Page 20

Sophia

I stare at the ceiling, my phone's glow casting shadows across the expensive wallpaper. Another notification pings: another headline about Daniel. "Renowned Artist Accused of Plagiarism." The words blur together with all the others: fraud, misconduct, ethical violations.

The roses Adrian sent earlier today sit on my nightstand, their blood-red petals a reminder of his calculated affection. Their perfume fills the air, sweet and suffocating.

Three days. That's all it took for Daniel's life to implode. His gallery showing canceled. His commissions withdrawn. His reputation shredded. I watched it happen in real-time.

The memory of my own downfall is still fresh: the canceled commission, the smear campaign, the eviction notice. All orchestrated by the man who now claims to be in partnership with me.

I push myself up from the bed, unable to lie still with these thoughts churning. The plush carpet absorbs the sound of my feet as I pace. Back and forth. Back and forth, from window to door.

"God, I was stupid," I whisper to myself. I actually thought I could outmaneuver him, Adrian Vale, the man who built an empire on knowing everyone's secrets. Who can destroy lives on a whim. Who watched me for two years before making his move.

I pause at the window, pressing my forehead against the glass. Forty stories below, the city sparkles like scattered diamonds. From up here, everything looks small, controllable. Is this how Adrian sees the world? Like a game board where he can move pieces at will?

The roses catch my eye again. He brought them himself, handed them to me with that slight smile. "To brighten your day," he'd said, as if I couldn't see the headlines exploding across my phone. As if he didn't know exactly what message he was sending.

My reflection stares back at me from the window—wide-eyed, pale, trapped. I thought I was being clever, meeting Daniel in secret. But Adrian's retaliation wasn't just swift. It was surgical. A demonstration of what happens to anyone who dares interfere with his plans.

The truth stabs into me: I never had a chance at outsmarting him. Every move I made, every secret plan, every attempted rebellion, he was always three steps ahead, watching, waiting, calculating.

Suddenly, I'm storming out of my room, rage burning through my veins. Adrian sits in his leather armchair, a book open in his lap. The sight of him—so composed, so untouchable—makes my blood boil.

"What did you do to Daniel?"

Adrian looks up from his book, his face a mask of indifference. "Good evening to you too, Sophia."

"Don't." I step closer, fists clenched. "I know it was you. All of it."

He closes his book with deliberate slowness. "If you have something to say, say it."

"The accusations? The canceled shows? His entire career falling apart in three days?" Each question comes out sharper than the last. "That's your handiwork, isn't it?"

"He chose to interfere in matters that don't concern him."

"Don't concern him?" I laugh, the sound harsh and bitter. "You've been watching me for two years. You manipulated my life, drove me into bankruptcy, and now you're destroying anyone who tries to help me. How is that not his concern?"

Irritation washes over his face. "How many times do I have to tell you? I do this all for you."

"For me?" My voice rises. "You stalked me! You have an entire room dedicated to monitoring my every move. My social media, my location, my private photos—"

"Which your ex-boyfriend took without your consent," he cuts in, standing up. "Photos he kept despite your requests to delete them. Tell me, Sophia, did Daniel mention that part when he was warning you about me?"

The question catches me off guard. "That's not—"

"Not the point?" Adrian steps closer. "The point is that I ensure your safety. I remove threats to your well-being."

"By becoming the biggest threat yourself?" I meet his eyes. "You're not protecting me, Adrian. You're controlling me."

"And what would you have me do instead?" His composure cracks slightly. "Stand back and watch while others take advantage of you? While they steal your work, damage your reputation, exploit your talent?"

"That's not your decision to make! It's my life, my career—"

"Your career?" His laugh is cold. "The career you were barely sustaining? Living paycheck to paycheck, accepting scraps from galleries that undervalued your work?"

"At least it was mine! At least I earned it honestly!"

"Honestly." Adrian's eyes flash. "Was it honest to meet Daniel behind my back?"

I step closer, refusing to back down. "Why are you doing this? What could possibly justify destroying people's lives just to keep me here?"

Adrian's expression shifts. The cold mask slips, revealing a flash of pain that stops me short.

"Why?" he barks, clearly wrestling with himself. He turns away, running a hand through his hair. I wait for him to speak, biting my cheek hard to stop myself from prodding him.

