True Intent.

Sera's POV

The silence in the dining room hung heavy and suffocating, thick enough to choke on. Every eye at the table was fixed on me, but all I could feel was the icy, calculating glare of the Kingsley matriarch.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. My hands trembled beneath the table, clutching my gown so hard my knuckles turned white.

I held my breath, waiting for Adrian to say something and defend me, because for the life of me, I had no reply to her question.

Adrian slowly turned to his mother. His posture unyielding, his sharp jaw set like carved stone. When he spoke, his voice was utterly void of emotion, dripping with cold, detached arrogance.

“I didn't just settle for her, Mother," Adrian said smoothly, leaning back in his chair and swirling his wine glass with casual indifference. “I picked her because it was business. Richard Hale had something I wanted, and I had something he desperately needed. We struck a deal.”

Her dark eyebrows raised, her lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line.

“She was simply convenient,” Adrian continued, his voice echoing with brutal clarity. “She satisfied the board's demand for a family look, and she was available. Nothing more.”

She scoffed, setting her cloth napkin beside her plate. “You still could have done far better than this timid looking church rat, Adrian.”

“She serves her purpose, Mother. That's enough for me.” Adrian dismissed coldly, shifting his attention back to his plate as if the discussion were completely over.

I serve my purpose?

His words felt like a sharp blade plunging straight into my chest. A silent, burning ache bloomed behind my ribs.

So this was what Adrian thought of me? A convenient piece of a struck deal, something to ‘serve the purpose’ of his board members, nothing more.

Foolish.

I had been so utterly foolish.

I had let myself get swept up in the soft touches in Paris, the quiet murmurs in the bathroom when he held me through my panic attack, and the protective warmth of his chest on the plane. I had actually started to believe that a tiny spark of something real was growing between us.

But to him, I was just a tool. A convenient piece of paper bound by deals and duty.

Across the table, Milan Rojer’s lips curved into a sharp, knowing smirk. It was almost as if Adrian's harsh dismissal had been a green light for him.

Without the slightest hesitation, he leaned across the corner of the table, his dark eyes sparkling with a sudden, intense interest.

“Don't let that get to you, Victoria,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a smooth, intimate purr meant only for my ears. “You’re much more than that. I would never describe you as a timid church rat.”

I blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. “I... thank you, Milan.”

“In fact,” he continued, tilting his head as his eyes slowly traced my face, lingering on my lips before meeting my eyes, “This past few months seems to have done wonders for you. You seem softer. And more delicate. It suits you well.”

Heat flushed up my neck, but it wasn't from pleasure—it was pure, frantic confusion. Milan was subtly, blatantly flirting with me right in front of everyone. He leaned in closer, casually placing his elbow on the table near mine, his sharp gaze drinking in every shift in my expression.

I didn't know what to do with the sudden display of affection. If I pushed him away too harshly, I risked offending a man who clearly suspected something was wrong with my identity. But if I let him continue, I was playing a dangerous game.

Beside me, the air temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.

Adrian hadn't said a word, but I could feel the sudden, dangerous shift in his energy. His jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. His dark eyes flickered towards Milan, flashing with a raw, primal hostility that couldn't be masked.

He cleared his throat loudly, a low, rumble of a sound that made me jump.

“If the board members would follow me to the study,” Adrian commanded, his voice dark and hard as he stood up from the table, “we will review the encrypted files and finalize the recovery strategy.”

The older men immediately pushed back their chairs, nodding in agreement. His mother stood up as well, offering me one final, disdainful glare before following her son towards the hallway.

Adrian paused at the doorway, his dark eyes sweeping back to the table. His gaze burning into mine with an intense, unspoken warning, before he turned and vanished down the corridor with his team.

The grand dining room emptied, leaving only Milan and me.

I immediately stood up from the table, desperate to put physical distance between us. “I think I'll look at the artwork in the foyer while we wait for them,” I said quickly, keeping my tone polite.

“Allow me to join you,” Milan insisted smoothly, pushing back his chair and stepping up right beside me as I walked out into the main hall.

We stopped in front of a massive, breathtaking oil painting hanging on the wall. I stared up at it, trying to focus on the brushstrokes just to keep my mind off the crushing weight of Adrian's words from earlier

“It's intense, isn't it?” Milan asked softly, stepping closer—so close I could smell his expensive cologne.

“It's beautiful,” I whispered, keeping my eyes fixed on the canvas.

“Just like you,” Milan murmured.

Before I could pull away or process his words, Milan reached out. His fingers gently closed around my right hand, lifting it slightly as he pretended to examine the sparkling diamond ring on my finger, his thumb lightly brushing across the back of my cold skin.

“Such a heavy weight for such delicate hands, Victoria,” he whispered, leaning in closer, his dark eyes locked on my face with intense curiosity.

My heart leaped into my throat. I opened my mouth to yank my hand back, but the sound of doors slamming open echoed through the foyer.

Heavy, thunderous footsteps marched down the hallway.

I turned my head frantically just as Adrian rounded the corner, coming out of his study. The moment his dark eyes landed on us—on Milan holding my hand dangerously close to his lips, leaning into my personal space—every ounce of composure dissolved from his face.

A dark, lethal fury exploded across his features.

“What the hell is going on here?”