Blossom turned toward the door, her expression indifferent as she spoke. "Tell him I'll be there shortly."
"Yes, my lady," the butler responded before retreating down the hall.
She ignored Adrien's presence entirely as she hurried to fasten the emerald-green gown she had selected. The dress fit her perfectly, its soft silk hugging her form in all the right places. The deep color made her skin glow under the chandelier's light, and when she glanced at the mirror, she barely recognized herself.
A woman of elegance. Poise. Something untouchable.
And yet, her heart was pounding.
Adrien was still there, his golden eyes burning into her back like a silent predator waiting for his prey to notice him.
She didn't.
Instead, she walked past him without a word, her steps quick and graceful as she made her way toward the grand staircase.
Descending the long flight of stairs, all eyes were on her. The maids paused in their duties, their whispers hushed as they took in her appearance. The emerald gown shimmered beneath the candlelight, flowing behind her like liquid jade, her wavy chestnut hair cascading down her back.
She looked like something out of a dream.
And standing at the base of the stairs was Duke Laurent.
Tall and refined, Duke Cassian Laurent was a man known for his composed demeanor and piercing intellect. His deep blue eyes—the color of the sea before a storm—locked onto her the moment she appeared. Golden hair, sharp features, and a presence that demanded attention.
Dressed in a navy tailcoat with silver embroidery, he looked every bit the noble he was—elegant, powerful, and incredibly handsome.
Blossom's lips parted, ready to greet him, but before she could even speak, a hand landed firmly on her shoulder from behind.
A familiar, possessive grip.
Adrien.
His voice was low, commanding. "Why are you here, Laurent?"
Blossom's body tensed. She turned slightly, about to tell him he had no right to interfere, but before she could even form the words—
Adrien leaned in.
And kissed her.
Not a soft, hesitant kiss. Not gentle.
No.
It was possessive. Aggressive. Completely suffocating.
Blossom gasped against his lips, her fingers tightening at her sides as he stole the breath from her lungs. His grip on her shoulder tightened, his body pressing just close enough for her to feel his warmth, but not enough to trap her.
Heat rushed through her veins.
Her mind blanked.
This wasn't the Adrien she knew.
When he finally pulled away, she could barely think straight.
Laurent's jaw was clenched so tightly it could shatter. His hands curled into fists, rage flickering behind his cool blue eyes.
Adrien wiped his thumb over the corner of his mouth, as if savoring the taste of her. His smirk was downright wicked.
"Sweet," he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "And you look absolutely beautiful tonight, my dear fiancée."
Blossom's head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief.
This bastard.
He kissed her just to prove a point.
Before she could slap him, he kissed her again.
A sharp, dominant press of lips that left her breathless all over again.
Duke Laurent's fury was palpable.
Adrien finally pulled back,tilting his head slightly as he eyed the other man. Then, with mocking casualness, he asked,
"Tell me, Laurent, did you come here to watch us make out?"
Blossom's breath caught in her throat.
Laurent's eyes darkened.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out.
Blossom's breath was still unsteady as she shoved him away, her eyes burning with fury.
"You bastard!" she snapped, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.
Adrien barely flinched. If anything, his golden eyes gleamed with amusement, as if he had expected her reaction.
She turned to leave, her mind still spinning, but his voice stopped her in her tracks.
"What's wrong?" he drawled lazily. "Do you want to chase after your lover?"
Blossom whirled around, her teeth clenched. "He's not my lover."
Adrien didn't seem convinced. With a casual flick of his fingers, he gestured to the butler standing by the entrance. "From now on, Laurent is not allowed inside my estate."
The butler bowed. "Understood, Your Grace."
Blossom's anger ignited like wildfire. "You have no right—"
"Of course, I do," Adrien interrupted coolly. "You're my fiancée."
Her hands trembled with rage. She wanted to scream, to slap him, to wipe that smug look off his face.
But before she could lash out, he grabbed her wrist.
Firm. Unyielding.
She glared up at him, hatred seething in her gaze.
"Come," he ordered, his voice dropping into something colder. "Join me for dinner. And don't think too much about what just happened."
Blossom grit her teeth, her body stiff with fury.
"I feel disgusted," she hissed. "I don't even want to think about it."
Adrien's grip tightened.
"That," he said smoothly, "is not my concern."
Before she could jerk away, he pulled her with him, forcing her to walk beside him toward the grand dining hall.Blossom's fingers curled into the fabric of her dress as Adrien's grip tightened around her wrist, dragging her toward the grand dining hall. His touch was firm—unrelenting—but not enough to hurt. Yet, the sheer audacity of it sent a fiery rage coursing through her veins.
She had barely recovered from that humiliating kiss he had forced on her in front of Duke Elias, and now this?
Her stomach churned with frustration. What was he trying to prove?
As they entered the dining hall, the soft glow of golden chandeliers illuminated the long, extravagant table. The scent of roasted meat, fine wine, and freshly baked bread filled the air. The butlers and maids stood at attention, heads lowered in Adrien's presence.
He pulled her into a seat beside him—far too close.
Blossom stiffened as his fingers brushed against her waist, sending an uninvited shiver down her spine. The warmth of his body was suffocating, his presence overwhelming.
"Eat," Adrien ordered coolly, picking up his utensils as if nothing had happened.
Blossom stared at her plate, her appetite long gone.
Her skin still tingled where he had touched her, and she hated it.
She reached for her glass of water, anything to wash away the frustration clinging to her throat, but before she could take a sip, a silver fork with a small piece of food was suddenly in front of her lips.
Her breath hitched.
Adrien was holding it.
His golden eyes bore into hers, a silent command in them. "Open your mouth," he said, voice calm, yet undeniably dominant.
Blossom's jaw clenched.
The humiliation of it all burned through her chest. Was this another power play? Another way to remind her that she was at his mercy?
Her fingers curled into fists beneath the table.
"I can feed myself," she said sharply.
Adrien smirked. "Is that so?"
Before she could react, he tilted her chin up with the back of his fingers, forcing her gaze to meet his.
Blossom's breath caught in her throat.
His touch was barely there, but the way his thumb lingered sent her heart into a maddening rhythm. His golden eyes darkened, as if daring her to defy him.
"I don't like repeating myself," he murmured.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
A war raged inside her—pride versus survival.
Her pride told her to slap the fork away, to throw the entire plate at him if she had to.
But survival?
She was trapped in this mansion with no allies. Her family had sold her off like a bargaining chip. Celeste was a two-faced snake. The staff belonged to Adrien.
And Adrien?
He was not a man to be tested carelessly.
A slow, taunting smirk curved his lips as if he could read every battle waging inside her mind. Damn him.
Reluctantly, Blossom parted her lips, her face burning as he placed the bite of food into her mouth.
"Good girl," he murmured.
Something in her snapped.
Blossom shoved his hand away, the fork clattering against the porcelain plate.
"Don't test me, Adrien," she hissed, her amber eyes burning with fury. "I don't belong to you, and I never will."
Adrien leaned back, watching her calmly—too calmly.
Then, without a word, he reached for another piece of food, lifted the fork, and brought it to her lips once again.
Blossom gritted her teeth.
This bastard.
Her stomach twisted with emotions she didn't want to name, and her heart pounded so loudly she swore he could hear it.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to break something.
But most of all, she wanted to wipe that smug expression off his damn face.
And yet, as she stared into his unwavering golden eyes, something became painfully clear.
Adrien Lancaster was a storm she could not escape.
Not yet.
And that realization infuriated her the most.