"Elliot," he eventually says quietly. "My brother. I didn't tell you everything about him. He raised me after our parents died. Taught me everything I know about business, about technology. About trust ." He has difficulty saying that last word.

I watch him, thrown by this sudden vulnerability. I'm barely breathing. I remember when he first told me about Elliot when we were on the rooftop. I hadn't thought to ask him about it again, so I can't believe he's plunging into this now.

"We built our first company together. An AI startup focused on ethical technology, on making the world better." Adrian's shoulders tense. "We were on the verge of something revolutionary. And then he sold us out. Sold our technology to people who used it to violate privacy, to hurt others. He took everything we built together and destroyed it for profit."

"Adrian—"

"He disappeared afterward. Left me to deal with the fallout, the legal battles, the public outrage. His voice grows tight with suppressed emotion as he continues. "After Elliot's betrayal, everything fell apart. The media had a field day with the scandal. We went from being the golden boys of tech to public enemies overnight. Investors pulled out. Lawsuits came flooding in. Every day was a new battle to keep the company afloat, to salvage any part of what we built."

Adrian's eyes flicker with a haunted look, as if he's seeing those days unfold again before him. "The legal battles drained us, financially and emotionally. We were scrutinized, vilified. Our friends, our allies—people we thought we could trust—they all turned their backs on us. On me."

I stay silent, my anger momentarily quelled. This is a side of Adrian I've never seen, a vulnerability he's never shown.

"The worst part," he says, voice barely above a whisper, "was the loss of faith in human connection. How do you trust anyone after that? How do you let anyone get close when you know they can betray you in an instant?"

He turns to face me, his expression a mixture of pain and resolve. "That's why I am the way I am, Sophia. That's why I need control. It's not just about protecting you—it's about protecting myself from ever feeling that kind of betrayal again."

For the first time since all this began, I see the man behind the mask—the boy who lost everything because he trusted too much.

"I don't expect you to understand," he continues. "But I need you to know that everything I've done has been to keep us both safe."

His confession lingers between us, the pain in his eyes echoing my own. For a moment, our differences blur. Our fears, our traumas, our shared sense of betrayal and loss, bind us together in a way I hadn't anticipated.

I take a step closer, my anger replaced by a profound empathy.

"Adrian," I start softly, "I know what it's like to lose trust in people. To be let down by those you thought would never hurt you. "Daniel..." I pause. "He used to tell me my art was too raw, too honest. He'd suggest changes that made my work more commercial, more like his. Then he'd take credit for my growth when pieces sold." I wrap my arms around myself, the memories flooding back. "The photos were just the final betrayal. He promised he deleted them, swore up and down."

Adrian's eyes darken at my words, and I see a flash of understanding pass between us. Two people scarred by those we trusted most. The weight of his confession about Elliot sits heavy in my chest, mirroring my own wounds.

"Trust..." I whisper. "It's funny how the people closest to us know exactly where to plant the knife. But we can't let those experiences define us," I tell him gently. "We can't close ourselves off from the world out of fear of getting hurt again."

I fear I've pushed too far. But then he sighs, the sound almost lost.

"You're right," he admits in a whisper. His admission sends a thrill through me—it's as if an invisible wall between us has started to crumble.

I move closer still until there's barely any space left between us.

"Adrian," I murmur, looking up at him through my lashes, "Maybe it's time to let someone in again."

When I look into Adrian's eyes, I see a depth of yearning that surprises me. It's as if he's standing at the edge of a precipice, wanting to let me in but afraid to take that final step. The vulnerability I witnessed earlier remains, a chink in his armor.

My heart aches for him, for the wounds he's carried for so long. Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Impulsively, I throw my arms around him, pulling him into a fierce embrace.

He stands rigid, his body unyielding. Then, slowly, his arms wrap around me, returning the hug. I breathe in his scent, feeling the solid warmth of him against me. Between us passes unspoken emotions—desire, forgiveness, and the acknowledgment of our shared pain.

As we pull apart, I see desire burning in his eyes, but he makes no move to act on it. He's holding back, giving me control.

I fall slowly to my knees before him, determined to heal the wounds that words alone cannot. With gentle fingers, I start to unbutton his pants, my eyes never leaving his.

"Let me show you," I whisper, "that you can trust again."

