2025-01-23 22:39:55The grand ballroom of the Carlton Hotel was an opulent display of wealth and influence. Glittering chandeliers illuminated the sea of designer gowns and tailored suits. Emma stood at Victor’s side, her smile carefully crafted, though her nerves threatened to unravel with every passing moment. Victor’s grip on her waist was firm, a reminder that she was under his control.
“Smile, Emma,” Victor whispered, leaning close. His voice was low, but the menace in his tone was unmistakable. “We wouldn’t want our guests to think there’s trouble in paradise, would we?” Her lips curved upward, but it felt more like a grimace. As the music swelled and laughter echoed around the room, Emma’s eyes scanned the crowd, hoping for an escape. She spotted a tray of champagne glasses and reached for one, eager for a moment to steady herself. Before she could take a sip, the room fell into a hush. All eyes turned to the entrance as Adrian Vale strode in, exuding confidence and power. His tailored black suit fit him like a second skin, and his piercing gaze swept the room with purpose. Victor’s hand tensed on Emma’s waist. “What the hell is he doing here?” he hissed under his breath. Emma’s heart raced as Adrian’s eyes locked on hers. He was a storm personified, his presence commanding and unyielding. Ignoring Victor’s glare, Adrian made his way across the room, drawing murmurs from the crowd. “Victor,” Adrian said smoothly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you here tonight. Then again, I suppose you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to flaunt your... success.” Victor’s jaw tightened, but he forced a smile. “Adrian. Always a pleasure to see you. Though I wasn’t aware you were on the guest list.” Adrian smirked. “I don’t need an invitation to make an impression.” The two men stared each other down, the unspoken animosity between them palpable. Emma felt trapped between them, her pulse quickening as the air grew heavier. “I see you’ve been keeping busy,” Adrian said, his gaze flicking pointedly to Emma. “Engaged, are we? Congratulations.” Emma’s throat tightened. She wanted to speak, to defend herself, but the weight of Victor’s presence kept her silent. “Why, thank you,” Victor said, his voice dripping with false charm. “Emma and I are quite happy. Aren’t we, darling?” Emma nodded mechanically. “Yes, of course.” Adrian’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, Emma thought she saw a flicker of pain beneath his cold exterior. Victor’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “If you’ll excuse us, Adrian, Emma, and I have guests to entertain.” Adrian didn’t move. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Victor’s. “Funny thing about guests—they’re usually more interested in the truth than the facade.” Victor’s mask slipped for a fraction of a second, his eyes narrowing. “Careful, Adrian. You’re treading on dangerous ground.” Adrian’s smirk deepened. “I live for danger.” The tension was unbearable. Emma’s hands trembled as she clutched her champagne flute, the bubbling liquid threatening to spill over. Without thinking, she turned and walked toward the balcony, desperate for air. The cool night breeze greeted her as she stepped outside. She leaned against the railing, her chest rising and falling as she tried to calm herself. The city lights stretched out before her, a stark contrast to the suffocating ballroom behind her. “Running away again, Emma?” She whirled around to see Adrian standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with intensity. “I’m not running,” she said, her voice shaky. “I just needed some air.” He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You always were good at avoiding the truth.” Her defenses shot up. “And you were always good at making assumptions.” Adrian pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to her. “Explain this.” Emma hesitated, her eyes darting to the paper. Slowly, she took it from him and unfolded it. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized her own handwriting. “These are my letters,” she whispered. “Yes,” Adrian said, his voice tight. “The ones you supposedly never wrote. The ones Victor conveniently intercepted. Care to explain why?” Tears stung her eyes as she clutched the paper. “I didn’t know... I thought you...” She looked up at him, her voice breaking. “He told me you left. That you didn’t want me anymore.” Adrian’s jaw clenched. “And you believed him?” “I didn’t have a choice!” she cried. “He had control over everything—my job, my family. I tried to reach out, but he always found a way to stop me.” Adrian took a step back, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief. “You let him control you. You let him win.” Emma shook her head. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be trapped. To have no way out.” Before Adrian could respond, the sound of footsteps interrupted them. They both turned to see Victor standing in the doorway, his face a mask of barely contained fury. “Am I interrupting something?” Victor asked, his voice deceptively calm. “Not at all,” Adrian said, his tone sharp. “Just having a chat with your fiancée.” Victor’s eyes flicked to Emma, his gaze cold and calculating. “Emma, why don’t you go inside? I need a word with Adrian.” Emma hesitated, glancing between the two men. “Go,” Victor said, his voice leaving no room for argument. With a trembling breath, Emma stepped past Victor and disappeared into the ballroom. Victor turned back to Adrian, his smile razor-sharp. “You’ve overstayed your welcome.” Adrian didn’t flinch. “Funny, I was about to say the same to you.” Victor stepped closer, his voice low and menacing. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but if you think you can waltz back into my world and take what’s mine, you’re sorely mistaken.” Adrian’s smirk returned. “We’ll see about that.” Victor’s eyes glinted with danger. “Stay out of things that don’t concern you, Adrian. This is your final warning.” Without waiting for a response, Victor turned and walked back inside, leaving Adrian alone on the balcony. The night was still, but the storm brewing within Adrian was anything but. He clenched his fists, his mind racing with everything he’d uncovered. The letters, Emma’s tears, Victor’s threats—it was all too much. Meanwhile, inside the ballroom, Emma felt the weight of Victor’s presence as he whispered in her ear, his voice a venomous hiss. “If I find out you’ve betrayed me,” he said, his breath hot against her skin, “you’ll regret it.”
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