Chapter 8 The Past

Adriana's POV

I had hoped, for just one night, to escape from it all-the tension with Ivan, the constant feeling of being trapped in a world I didn't choose. I wanted to forget the lies, the betrayal, and the dark shadows that seemed to cling to me no matter how hard I tried to outrun them.

But nothing ever went as planned, did it?

As I stood at the edge of the room, nursing a glass of champagne that I barely touched, I felt his presence before I saw him. Antonio.

The way he stood, tall and confident, his dark eyes scanning the room, made me tense. I should've known he'd show up here. The charity event was the perfect place for someone like him-always in the public eye, always circling around the influential, the powerful. He moved toward me like a predator closing in on its prey, the same self-assuredness that had once drawn me to him now grating on my nerves.

His lips curled into a smile as he approached, a smile that could once melt me, but now just seemed like another lie. "Adriana," he said, his voice smooth, like he was picking up a conversation from where we'd left off, as if time hadn't passed, as if we weren't standing on opposite sides of a chasm that had once seemed impossible to cross.

I forced a tight smile. "Antonio."

"Beautiful as always," he said, his eyes lingering a moment too long on my dress, my face-his gaze crawling beneath my skin, making my skin crawl in turn. "Though I have to say, you've certainly... upgraded."

"Nothing's changed." My words were colder than I intended, but I didn't care. He wasn't here to compliment me. He wasn't here to be anything but a reminder of a past I wanted to forget.

Antonio chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sure it feels that way. But I'm not here to talk about that."

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "I didn't think you'd be so eager to join the Petrov family. Especially not after everything they did."

My stomach dropped. The Petrov name had become synonymous with everything I hated, everything that had ruined my life. Ivan's father, the man who had made our lives a living nightmare. I couldn't stop the cold, sick feeling that washed over me at the mention of his name.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.

He looked around, ensuring no one else was listening, then leaned in closer. "You really think Ivan's marriage to you is about love? It's not. It's all part of the bigger picture. His father-he's the one who had your mother killed. Don't you see? It's all connected. You've been used, Adriana. Just like I warned you before."

My blood ran cold, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. The room around me seemed to spin, the elegant decorations, the laughter, the chatter-all of it fading into a distant blur.

"What?" My voice was barely a whisper, a tremor running through it. "What are you talking about? You're lying."

He shook his head, a trace of pity in his eyes. "I wish I was. But you know as well as I do that it doesn't add up. Your mother's death wasn't an accident. It wasn't random. It was a plan. And the Petrov family has been pulling strings for years. Ivan's father was the mastermind behind it all, Adriana. He used you, he used your mother, and now you're nothing more than a pawn in his game."

I wanted to scream, to lash out at him, but the words caught in my throat. My mother. My beautiful, kind-hearted mother. She had been taken from me-ripped away in the most horrific way-and now, Antonio was telling me that the man I had married, the man I had come to loathe, was somehow connected to it? The very thought made my chest tighten with rage and disbelief.

"You're lying," I said again, though it sounded weaker this time, like I was trying to convince myself. "You have no proof."

His smile faltered for a second, but he quickly recovered. "You'll find out the truth, one way or another. You'll see the connections. Just watch closely. Your mother's death-it's all tied to Ivan's family. You've been a pawn in their game since the beginning."

I shook my head, the anger bubbling up now, hot and uncontrollable. "You think I'm going to believe you? After everything? After everything you did to me? You're just trying to manipulate me, Antonio. Nothing more."

He sighed, his expression turning more serious. "I'm not trying to manipulate you, Adriana. I'm trying to save you from making the same mistake I made. Don't let Ivan pull you deeper into this web. You don't know who you're dealing with."

The tension in my chest was almost unbearable, the words he had spoken sinking into my bones like poison. Could it really be true? Was Ivan's father somehow involved in my mother's death? I didn't know what to believe anymore.

But before I could respond, Antonio's hand brushed against mine, just barely, but enough to send a jolt of heat through my body. I recoiled instinctively, pulling my hand away as though his touch burned.

"Think about it, Adriana," he said softly, his voice low. "You don't have to stay in this. You don't have to let them control you. You can walk away from it all. From Ivan. From the Petrov family. You're still in control of your life."

I wanted to slap him, to push him away and tell him to never speak to me again. But something in his eyes, the sincerity mixed with a strange desperation, made me hesitate.

"I'll find out the truth, Antonio," I said, my voice fierce. "But I won't do it your way. And I won't let you use me again. You've already done enough damage."

He smirked, but it was a hollow, resigned expression. "I know. But just remember this: sometimes the truth is harder to face than the lies we tell ourselves."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, feeling more lost than ever.

The weight of his words pressed down on me like a heavy stone. Could it really be true? Was Ivan's father responsible for my mother's death? The thought was like a knife twisting in my gut.

But I had promised myself I wouldn't let anyone control me. Not Ivan. Not Antonio. Not anyone.

I would find the truth, and I would face it. No matter how much it hurt.

As I turned to leave the ballroom, I caught sight of Ivan standing at the edge of the crowd, his eyes locked on me. His gaze was intense, almost knowing. And for a moment, it felt like he could see straight through me.

I didn't know what to make of it, but one thing was clear: the war between us wasn't over. And the truth, whatever it was, was going to tear us apart.