I take Adrian's length in my hand, feeling its weight, its power. My eyes hold his as I slowly wrap my lips around the head, tasting him, savoring him. Each stroke of my tongue, each swirl, is a tribute to our growing intimacy, a silent promise that I'm all in.

His fingers tangle in my hair as I take him deeper, guiding me, encouraging me. I moan softly around him, the vibrations making him shudder. I love the way he feels, the way he responds to my touch.

"Am I forgiven?" he whispers hoarsely.

I don't answer. Instead, I suck him harder, faster, wanting to show him how much I understand, how far I'm willing to go for him. My mouth works him passionately, desperately, as if I can't get enough.

I can hear the shuddering breaths he takes, feel his fingers tightening in my hair. "God, Sophia," he groans, his hips thrusting now, matching my rhythm. "That mouth..."

His words spur me on, and I suck him eagerly, wanting to give him more, to erase the pain from his eyes, to replace it with all-consuming desire.

Desire for me.

I feel Adrian's length twitch in my mouth as I work him with my hands and tongue. I know he's close, so I tease him, drawing it out, wanting to give to him as much as he's given me.

But just as I sense he's about to bust, he pulls out of my mouth, leaving me wanting more. He pushes me down onto the soft rug, positioning me on all fours. My heart pounds as he stands behind me.

I feel his hands on my hips, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my leggings. With a swift motion, he pulls them down. I can feel his eyes on me, taking in the sight of my exposed body.

His fingers trace the curve of my waist, sending shivers down my spine. Then, he inhales deeply, his breath warm against my skin.

"Your scent is intoxicating," he murmurs.

I bite my lip as he places soft kisses along my spine. His hands roam freely now, exploring, possessing.

Then, he shifts lower, and I feel his tongue trace a path upward from my ankles, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. My breath catches as he reaches the back of my thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin there. His tongue continues its journey, higher and higher, until—

Oh God.

His mouth finds my wetness, and he laps at me eagerly, as if he's been starving. His tongue teases my clit, circles it, sends sparks of pleasure shooting through me. I moan, the sound filling the room. My hips buck against his face, seeking more pressure, more of that delicious friction.

Adrian's tongue dances over my hot spots, knowing exactly what I need. He teases and tastes, his groans of pleasure vibrating against me.

"You like that, baby?" he murmurs, his breath hot against my swollen flesh. "Let me hear you."

I can't hold back. My moans ring out, mixing with his grunts of approval. My hips move in rhythm with his tongue, our bodies speaking a language of their own.

His fingers join in, probing, entering me, driving me wild. I'm lost in a haze of sensation, my skin on fire, my body alive with need. Adrian's tongue and fingers work in tandem, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I'm so close, teetering on the brink, my entire body trembling.

Suddenly, Adrian pulls away. I whimper at the loss, my body craving more. But then I feel him position himself at my entrance, and I know he's about to give it all back to me.

"I forgive you, too," he whispers.

In one quick thrust, he fills me, his length driving into me from behind. I cry out, the sensation overwhelming. Our bodies move with a frenzied rhythm that matches the beat of our hearts.

Adrian's hands grip my hips, guiding me, moving me exactly how he wants. I surrender to him, my body his to command. Each stroke sends sparks of pleasure through me, igniting every nerve ending.

"You feel so good," he grunts. "So fucking tight around me."

His words spur me on, and I push back against him, meeting his thrusts with my own. Our bodies create a symphony of flesh, a dance of passion and forgiveness.

The tension builds, coiling within me like a spring ready to snap. I'm so close, hovering on the edge of release, when Adrian's thrusts become more frantic.

"I can't hold back," he grunts, his body tensing. "I need to feel you come around me."

His words send me over the edge. My body jerks, my pussy squeezing as I come. Adrian follows, his release exploding within me. We cry out in unison, our voices mingling in a symphony of ecstasy.

For a moment, we stay connected, our bodies still joined, our hearts pounding hard. I feel his breath on my neck as he drops down to press his chest to my back, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

Again, I'm left with the feeling that something has changed between us. He presses little kisses to my back, his arms only circling tighter, and as I catch my breath, I feel it deep inside me, a hard little nub of resolve crystallizing. The truth that I won't dare speak is the only thing spoiling this moment.

He might forgive me, but I don't forgive him.