Chapter 02-Evelyn

The clapping stopped and the clinking of glasses went down, but my heart still kept racing. It wouldn't slow. I could still feel Adrian's gaze on me hot and heavy like it was burning my skin.

For a moment I just stood there, my hand clunged in Paul's arm. I could feel how tense he was under his fake smile like he was ready to explode.

Adrian stepped down from the stage then just walked right through people like he owned the whole place, his smile wide pulling every eye to him.

"Paul!" He called out loud drawing everyone's attention, then he pulled my husband into a hug.

It looked normal but I saw how their backs became stiff when they patted each other, both smiling for the crowd, but I knew Paul so well to miss that mean look in his eyes.

"What was that stunt you pulled on stage?" Paul asked, his voice low.

Adrian only chuckled, waving the question away with his hand like it was nothing. "Don't make it sound so big. It was just family truth. People should know we stand together, right?"

Paul's jaw tightened, he wanted to say more but then Adrian's eyes came to me.

"And who," his voice softened, smoother now, "is this beautiful woman beside you?"

Paul straightened. "My wife. Evelyn."

Adrian's smile deepened. When he took my hand, everything around me just faded like nothing else existed. His fingers were strong, cool on mine. Then he bent down and brushed his lips over my skin like some old-school gentleman, and it sent butterflies rushing wild inside me.

"We've met," Adrian said casually, glancing at me through his lashes. "But not the proper way."

My breath caught. It was simple words that Paul didn't think much of it, but I knew the meaning he was pulling at that moment we had before, his hand steadying me. Our eyes locked-his blue, mine brown-and something hot pulled low inside me.

Paul didn't notice. He was too busy with keeping up appearances. But I felt that pull I shouldn't feel, something I had no business feeling.

Another couple came and called Adrian away. He excused himself easily, telling Paul they'd talk later. Just like that, the moment ended, the spell broken.

****

We didn't stay long. Paul dragged us out, his silence heavy in the car. By the time we stepped into the house, he snapped.

"That bastard!" he slammed his keys down hard. "What game is he playing? Showing me like a trophy? Making me look like I owe him everything?"

I touched his arm. "Paul, it wasn't that bad-"

He jerked away. "Don't defend him, Evelyn. You don't know him like I do. He's fake, all charming until he gets what he wants"

The anger in his voice cut sharp, but underneath it was something else, pain and resentment.

I sighed, stepping closer, sliding my hands up his chest. "Then forget about him. Tonight is about us."

He looked down at me, still angry but his eyes softened a little when I toyed with his collar. Slowly, his breath grew heavier. "You always know how to distract me." He muttered.

"I plan to." I said and kissed him hard, cutting his anger out. He kissed me back, rough and hungry. His hands grabbed my waist, pulling me close till I felt his heart beating fast. I melted into him the fire of his mouth burning away the strange chill Adrian had left.

Without stopping the kiss, Paul lifted me up and carried me up the stairs. I held onto him, my heart racing, lips bruising under his.

When we got to the room, he pushed me against the door. His mouth trailing fire down my neck.

"Mine." he growled, tugging hard at the zipper of my dress.

"Yes." I whispered, shivering as the fabric slipped down my skin.

The dress fell to the floor, and his hands were everywhere, greedy and rough-that made me burn.

I pulled at his shirt, too desperate to feel him and soon, he stripped fast and soon it was gone. His bare body hard and warm, pressing me to the bed.

Our kiss turned messy and wet. Our breaths crashing together, tongues fighting. When he moved lower, kissing me all over, I shook under him begging with need.

When he finally pushed into me, the world spun. Every thrust made me gasp and cry out. Our bodies went wild with rhythm, and his anger turned into him claiming me again and again till the room was full of my sounds.

Afterwards, we collapsed together, sweaty and weak, his arm heavy across me. He kissed my temple, whispering. "You're mine, Evelyn. Always mine."

I closed my eyes holding him close, but deep blue eyes and that forbidden smile stayed inside me, refusing to leave.

Chapter 03-Adrian

My PA's voice filled the study, efficient and businesslike.

"Since last night's announcement, we've had seven requests already," he said over the phone. "Two want design deals, three are pushing for long partnerships. The rest...they just want their names tied to yours."

I smirked faintly, walking closer to the window. The city stretched out in front of me, glass and concrete catching the weak Saturday light. It was still waking up from Friday night, same as the people in it.

"And the Europe deal?" I asked, finishing my coffee.

"Finalized," he said. "Three more years, confirmed."

"Good."

My company had its hands everywhere-buildings, hotels, real estate that scraped the sky. Towers with my name on them. Every deal was another stone added to the empire I'd built piece by piece. I'm really proud of this.

But my mind wasn't really on business today.

"You've done well," I told him. "Take the weekend off."

A pause. "Are you sure, sir?"

"Yes. I'll call if I need you."

I dropped the phone onto the desk, rolled my shoulders back, and left the study.

Downstairs, the house was quiet. I poured myself another cup of coffee, leaned against the counter, and let the steam rise into my face. The smell was addictive. First sip-hot, bitter, strong. My one weakness. Some men needed whiskey. Mine was coffee. Always had been.

But even coffee couldn't clear away what was stuck in my head.

Her.

Hazel eyes, startled, widened. The soft weight of her body when she fell into me. That moment was still burned into my chest.

Paul's wife. Evelyn.

Even saying her name in my mind made something shift inside me. She had been stunning in that gown, untouchable almost. Like art behind glass. But in my arms she wasn't art. She was real. Warm. Trembling.

And when her lips parted slightly, God...I knew she had felt it too.

