Chapter 7.5

Adrian led me through the grand doorway, his hand still on mine. We walked into the dining room, a space so elegant it felt sterile. He sat at the head of the table, gesturing for me to sit beside him.

I took the chair to his right, ignoring the twin glares burning into me from Damian and Lucia as they followed us inside.

Adrian leaned down close to me, his breath warm against my ear, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

I turned my head slightly, biting back a triumphant grin. “Better than okay. The look on his face was worth every single hour it took to get ready.”

From across the table, I knew exactly what this looked like to them. Adrian’s head was tilted close to mine, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my earlobe as he whispered. To Damian, it probably looked like his father was practically devouring me right there in the open.

Adrian cleared his throat, slowly shifting his eyes back to his son, instantly shattering the thick silence. “So, Damian. Where exactly is your fiancée? Running late to her own celebratory dinner?”

“None of your goddamn concern,” Damian snapped, his hands shaking violently as he gripped his wine glass. He shot a vicious, desperate glare my way. “All you need to know is that she’s from a real family. Not some trailer-trash waitress who smells like cheap kitchen grease.”

I didn't even flinch. I casually picked up my crystal glass, taking a slow sip of the expensive red wine. I watched him throw his pathetic little tantrum, a victorious smirk spreading across my face. Payback is a beautiful thing, you asshole.

Damian couldn't hold the toxic venom in any longer. He slammed his wine glass down onto the table, the liquid sloshing over the crystal rim.

“This is a total joke,” Damian laughed bitterly. “Last time I checked, Elle, you were practically begging on your knees for me not to leave you. You couldn’t wait to throw that pathetic body of yours at me. What changed? Did my father’s bank account suddenly make him look more appealing to a desperate charity case like you?”

I set my glass down with leaning forward over the table to look at him with pure pity.

“You’re entirely right, Damian,” I said, my voice steady, clear, and cutting. “Five years ago, I was a naive kid looking for something real, and I wasted my prime years trying to prop up a weak, insecure little boy who couldn't handle a real woman with real curves. So yes... I finally grew up. And I upgraded to a real man.”

Adrian’s hand covered mine on the table. “Elle doesn’t need to explain herself to you. Or anyone else. But if your fragile ego is feeling this incredibly insecure Damian, you should learn how to treat women better.”

Lucia let out a sharp, mocking laugh from the side. “Just like you treated me, right Adrian? Chasing every single piece of trash in a short skirt?” she sneered. “You always did have an incredibly low-class taste for young, damaged women. First me, and now this... this little nobody.”

“Damaged?” I repeated, letting out a genuine, mocking laugh of my own that completely cut Lucia off. I leaned back in my chair, looking at her expensive diamond necklace. “Coming from a woman who has been living off alimony checks for the last two decades because she couldn't build a single thing on her own? That is incredibly rich, Lucia.”

Beside me, I heard Adrian let out a low, deeply amused chuckle under his breath, clearly thoroughly impressed by the fire in my blood.

“Watch your mouth, little girl,” Lucia snapped. Her eyes narrowed into lethal slits. “I am talking to my husband.”

“Ex-husband,” I corrected instantly, my tone dripping with sweet malice. “And unlike you, Lucia, I don’t need a man’s bank account to prop up my entire identity. I’m sitting at this table because Adrian actually wants me here. Can you say the same?”

Damian’s face turned an ugly, mottled red, his temper completely boiling over the edge. He stood up so fast his chair screeched against the floor. “You trashy, opportunistic slut!” he screamed, pointing a trembling finger at me. “You’re using my own father just to get back at me for throwing you away, aren’t you? You’re nothing but a goddamn whore!”

I smirked, unbothered. “And if I am? At least Adrian has the guts to stand by me, unlike you.”

“Sit the fuck down, Damian,” Adrian growled, his aura shifting into something purely lethal. “Have some goddamn manners in front of my woman, or I will personally drag you out to the pavement.”

Damian’s chest heaved, his mouth opening to unleash another unhinged scream, but before a single word could leave his throat, Adrian’s phone vibrated violently against the dark mahogany wood of the table.

A sudden, terrifyingly smug grin slowly spread across Damian’s face. The anger vanished from his eyes, replaced by a dark, disgusting look of utter triumph.

“Why don’t you check your phone, Daddy dearest,” Damian said, smugness dripping from every word

Adrian frowned, his dark brows furrowing as he slowly reached out and picked up the vibrating device. I watched his face closely, my heart suddenly dropping into my stomach as I saw his features completely freeze. His jaw tightened into a dangerously hard line, the color draining from around his lips.

I reached out, gently touching the sleeve of his suit. “Adrian? What is it? Is everything okay?”

He didn’t respond.

Suddenly, my own phone buzzed violently in my lap. I pulled it out. It was an urgent text message from my mother.

Mum: What on earth is going on, Elle?! Why aren’t you answering my calls? Where are you right now? Look at the news portal right now!!

My heart thundered like a trapped bird against my ribs as I clicked the internet link she had attached to the message.

The web page was a local high-society blind-item blog, and right at the top were two massive, high-definition photographs. The first picture was from the charity gala—a shot of Adrian and me locked in a passionate, intense kiss on the dark balcony, our faces partially hidden by the masquerade masks.

But the second picture?

My breath died in my lungs. It was an explicit, cctv footage image taken through the glass windows of the library. There were no masks. It was a perfectly lit, undeniable shot of my bare skin, my flushed face, and our tangled limbs exposed on the leather couch as Adrian pinned me beneath him.

I looked up, my eyes darting between the smug expressions on Damian and Lucia’s faces.

They did this.