Adrian shoved his hands against my shoulders, tearing his mouth away from mine.

"Stop." His chest rose and fell against mine, his voice rough as gravel. "You’re marrying my brother in twelve hours."

"I know," I breathed.

Before he could pull back further, I surged forward, looping my fingers through his hair and dragging his mouth down hard against mine again.

He stiffened for a second. Then his restraint snapped.

His hand clamped around the back of my neck, fingers gripping tightly, hauling me across the console until I was half in his lap. He bit my lower lip until I tasted iron, kissing me with a harsh, bruising hunger that made my head spin.

"Fuck it," Adrian growled against my lips.

He didn't drive me back to my father’s estate.

Twenty minutes later, the private elevator opened directly into his high-rise penthouse. The city glittered below through floor-to-ceiling glass, cold and indifferent.

Adrian didn't turn on a single light.

He kicked the front door shut, grabbed both my wrists, and pinned them flat against the wall above my head. His dark coat hit the floor.

"Look at me, Clara," he ordered, his breath warm against my cheek.

I tilted my chin up, meeting his stormy gray eyes in the shadows. "Do you think I'm going to look away?"

"You still have time to turn around," he warned, his voice low, his fingers digging into my skin. "Walk out that door, go home, and be Nolan’s proper little bride."

"I don't want to be anyone's proper anything," I countered. "Take my clothes off, Adrian."

A harsh laugh scraped his throat. "Don't tempt me with things you can't handle."

"Try me."

Adrian didn't wait. He ripped my blouse down the center, buttons skittering across the hardwood like hail. He jerked my skirt down, tearing the delicate silk of my underwear aside until I stood bare against the freezing plaster.

His hands were rough and calloused as he lifted my thighs, locking my legs around his waist.

"Adrian," I gasped.

He unzipped his slacks with one hand, kicking them free, and shoved inside me in one violent thrust.

I cried out, digging my fingernails into his muscular back. He filled me completely, stretching me open with an intensity that burned white-hot.

"You feel that?" Adrian hissed, his forehead pressed against mine, his thrusts deep and unrelenting against the wall. "Say my fucking name, Clara."

"Adrian..."

"Again." He pounded into me, faster, harder, lifting me completely off the floor.

"Adrian! Fuck..."

His mouth crushed mine, swallowing my moans while his cock drove deep into my cunt. Every slam of his hips vibrated through my spine, rattling the picture frames on the wall. I tightened around him, drowning in the raw friction, desperate to burn away the memory of Nolan’s smirk and my father’s hand.

He carried me toward the bedroom without pulling out, tossing me onto the king-sized mattress and following me down. He pinned my knees to my chest, pounding into my wet cunt until the bed frame groaned against the wall.

"Look at me," he grunted, sweat dripping from his jaw onto my collarbone. "Who’s fucking you right now?"

"You," I sobbed, claws raking his shoulders. "You are."

"Don't you ever forget it."

He drove into me until my body shattered, waves of spasms clamping down around his cock. With a harsh groan, Adrian thrust one last time, buried to the hilt, spilling his hot come deep inside me.

He collapsed beside me, his heavy arm thrown across my waist.

Neither of us said a word.

***

Pale morning light spilled across the hardwood floor when I opened my eyes.

The alarm on my phone didn't ring—I had left it miles away in the study. But the clock on the nightstand read 7:15 AM.

In less than five hours, hundreds of guests would fill the cathedral for my wedding.

Adrian was already out of bed, wearing only a pair of dark gray sweatpants low on his hips. He leaned against the balcony door frame, holding a steaming mug of black coffee, watching me quietly.

"You’re awake," he said.

I sat up, pulling the thick duvet to my chin. My muscles ached, and my skin felt raw and marked by red bruises.

"I am," I said, clearing my dry throat.

Adrian took a sip of his coffee. His gaze was sharp, dissecting me under the gray morning sun.

"Why me, Clara?"

I blinked, avoiding his stare. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb," he said, stepping away from the glass. His voice was quiet, dangerously steady. "You ran out into the night to ruin yourself. You could have picked anyone. You could have walked into a dive bar and found ten guys willing to take you home. Why did you kiss me?"

I looked toward the scattered remains of my torn clothes on the rug, forcing a careless half-smile onto my face.