I should have stepped back sooner. Should have acted like nothing. Instead, when Paul introduced us, I made it worse. I kissed her hand. A simple gesture. But her breath caught. Her pulse jumped under my touch. I saw it in her eyes, she wasn't untouched by it.

I set my mug down, flexed my hand as if her skin still lingered there.

This wasn't just lust. It was recognition. Dangerous, because I knew it wasn't one-sided, I hope.

Then Paul came to mind. Paul, Paul-unchanged, after all these years. Still full of arrogance. Still wearing his pride like armor. Still clutching his resentment like a child refusing to let go of a toy.

I'd seen it in his face last night when I raised that glass to him. He hated it. I enjoyed it.

Poor Paul. Always desperate for control. Always so easy to anger.

But this time, he had something I wanted.

My grip tightened on the mug until it groaned.

What did that make me? A villain? A thief? Or just a man finally taking what should've been his?

The truth was simple: I didn't come back only for business. I came to set things straight. Paul could keep pretending to be the perfect husband, perfect smiles, perfect life. I knew the truth. He was the same insecure boy he'd always been. The one who hated me for being chosen. For winning when he couldn't.

I'd taken from him before. Why should this be any different?

A dry laugh slipped out, rough in my throat. I wasn't blind, I knew going after her would mean war. There'd be no turning back. Paul would never forgive it.

But honestly? I wasn't sure I cared.

I took another slow sip of coffee, the burn grounding me.

Evelyn. That woman.

She had looked at me like she wanted to hate me, but couldn't. Like she knew she was slipping and couldn't stop herself. That look kept me awake long after the party ended.

And if I was being honest, I didn't want to fight it.

I wanted her eyes on me again. I wanted her lips open for me, not in shock, but in surrender. I wanted her voice, soft and low, saying my name. Not his.

Was it wrong? Of course. Did that matter? No.

Because the truth was already carved into me, Paul's wife was definitely my obsession now.

And the question wasn't if I'd touch her again.

It was only when.

Chapter 04-Evelyn

Steam clouded the bathroom mirror as I stood under the rush of water, head tilted back, letting it pour down my face and shoulders. Last night had been...good. Paul had been gentle, the way he always tried to be, and I gave myself to him, let myself belong to him like I always did. Still, as the water ran over me now, another picture pressed in where it didn't belong.

His cologne. His nearness. The way his hand had caught me, steady, but not letting go fast enough.

Adrian.

My chest tightened, and I pressed my palms flat against the tile as if that could shove the thought out of me.

Stop it, Evelyn. He's your husband's brother. Stepbrother, but still-Paul's blood in a way. You love Paul. You chose him. You belong here. I told myself each word, like reciting a line I didn't fully believe.

But my body refused to listen. The memory of Adrian's scent clung too strong, darker than soap, heavier than steam. And a traitorous part of me wondered-what if he hadn't stopped? What if those eyes had stayed locked on me while his hand moved lower?

"No," I said aloud, scrubbing hard at my skin until it stung. "No. That's not me. That won't be me."

When I finally stepped out and wrapped the towel tight around myself, I forced my face into calm. Composed look. Paul was my husband, and I would keep things exactly that way.

He was already awake when I entered the bedroom, sitting stiff on the edge of the mattress, his tablet glowing in his hands. His face strained with stress.

"Morning," I said lightly.

"Mm." His answer was clipped, without warmth.

I slipped into my robe and moved closer. "Something wrong?"

He dropped the tablet on the bed, and my eyes fell on the screen. Headlines blared across it: The Billionaire Step-brothers-Hartwell vs. Blackthorne. A photo from last night froze mid-frame, Adrian holding a glass high in toast while Paul and I stood beside him in the light, caught too still, too uncomfortable.

Paul cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "It's everywhere. It's trending. Now people think I'm tied to him. Or worse-that I've been feeding off him all this time."

I sat down carefully, trying to soothe him. "Paul, maybe it's not that bad. More attention could mean more people noticing your work. Even if it's curiosity at first-"

He snapped his head toward me, eyes flashing. "You think I need Adrian to get clients? You think Hartwell Constructions wasn't already successful before he dragged me into his circus?"

"That's not what I said." I replied quickly, lifting my hands. "I only thought-"

"Thought what?" He barked out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Do you have any idea how long I've worked to separate myself from him? From that family name? People already measure me against him like it's some race I never signed up for. The last thing I need is this-this mess, making me look like I'm hanging on his success."

It's not like I knew anything about you both. I thought.

I bit down the words forming on my tongue, because I knew his pride was always unyielding, sharp as steel.

"Paul," I tried once more, softer, "all I meant was that sometimes exposure can work in your favor. If people-"

"I don't want exposure with him," he cut in, voice like a blade. "Not as a partner. Not as competition. Nothing. Hartwell Constructions exists because I built it. My hands. My years. Not his. Not anyone's!"

The certainty in his tone left no space for argument.

So I just nodded faintly, smoothing the sleeve of my robe. "Alright then. Forget I said anything. I'll be heading out with Clara today, she's been begging me to come."

That made him pause. His gaze dragged to me, really looking this time, his eyes dark and possessive.

"Don't wander off too long, mi amor," he said at last, his hand brushing over my thigh. It was gentle, almost tender, but the weight behind it pressed harder than it should.

The words wrapped tighter around me than his touch. They should have sounded protective, loving even. But there was something else hidden in them, something that made my chest ache.

I forced a small smile, pretending to take it as care. "Of course. I won't."

He seemed satisfied with that, already turning back to his screen, already elsewhere. Like I was another detail in his life he needed to smooth out.

I grabbed my purse, slinging it over my shoulder as I left the room. But his words clung to me like smoke.

Don't wander off.

And underneath them, like a shadow I couldn't shake, another whisper followed.

What if I already have?