chapter 9

“What?” I blurted, confusion slamming into me like a freight train, knocking the air from my lungs.

My father’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, his fingers digging in like claws, sharp and unyielding. He twisted, his grip merciless, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my body. I bit back a whimper, forcing it down my throat, but he heard it—he always did. A slow smirk curled at the edges of his lips, satisfaction gleaming in his cold eyes. He relished this. The reminder that he owned me.

“You know how kids are these days.” He let out a dry, humorless laugh, his grip tightening just enough to drive his point home. A warning. His fingers pressed against bone, his nails biting into my skin. Behave.

I kept my expression blank, refusing to let him see how hard my heart pounded against my ribs. This wasn’t part of the deal. I was supposed to get engaged in my sister’s place—not be forced to move in with my mortal enemy.

A thick silence wrapped around the room, the tension nearly suffocating. Mr. Dominic, seated at the head of the grand dining table, tapped his fingers against the polished wood. “Seems like you and Adrian are close,” he mused, his voice laced with curiosity, his gaze unwavering. It felt like a test—one I wasn’t sure I could pass.

Every fiber of my being screamed to deny it, to spit out the truth: Adrian and I were sworn enemies. I hated him. I loathed him. And he felt the same about me. There was no history of friendship between us—only scars left by each other’s knives.

I clenched my teeth, ready to correct him—until Adrian spoke first.

“Yes, Father… We’ve known each other since high school.”

The words landed like a slap, the sting immediately and burning. My head snapped toward him, my pulse spiking. What the hell was he playing at?

Mr. Dominic’s stare lingered, his sharp eyes dissecting Adrian’s words. “Really?” He wanted confirmation.

The truth burned on my tongue, itching to be set free. But the lie I was supposed to tell felt like alcohol—bitter, stinging, evaporating before I could even form it.

My phone buzzed.

I sucked in a breath and glanced down. A single message lit up my screen.

ADRIAN: Act like everything is perfect if you care about your so-called reputation.

A scowl crept onto my face as I lifted my gaze to meet his. He was watching me, a smug glint in his dark eyes, his posture relaxed like he had all the time in the world. Then—he winked.

Smug bastard.

Realization sank its teeth into me. Was he blackmailing me now?

Because of my nudes?

Damn.

The walls closed in. My father loomed beside me, his presence a silent threat, a leash around my throat. Adrian sat across from me, a devil in disguise, holding a knife to my reputation with that single message. And to my right, Mr. Dominic—the devil himself—watched me like a hunter deciding whether his prey was worth keeping alive.

I was trapped. A cornered animal surrounded by three predators, each waiting for the first sign of weakness to strike.

I swallowed the bitter taste of defeat and forced my lips into a careful smile. I could feel my father’s stare drilling into the side of my face, my skin burning under the weight of his expectations.

I had no choice.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Actually,” I added, forcing some lightness into my voice, trying to break the tension that felt like a physical weight in the air, “we’ve always been competing—for everything, even things that didn’t make sense.” The words felt hollow, a thin layer of smoke meant to conceal the fire. Maybe if I could control the narrative, just for a moment, I could ease the suffocating pressure in my chest.

Adrian’s smile widened, a smile I knew too well. It was like a wolf bearing its teeth before a feast. “And isn’t it funny how fate led us to each other? Soon, we’ll be married.”

My stomach churned, and I could feel my throat tighten.

Married?

The word echoed in my mind, hollow and cold. I had barely agreed to an engagement, barely understood the twisted turn of events that had led me here, and now he was talking about marriage?

Fuck him.

Fuck that night everything went south. That night when everything I thought I knew about us crumbled like dust between my fingers.

Fuck his twisted little games.

Fate? No. It wasn’t fate. It was his manipulations, his careful, calculated moves that had led us here, tied together in this sick, complicated mess. But I wouldn’t put all the blame on him.

I was stupid enough to walk into the trap.

My father’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Isn’t this destiny? They’re perfect for each other.”

I felt a surge of heat flood my face, my hands curling into fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. I wanted to scream, to shout, to break something, anything. I wished I could summon a thunderbolt and strike him down where he stood—anything to stop him from smiling like he’d won, like he had everything under control.

Mr. Dominic nodded, his words smooth as oil. “I’ll agree with you, Mr. Lockwood. I hope this union brings peace… and puts an end to all the hostility.”

There was something layered in his words, something beneath the surface that felt wrong, like an unspoken threat. My mind raced to decipher it, but before I could make sense of it, Adrian did something that startled me.

He stepped on my foot under the table, smirking a silent taunt.

“Dad, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to have a chat with my fiancé,” he said, his tone casual, too casual. He grabbed my wrist before I could even react, his grip like steel, the skin of his fingers cold and unyielding.

I tried to yank free, but it was no use. His hand, wrapped around my wrist, was unshakable.

Since when was he this strong?

In all our years of rivalry, I had always been the one to lash out, the one to start the fight, to say the sharpest words. Adrian had always been the calm one, never retaliating, never pushing back. I used to think it was cowardice.

Now, I wasn’t so sure.

As he dragged me out of the room, I could still hear my father’s laughter ringing in my ears. It scraped against my nerves like nails on glass, thin and jagged, a sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

For a brief moment, a flicker of relief surged through me. Maybe this was better, after all. If I was with Adrian, I wouldn’t have to deal with my father’s cruelty anymore, his ever-present shadow that seemed to drain the very life from me.

But as quickly as that thought came, it soured.

I wasn’t escaping anything. I was just walking into a different hell.

With my father, I could curse, fight back, and storm out when I needed to breathe. But with Adrian? I doubted I’d even be allowed to leave the house. I would be trapped in his world, a world where I had no control, no say.

And if he ever pissed me off enough, I knew I’d try to smash his head against a wall, just to feel something.

But then a darker thought wormed its way into my mind.

What if he fought back?

The image of it twisted in my gut. It would be bloody. It would be the kind of fight that would leave scars, and I didn’t want to know what kind of scars Adrian would leave on me.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed when he yanked me into a restroom. The air inside was thick with the staleness of old tiles and the sharp scent of disinfectant, but it was all I could smell now. His presence in such a small space was overpowering, his body too close, his hand still gripping my wrist with an intensity that made my pulse spike.

He released me, but only to step in closer. Too close. I could feel the heat of his body seeping into mine, and I hated how it made my skin prickle with awareness. I could see the sharp angles of his face now, the way the dim light hit his features, accentuating the cruel amusement in his eyes.

He snapped his fingers in front of my face, a sharp, sudden sound that made my heart jump.

“Back to reality, thinker.”

I scowled, feeling the pulse in my temples throb in time with the beat of my blood. His voice was a constant irritation, a buzz in my brain I couldn’t shake. He was so fucking annoying that my hands itched to punch him, to wipe that smug look off his face.

“Stop staring,” he muttered, his voice low and irritatingly calm. “It’s rude.”

I rolled my eyes. “What do you want that required dragging me into a cramped space?”

He didn’t answer.

He just stared.

I felt my scowl deepen, the irritation swelling inside me like a balloon ready to burst. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah.”

I wiped my cheek, irritation bubbling under my skin, my fingers brushing against my face with more force than necessary. “Gone now?”

He hummed, the sound low and condescending. “Nope.”

“What is it?”