Chapter 4

The car ride that night left a filthy brand, searing every passing minute that followed. When the summons to the Hamptons arrived-or rather, the command-Adelia knew she wasn't even granted the right to hide away and lick her wounds. The Hamptons weekend arrived with a deceptive tranquility. The ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and blooming hydrangeas, and the McMahon estate was buzzing with activity. White tents dotted the manicured lawn, and waiters in crisp uniforms wove through the crowd with silver trays.

Adelia stepped out of the black town car, her knees unsteady. The driver had been insistent-Kain's orders-and she hadn't had the strength to argue. She wore a simple gray dress, the neckline high, the hemline long. She wanted to disappear.

The butler led her across the stone patio toward the lawn. As she stepped onto the grass, the conversation seemed to ripple and then still. Heads turned. Eyes followed her.

She kept her gaze down, focusing on the perfectly manicured grass beneath her feet.

Baylee Lawrence stood at the center of a cluster of socialites, her arm looped through Kain's. She was stunning in a flowing white sundress, her engagement ring catching the afternoon sun like a beacon.

When she saw Adelia, Baylee's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Then it widened, becoming even more brilliant, even more perfect.

"Adelia!" Baylee called out, her voice dripping with synthetic warmth. She detached herself from Kain and glided across the lawn. "Darling, I'm so glad you could make it. You've been hiding away for too long."

Adelia forced her lips into a stiff line. "Thank you for having me."

"It must be so hard for you," Baylee said, reaching out to pat Adelia's arm. Her touch was light, but her eyes were sharp. "Being a widow and all. You really should get out more. It's not healthy to mope."

Adelia's stomach churned. She wanted to slap the perfect smile right off the other woman's face. Instead, she took a slow breath. "I'll keep that in mind."

Kain stood a few feet away, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He watched the exchange with a blank expression, offering no help, no defense. But Adelia could feel his gaze on her, a physical weight that pressed against her skin, hot and demanding.

Dinner was announced, and the guests moved toward the long tables set up under the tents. Adelia found her place card at the far end of the table, as far from the head as possible. She was exiled to the Siberia of the McMahon social hierarchy.

Baylee took her seat at Kain's right hand. She leaned in close, whispering something in his ear, her fingers brushing his shoulder as she poured him more wine.

Adelia picked up her knife and fork. She cut into her steak, the motion mechanical. She didn't taste the food. It was like eating cardboard. Her stomach was in knots, a tight ball of anxiety that made it hard to swallow.

At the head of the table, the family elders began to question Baylee about the wedding plans. Baylee lapped up the attention, detailing the venue, the florist, the guest list. Every few minutes, she would glance down the table at Adelia, a small, satisfied smirk playing on her lips.

A sharp pain lanced through Adelia's abdomen. She dropped her knife and fork, the silverware clattering against the porcelain.

"Excuse me," she murmured, pushing her chair back. She didn't wait for a response. She hurried away from the table, her heels clicking on the stone pathway.

She found the bathroom inside the house and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror-pale, drawn, exhausted. She looked like a ghost.

She took a deep breath and stepped back into the hallway. She collided with a solid chest.

"Whoa, there," a male voice said. It was one of the distant McMahon cousins, a man with a leer that made her skin crawl. "Running away, little widow? Jealous of the new queen bee?"

Adelia stepped back, her eyes flashing. "Excuse me."

She tried to walk around him, but he shifted his weight, blocking her path. "Come on, don't be like that. I could show you a good time. Take your mind off things."

"Back off," she said, her voice cold. She pushed past him, her shoulder knocking his as she strode down the hall.

She was halfway to the door when a hand shot out, grabbing her arm. She was yanked sideways, pulled through a doorway into a dimly lit parlor.

The door slammed shut behind her. Kain stood between her and the exit, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing.

"Were you just flirting with him?" he demanded, his voice a low growl.

Adelia stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious? He cornered me."

Kain closed the distance between them in two strides. He backed her up against the wall, his hand reaching up to grip the back of her neck. His fingers dug into her skin, holding her in place.

"I told you," he said, his face inches from hers, "not to draw attention to yourself."

His eyes were wild, a dark, possessive fire burning in their depths. He looked like a man who had been pushed to the edge.

"Kain-" she started.

"Shut up," he snapped. "You are mine. You don't talk to them. You don't look at them."

From the hallway, Baylee's voice drifted through the closed door. "Kain? Are you in here? The guests are asking for you."

Kain's grip on her neck tightened for a second. Then, just as quickly, he released her. He stepped back, his expression smoothing over, the mask of the civilized heir sliding back into place.

He adjusted his collar, shot her one last warning glare, and opened the door.

"Right here," he said to Baylee, his voice perfectly calm. "Just checking on a draft."

He walked out, leaving Adelia alone in the dark room. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath.

She was trapped. And the storm was only getting started.