Picture Of Adrien Agreste นิยาย & เรื่องราว

She hesitated for half a heartbeat—stranger, foreign city—then reminded herself it was broad daylight in a busy café. “Sure.” He pulled the chair out and sat, setting his cup down. Up close, his eyes were a warm hazel. “I am Adrien with an e. Very important.” He smiled like it was an old joke. “Aria,” she replied. “With an i.” “Aria,” he repeated, rolling it in his mouth. “C’est joli. Very pretty.” Her cheeks warmed. “Thanks.” “You are American?” “Yeah. How could you tell?” He tapped his temple. “I have a gift.” Then he laughed. “And the accent. And the sneakers.”

Tommy said and Kristen felt like punching in him the face for making it more difficult for Adrian. “Adrian painted it. He likes to paint some times and his initials are A.T, Adrian Tremont,” Kristen said as nonchalantly as her voice would allow her and then in the very next moment asked, “Does anyone want some cake?” Bea rose up her hand and rushed to her side. Everyone else didn’t really have a choice but to leave the issue.

“Should I leave you two lovebirds alone when he arrives? Ryan flushed. “It’s not like that. “Uh-huh. That’s why you took ten minutes deciding between two shirts this morning. Ryan groaned just as a familiar figure stepped into the restaurant. Adrien. He looked stunning, in a charcoal grey suit that hugged his tall frame, no tie, shirt slightly unbuttoned to reveal the sharp lines of his collarbone. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on Ryan and then, a slow smirk curled on his lips. Ella sat upright. “Okay, maybe you weren’t exaggerating. He’s giving villainous heartbreaker vibes.

"Someone knew you were coming here tonight, Adrian," Nathan whispered, his voice dangerously tight. "I stepped out for exactly two minutes to get Raina a bottle of water from the machine. When I came back, this was sitting on the chair right next to her head." Adrian’s blood ran completely cold. He snatched the black envelope from Nathan’s hand, tearing it open. Inside was an old photograph from nearly a decade ago. It showed a young Adrian standing on the deck of a mega-yacht in Monaco, his arm slung casually around the shoulder of a handsome, dark-haired young billionaire with a dangerously charming smile.

I replied with a smile. She nodded immediately and gestured for me to follow her. My eyes scanned the restaurant as we walked and then I saw him. Adrien was already seated at a table near the window. He stood up the moment he noticed me walking over. He looked really good. There was just something about him that had me captivated. He was dressed in a dark suit, the top button of his shirt undone just enough to look relaxed. His hair was neatly styled and the soft lighting of the restaurant made his icy blue eyes stand out even more.

I turned around and made a big mistake by looking up at him, I repeat big mistake. I swear Adriano had to be on the list of Greek gods, his chest and biceps were well to sculpted don't even get me started on his eight pack, he had an eight pack for Pete's sake and his skin was perfectly tanned even though he was a tad bit dark because of the Latin genes he inherited from his mum. My eyes went lower finding his tattooed torso and V that was visible since his sweatpants hang dangerously low around his waist. Damn I could only imagine my legs wrapped around his torso while his strong arms gripped my ass. Fuck

I picked up my phone, pretending to check messages, and quickly texted Kieran: “Come get me. Someone is trying to socialize with me.” Adrian stood up and buttoned his jacket. “If you change your mind,” he said softly, “call me. I’m usually outside, near the garden. It’s more peaceful there. And I have…” He paused, smirking a little. “…a better offer than this boring party.” My eyes narrowed slightly. A better offer? Yeah. Definitely flirting. And right now, I hated men. All of them. “I'm fine,” I insisted. He laughed. “What if I tell you that I have a piece painted by Aurelia Mendez. Her last work she worked on before she died of cancer.”

Cynthia, his ex, they were still talking after all, she was the one who did this. "She was the one who sent you this picture right?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper. "What are you talking about?" Adrien just stared at his ringing phone, without bothering to pick it up, “Adrien, this image is not real, it is photoshopped.You have to believe me!” “Stop talking rubbish!!" He snapped, his voice as frigid as it always is. “You are obviously the one in the picture or do you have a twin I don't know about.,simply sign the paperwork”. I felt my blood heating up.

“You two are either geniuses or complete psychopaths.” Isabella tilted her head. “Probably both.” Leo chuckled, but his eyes remained cold. “Now, let’s see if Moreau takes the bait.” Monte Carlo, Monaco – A Private Penthouse Adrien Moreau sat in his luxury penthouse, swirling a glass of vintage Bordeaux in his hand. The dim lights cast long shadows over the pristine marble floors, and a breeze drifted in from the open balcony overlooking the Mediterranean. But Adrien wasn’t admiring the view. His attention was fixed on the financial reports glowing on his tablet.

“Sir, materials from last month’s launch. PR team is compiling the portfolio for Veyra Luxury Estates.” As he placed the file on the desk, a few photographs slipped free. Adrian’s gaze caught a fragment. Something familiar. “What is that?” Thomas glanced down. “Photos from the event, sir.” A pause then Adrian said quietly, “Show me.” Thomas laid them out. One by one. It wasn’t Lillian. It wasn’t even Alessia. It was her. Elara. Captured mid-movement, speaking with investors, focused, composed. Adrian reached for one photo. His fingers lingered against the image, as if the paper carried warmth.