Serena sat frozen in the library, the weight of her father's words pressing down on her.
"The Blackwoods don't play fair."
She stared at Adrian, searching his face for a lie, for something—anything—that would disprove her father's warning.
But Adrian said nothing.
And that silence spoke volumes.
Her fingers curled around the stem of her wine glass. "You're not denying it."
Adrian exhaled slowly, stepping closer. His presence was dark, commanding, almost suffocating. "Serena, your father has no credibility. He's a desperate man who—"
"That's not an answer," she cut in, standing.
His jaw tensed. "It's the only one you need."
Her pulse hammered. "So it's true."
Adrian's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes—something sharp and knowing. "Serena, I have built an empire by playing the game better than anyone else. That doesn't make me the villain."
She let out a sharp laugh. "You're not exactly the hero either, Adrian."
His smirk was dark, amused. "I never claimed to be."
Serena's heart pounded as she took a step back. "So tell me the truth. What kind of game am I really caught in?"
Adrian's gaze darkened, his fingers trailing over the edge of her jaw. "One you're not ready for."
A chill raced down her spine.
Because deep down, she knew he was right.
—
A Storm Brewing
The next morning, Serena found herself in the grand dining room, stirring a spoon absentmindedly through her untouched coffee. The rain outside mirrored the storm inside her—unease settling in her chest like a heavy weight.
She barely looked up when Adrian entered, dressed in his usual tailored perfection. His presence alone commanded attention, but Serena refused to let him see how rattled she still was from last night.
Adrian took his seat across from her, studying her with unreadable eyes. "You're quiet this morning."
She took a sip of her coffee, feigning indifference. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
She met his gaze. "About how little I actually know about you."
His smirk was slow, calculating. "You know more than most."
"Do I?" she challenged, setting her cup down. "Because sometimes, I think I'm just another pawn in whatever game you're playing."
Adrian's expression didn't falter, but something flickered in his gaze. "If I wanted a pawn, Serena, I would've chosen someone far easier to manipulate."
Her breath caught.
Because despite everything—despite her doubts and suspicions—she knew Adrian had never treated her like a mere piece on his chessboard.
No, he wanted her involved.
But the question was, why?
Before she could push further, Adrian's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening. "I have to take this."
Serena watched as he stepped away, his voice low and clipped as he spoke in hushed tones. She couldn't make out much, but two words stood out:
"Take care of it."
Her stomach twisted.
She had no idea what Adrian was involved in.
But she was starting to realize that maybe she didn't want to.
—
The Invitation
That afternoon, a package arrived for Serena.
She frowned as the butler set the velvet box before her, a pristine white envelope resting on top.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened it.
Inside was an invitation—handwritten in elegant calligraphy.
Olivia Kensington cordially invites you to an exclusive soirée.
Beneath it, in sharp, cursive script, was a personal note:
"Let's see if you really own the part, darling."
Serena's nails dug into the paper.
This was a challenge.
A test.
Olivia was baiting her, daring her to prove that she belonged in Adrian's world.
Serena's lips curled into a slow smirk.
Game on.
—
The Soirée
The evening arrived, and Serena stepped into Olivia's estate, her head held high.
She wore a deep crimson dress—bold, commanding, unapologetically stunning. A statement. A warning.
Adrian was by her side, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.
Heads turned as they entered, whispers trailing behind them like shadows.
Olivia greeted them at the grand staircase, her emerald dress shimmering under the golden lights. "Ah, Mrs. Blackwood," she purred, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
Serena smiled coolly. "Olivia."
Olivia's gaze flickered to Adrian. "And of course, the ever-elusive Mr. Blackwood."
Adrian's expression remained unreadable, but his grip on Serena's waist tightened ever so slightly.
Olivia's smirk widened. "I hope you both enjoy the evening. Things are bound to get... interesting."
Serena narrowed her eyes. "I don't doubt it."
Olivia let out a soft, knowing laugh before disappearing into the crowd.
Adrian leaned down, his lips brushing against Serena's ear. "Are you sure about this?"
She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze. "I don't back down."
His smirk was approving. "That's what I like about you."
But as they moved deeper into the party, Serena couldn't shake the feeling that she had just walked into something far more dangerous than she had anticipated.
—
The Trap
An hour into the soirée, Serena found herself separated from Adrian.
She wandered through the dimly lit hallways of Olivia's estate, the heavy scent of perfume and champagne clinging to the air.
Then, she heard it.
A hushed conversation.
She slowed her steps, her pulse quickening.
Two voices. One she recognized instantly—Olivia.
The other… male. Unfamiliar.
"You should have told me sooner," the man hissed.
Olivia's tone was calm, amused. "Patience, darling. Timing is everything."
Serena's brows furrowed.
Told him what?
Before she could listen further, a hand suddenly wrapped around her wrist.
She gasped, spinning—only to find herself staring into Adrian's dark, unreadable gaze.
"You shouldn't be here," he murmured, his grip firm but gentle.
Serena swallowed hard. "What's going on?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he pulled her away from the corridor, leading her through the crowd until they reached the exit.
"Adrian—"
"Not now," he said tightly, his voice laced with something she couldn't quite place.
Serena stiffened. "I deserve to know—"
He turned abruptly, his fingers tilting her chin up. His gaze burned into hers. "Serena, you're playing with fire. And if you keep pushing, you're going to get burned."
She stared at him, her heart hammering.
Because for the first time, she wasn't sure if Adrian was warning her—
Or himself.
—