“No hesitation?”

“But you just asked me a question.”

“And you answered quickly.”

“Well,” I said, folding my arms slightly, “I didn't come here because I wanted to.”

He watched me for another moment, then he asked quietly.

“So, why did you come?”

I swallowed.

Because my fiancé asked me to, because I thought love meant sacrifice, because I believed him when he said we'd get married tomorrow.

But I couldn't bring myself to say these words out, because it felt humiliating—clearly it was.

“I came to help someone I care about,” I said instead.

Adrian let out a soft, humourless chuckle.

“Care about “ he repeated.

He suddenly pushed himself away from the counter and walked towards the window again.

“Do you know what your fiancé said to me during our meeting?”

My stomach tightened.

“What did he say?”

Adrian looked over the city as he spoke.

“He said you'd do anything for him.”

Those words made something inside me twist.

“And apparently,” Adrian continued calmly, “he was right.”

I looked away.

Because hearing the truth from a stranger somehow felt worse than hearing it from Matteo himself.

“He– he didn't force me,” I said, already stammering halfway.

“I know that,” Adrian agreed. “Because from the looks of things, he didn't have to.”

The words lingered heavily in the room and for a moment there none of us spoke.

Then Adrian suddenly turned towards me.

“Take off the ring.”

My head snapped up.

“What?”

“The engagement ring.” he said, as his gaze dropped to my hand.

“I said— take— it—off.”

My fingers instinctively curled around it.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because,” Adrian said evenly, “it's insulting.”

“Insulting?” I muttered, staring back at him.

“Yes, you are standing in my penthouse about to sleep with another man,” he said coldly. “Wearing another man's ring.”

My throat tightened, he wasn't wrong.

I sluggishly and reluctantly slid the ring off my finger. 

The moment it left, my hand felt strangely heavy.

Like something symbolic just got broken. I carefully placed it on the nearby table.

Adrian watched the entire movement silently and then he nodded— just once.

“Good.”

Something about that single word irritated me to my bones.

“What's that for?” I asked.

“You did it.” He smiled.

“But you told me to.”

“Exactly.” His gaze sharpened. “You do what men tell you very easily.”

I could feel my temper flare up from within.

“That's not fair—” I said, almost raising my voice.

“Life isn't, darling.”

“You don't know me.”

“That you are right, but one thing you are not understanding is you are right here in my penthouse,” he said.

That alone ended the argument, because again….

He wasn't wrong.

Adrian walked towards the couch area and sat down casually, stretching one arm along the backrest.

“Come here.”

My stomach twisted again but I didn't move.

He watched me patiently and smiled.

“Relax,” he said. “If I wanted to drag you across the room, I would have.”

That wasn't quite comforting for me, but still….

I slowly walked over and stopped a few steps away.

“Sit.” He said.

I sat on the opposite side of the couch, the distance between us felt both safe and dangerous at the same time.

Adrian studied my face again.

“You are trembling.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

I clenched my hands together to stop them from shaking.

“Look,” I said quietly, “we both know why I'm here. So can we just… get this over with?”

For the first time since I arrived—

Adrian looked genuinely surprised.

“Get it over with?”

“Yes.”

A slow smile appeared on his face again.

But this time it was darker and filled with curiosity.

“Tell me something, Elena,” he said.

“If you're so eager to finish this night…” 

He leaned slightly closer.

“Why do you look like you're about to cry?”

My throat tightened instantly, as I shot back. “I'm not crying.”

“Oh really… Don't tell me you are thinking about him.”

Adrian leaned back again, shaking his head slightly. 

“You are loyal to the wrong man, darling.” He said.

My chest rose and fell unevenly.

“But that's not your business.”

“No,” he said calmly, “But tonight…” he said, his gaze locked onto mine.

“You're mine.”

The words sent a strange chill down my spine, not because they sounded possessive, but because he said them so calmly.

So matter of fact, before I could respond—

His phone vibrated on the table.

Adrian picked it up and glanced at the screen, then his expression changed.

The change was slight, but I noticed it.

“What is it?” I asked, but Adrian didn't answer me immediately.

Instead, he turned the phone towards me. A photo was displayed on the screen and my breath seized instantly.

Because the photo showed Matteo, my fiancé, standing in a beautifully decorated ballroom.

And beside him….

 Was my sister, they were holding hands and right above them hung a large banner which read:

“Congratulations on your engagement!!”

The room began to spin.

“What…” my voice broke, “ What is this?”

Adrian's voice was quiet when he answered.

“And that,” he said, “Is what your fiancé is doing tonight.”