The evening air was thick with the scent of polished marble, expensive cologne, and the subtle hum of power. The Grand Imperial Hotel gleamed like a palace carved into the heart of the city. A red carpet stretched across its entrance, and camera flashes sparked as guests in designer gowns and tailored suits stepped out of sleek black cars.
Elena sat stiffly in the back of Adrian's limousine, her hands folded tight in her lap. She had chosen a gown from the options his assistant delivered earlier that day—a deep emerald silk that hugged her figure with quiet defiance. It wasn't the kind of dress she would have chosen herself, but she wasn't about to let Adrian dictate everything about her tonight.
The man beside her, however, looked carved from stone. Adrian wore a classic black tuxedo, every line perfect, his presence commanding without effort. His cufflinks glinted under the dim light of the car. His silence was heavier than the city skyline outside.
When the car rolled to a stop, Adrian glanced at her. "You know what's expected of you."
Elena met his gaze, her chin lifting. "Stand there, smile, and play the role of the obedient companion?"
For a moment, his jaw tightened. Then, almost mockingly, he offered his arm. "Something like that."
She didn't want to take it. But she knew appearances mattered. So she slipped her hand onto his arm, her fingers barely brushing his sleeve. The heat of him was infuriating.
---
Inside the ballroom, chandeliers spilled golden light across the room, glittering over crystal glasses and polished silver trays. A live orchestra played something elegant and calculated, the kind of music meant to impress rather than move.
The crowd shifted almost immediately when Adrian entered. Heads turned. Murmurs sparked. He was a name that carried weight, and every step he took demanded attention.
Elena felt the pressure of dozens of eyes on her as they crossed the room together. She hated it—the judgment, the silent questions, the envy. She wasn't here for these people. She was here because Adrian had forced her into this role.
"Adrian," a voice called, smooth and sharp.
A tall man approached, his smile practiced, his eyes predatory. He extended his hand. "Nathaniel Cross. Always a pleasure."
Adrian's handshake was firm, his expression unreadable. "Nathaniel."
Nathaniel's gaze flicked to Elena, his smile widening. "And who is this stunning addition to your entourage?"
Before Elena could speak, Adrian's arm tightened fractionally under her hand. "Elena Carter. My associate."
Elena forced a polite smile, though irritation burned under her skin. Associate. Not companion, not date. Just another pawn in his empire.
Nathaniel kissed her hand lightly, his eyes gleaming with something more than charm. "Blackwood always did have impeccable taste."
Adrian's jaw tensed, but he said nothing.
---
The evening blurred with introductions. Politicians in designer suits, investors with too much wealth and too little morality, women who eyed Adrian with envy and Elena with disdain.
She smiled when she had to, spoke when prompted, but her mind was sharp, absorbing every glance, every whispered comment. This wasn't just a party—it was a battlefield dressed in silk and champagne.
At one point, Adrian leaned down, his lips close enough to brush her ear. "Stay close. The sharks circle faster when they smell weakness."
Her spine stiffened. "I'm not your weakness."
He looked at her then, something dark flickering in his gaze. "That remains to be seen."
---
Halfway through the night, Adrian was pulled into a cluster of conversations with a senator and two CEOs. Elena stood beside him, glass in hand, her smile fixed like armor.
But then, across the room, she spotted someone who froze her in place.
A man. Mid-forties. Dark hair peppered with gray. His suit was expensive, his posture proud.
Her breath hitched. She knew that face.
Richard Hale.
The same man who had testified against her father years ago, sealing his downfall and their family's ruin.
Her fingers tightened around her glass until she thought it might shatter.
She didn't hear the senator's question, didn't notice Adrian glance at her until his hand closed firmly around hers, grounding her.
"Elena," he said quietly, his tone low enough that only she could hear. "Stay composed."
Her eyes snapped to his. "Do you know who that is?"
"I know exactly who he is," Adrian replied. His voice was calm, but there was steel in it. "And that's why you're here tonight."
Her heart pounded. "You brought me here to face him?"
Adrian's lips curved, not quite a smile. "Consider it another test."
Before she could argue, Richard Hale himself approached.
"Blackwood," Richard greeted, his voice confident, his handshake solid. "Good to see you here."
Adrian's eyes flicked to Elena. "Richard, meet Elena Carter. My… partner this evening."
Richard's polite smile froze. His gaze lingered on her surname, recognition flashing in his eyes. "Carter?"
Elena's stomach twisted, but she lifted her chin. "Yes. Carter."
The tension was sharp enough to cut through the music and laughter around them.
For a moment, Richard said nothing. Then his smile returned, thinner this time. "How interesting."
Adrian didn't release Elena's hand. His grip was firm, steady, protective in a way that infuriated her even more.
As Richard excused himself to mingle with another group, Elena turned on Adrian, her voice tight. "You used me."
Adrian's gaze held hers, unflinching. "No. I positioned you."
"I'm not a chess piece in your games," she hissed.
"Everyone in this room is a chess piece," he replied evenly. "The only difference is whether you move… or get moved."
Her chest ached with anger. She wanted to walk out, to tear off the contract she had signed and be done with all of it. But she couldn't—not yet.
Because Richard Hale's face was burned into her memory, and for the first time in years, she felt the pull of vengeance stronger than fear.
---
Later, as the night wound down and guests began to leave, Adrian and Elena stood near the balcony overlooking the city.
"You did well tonight," he said quietly.
She gave him a sharp look. "Don't patronize me."
"I'm not." His gaze was steady. "You held your ground. You didn't falter. That's what matters."
She turned away, staring at the glittering skyline. "And what happens when I stop playing along with your power games?"
Adrian stepped closer, his voice firm. "Then you lose. And I don't protect losers."
Elena's breath caught. She spun to face him, fury sparking in her chest. "I don't need your protection."
His eyes darkened, his jaw set. "Then prove it."
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The tension between them was thick, electric.
And then, from behind them, a voice interrupted.
"Miss Carter?"
Elena turned to see a woman in a silver gown, her expression polite but her eyes sharp. She extended a business card. "We should talk. I think we have mutual interests."
Elena glanced at the card. The name read: Victoria Hale.
Her pulse spiked. Another Hale. Another tie to the man who had destroyed her father.
When she looked back, Adrian was already watching her closely, his eyes narrowing as if he knew exactly what storm had just been unleashed.