"Does it need to be deep, Adrian?" I asked lightly.

He set his mug down on the dresser with a sharp *clack*. "Answer the question."

I shrugged, letting the duvet slide slightly. "Nolan spent last night with his tongue down another woman's throat. He told me to my face that he’d keep fucking her after we’re married. He thinks he can treat me like garbage and I'll just sit pretty."

Adrian took another step closer. "And?"

"And I don't like losing," I said, looking right into his gray eyes. "He fucked his girl. I fucked his older brother. Now we're even. It's just a fair trade."

The room went dead silent.

Adrian didn't shout. He didn't sneer. But the temperature in the bedroom dropped instantly. The warmth that had lingered in his eyes vanished, replaced by an icy, piercing fury.

He walked over to the edge of the bed and leaned down, placing both palms flat on the mattress on either side of my hips, trapping me between his arms.

"A fair trade?" he whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.

I held my chin high, refusing to flinch. "Yes."

"So when I had you pinned against the wall..." Adrian leaned in until his lips were inches from my ear, every word cutting like a blade. "...when you were screaming and begging me to go deeper, you weren't feeling me at all."

My heart hammered against my ribs, a sudden lump lodging in my throat.

"You were thinking about him," he snarled.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. The cruelty in my own lie choked me.

Adrian pulled back, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle twitched. He looked down at me not with passion, but with utter disgust.

"Get dressed," he said coldly, turning his back on me. "I’ll have my driver take you back to your father. Go marry your husband."

He walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door wide open.

I sat frozen for a moment, the silence heavy and suffocating. A bitter taste coated my tongue. I hadn't thought about Nolan once while Adrian was inside me. Not once. But admitting that terrified me more than the wedding ever could.

I climbed out of bed on shaking legs, scanning the floor. My blouse was ruined, shredded beyond repair.

I walked into his walk-in closet, grabbed an oversized navy silk button-up of his, and pulled it over my head. It swallowed my frame, smelling heavily of cedar and his aftershave. I buttoned it down to mid-thigh, keeping my bruised throat hidden beneath the wide collar.

I stepped out into the living room, heading for the front foyer. Adrian stood by the island, pouring another cup of coffee, not even bothering to look up.

"Adrian, I—"

*Bang. Bang. Bang.*

A loud, impatient pounding rattled the heavy front door.

Both of us froze.

Through the solid wood, a familiar, arrogant voice echoed into the penthouse foyer.

"Adrian! Open up, man! It’s Nolan. I know you're awake—I've got a fucking crisis."

The lock on the front door buzzed, followed by the heavy metallic click of the deadbolt sliding back.

"Shit," I whispered, my heart slamming into my throat. "He has the code?"

"He's my brother," Adrian said, his voice flat and unbothered. "He thinks everything I own belongs to him."

"Adrian, he can't see me here." I grabbed the front of the oversized silk shirt, my knuckles white against the fabric. "If he finds me in your penthouse wearing your clothes, he'll know."

"Let him know."

"No!" I hissed, panic surging through my veins. "My father will burn my life to the ground. You heard him. He'll destroy me."

Heavy footsteps echoed across the marble foyer, accompanied by the rustle of a garment bag and Nolan’s sharp, irritated whistle.

"Adrian?" Nolan shouted from the living room. "Where the hell are you? The wedding coordinator is blowing up my phone, and the media already has reporters camped outside the church!"

I darted toward the master closet, a wide walk-in lined with dark smoked glass and walnut cabinetry. I yanked the door open and stepped inside, tucking myself between rows of tailored suits.

"Get in here and shut it," I urged in a frantic whisper, waving him away.

Adrian didn't shut it.

He stood in the frame, his bare chest broad and unmoving, a dark, mocking gleam lighting his gray eyes. He didn't even pull the handle toward the latch. The door stayed open a good six inches.

"Adrian!" I choked out, pressing my back against the wall of cashmere coats. "Close it!"

"Why should I hide you in my own home?" he countered, loud enough to make my blood run cold.

"Keep your voice down!"

Footsteps crossed from the living room directly into the master bedroom. The floorboards creaked right outside the threshold.

"Adrian?" Nolan’s voice sounded right in the bedroom. "Why are the curtains drawn? Don't tell me you're still sleeping."

