Chapter 7 Something in the Air

The sun hung low like a lazy flame, spilling golden light through the French windows. Celene found herself standing on the balcony, overlooking a world too rich and quiet to be hers. Birds chirped. Wind teased the edges of her blouse. And for the first time in days, her pulse wasn't trying to break out of her chest.

But peace never lasted long around Adrian Cross.

The sound of footsteps broke her illusion. She didn't need to turn.

"You've been hiding," he said, his voice smoother than the breeze.

"I've been breathing," she replied. "Is that a crime in your world?"

Adrian stepped beside her, hands in his pockets. He wore a different kind of danger today-no jacket, sleeves rolled, the top two buttons undone. Effortless sin.

Celene hated that she noticed.

He leaned on the balcony, eyes scanning the horizon. "You don't like the quiet, do you?"

"It's not the quiet I hate," she said. "It's the waiting. You trap me here with half-truths and pretty rooms. And I wait. For what?"

Adrian's mouth curved faintly. "For me."

She scoffed. "Arrogant much?"

"Always."

He turned, suddenly too close. His scent was warm spice and expensive danger. Her body betrayed her-leaning in, lungs clinging to the air he breathed.

"I have a meeting tonight," he said softly. "You'll come."

"Excuse me?"

"It's formal. You'll need a dress."

"I'm not your doll, Adrian."

"No," he said. "You're something far more dangerous."

He left without further explanation, as usual.

That evening, a box waited on her bed. Velvet black, whispering elegance. Inside, a dress so slinky it might as well have been painted on. Beside it, red heels. Jewelry that glittered like promises.

She wore it. Because she hated losing. And maybe, just maybe, because some part of her wanted to be seen.

The car ride was silent. Adrian sat beside her, a statue of composure. But when their arms brushed, electricity snapped through her veins.

The venue was a luxury penthouse, filled with sharp suits and champagne. Whispers followed them. Celene walked like she belonged, even when she felt like a secret.

Introductions blurred. Adrian introduced her as "Celene," no title, no explanation. People smiled, nodded, and stared too long.

Near the bar, a woman in silver narrowed her eyes. "She's new," she said, loud enough.

Adrian glanced at her. "She's mine."

And just like that, the air changed.

Celene held her chin high. So this was war. High heels and hidden daggers.

She smiled. "Then I better start acting like it."