Adrian didn't budge from the doorway.

A sharp chuckle drifted from the bed area. "Wait. Is that a woman's slip on the rug?" Nolan whistled low, an amused drawl coating his words. "No way. The great, untouchable Adrian actually brought someone home last night? Who is she? Are you hiding a girl in there?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, holding my lungs completely still. Every nerve in my body screamed to vanish into the wall.

Suddenly, Adrian reached out.

His hand clamped around my wrist, his grip hard and unyielding.

"What are you doing?" I gasped under my breath.

He didn't answer. He jerked his arm back, hauling me right out from between the suits. My bare feet skidded across the hardwood as he pulled me flush against his chest, slamming my back flat against the interior side of the closet door.

"Adrian, stop—"

His mouth crashed down on mine before the sentence left my lips.

The kiss was hard, bruising, and completely ruthless. He caught my lower lip between his teeth, biting down just enough to make me gasp, using the opening to slide his tongue deep into my mouth.

I panicked. I slammed both hands against his biceps, my nails digging through his skin, desperately trying to push him away. He didn't move an inch. He trapped my waist with his free arm, lifting me until only the tips of my toes grazed the floor.

He kissed me like he was claiming territory, his hips pressing heavy and warm against mine, reminding me of every single thing we had done hours before.

Outside the thin door, Nolan stopped pacing.

"Adrian?" Nolan called out, his tone shifting from amusement to irritation. "What the hell are you doing in there? I'm talking to you."

Adrian broke the seal of our lips by a fraction of an inch, his mouth hovering against mine, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.

"Morning kiss," Adrian called out over his shoulder, his voice completely level.

My eyes widened in pure terror. I stared at him, my chest heaving against his bare torso. He looked down at me with half-lidded, reckless amusement, waiting for my reaction.

"Seriously?" Nolan scoffed through the wood. "Right now? Clara hasn't shown up at the bridal suite yet. Her phone is off, and Arthur is losing his mind. I need your driver to swing by her favorite spots."

Hearing Nolan say my name while his brother held me pinned against a door made my stomach twist violently.

I thrashed against Adrian’s chest, trying to yank my wrist free from his iron grip. In my frantic bid to tear away, my elbow swung back, striking a metal coat rack.

*Clang.*

A heavy brass hanger knocked against three others, the metallic chime ringing out sharp and loud in the quiet closet.

The room outside went dead silent.

The sound seemed to hang in the air between the walls. My lungs locked up. I froze, my hand suspended in midair, my fingers trembling against the dark silk of Adrian’s shirt.

Adrian didn't move either. He kept his arm hooked around my waist, his gray eyes fixed entirely on my face, watching the color drain from my cheeks.

One second passed.

Then two.

"Wait," Nolan said. His voice was no longer casual. The arrogance was gone, replaced by a strange, sudden tension.

The floorboards creaked right outside the closet door. Nolan had taken two steps closer.

"Liora?" Nolan asked tentatively.

The name dropped like lead into the space between us.

*Liora?*

The question bounced inside my skull, sharp and confusing. Who was Liora?

Eva had been the woman in his suite last night. Eva had been the one with her hands tangled in his hair while he told me our marriage was just business.

Who the hell was Liora?

Adrian's eyebrows rose slightly. A mocking, knowing smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. He leaned his head down, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

"Well?" Adrian whispered, so low only the two of us could hear. "Is that you, Liora?"

I shook my head violently, tears of pure humiliation stinging the backs of my eyes. How many women were there? How many lies had I swallowed over the last two years?

Adrian tilted his head toward the door, his eyes challenging mine. He didn't speak. He just waited, offering me the floor, daring me to open my mouth and tear the whole facade apart right here, right now.

*Answer him,* his gaze demanded. *Tell him you're here.*

I bit down on the inside of my cheek until the sharp iron taste filled my mouth again. I couldn't do it. The memory of my father's heavy palm, the promise of utter ruin, the debts hanging over our heads—the chains locked tight around my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, burying my face into the crook of Adrian's neck, choosing silence.

Outside, the silence stretched thin and brittle.

"Liora, if you're in there with him, I swear to God..." Nolan muttered, his tone turning sharp and possessive.

The brass doorknob gave a quiet rattle.

Then, slowly, the metal mechanism turned.