CHAPTER 3 – BEHIND THE VELVET WALLS

Morning in the Knight mansion was a different kind of morning that I wasn't familiar with. The air smelled of glossy wood and gardenia, and sun rays gleaming through crystal windows made the house look like it had been chiseled from light itself.

I hurriedly had my shower and dressed quickly in black pencil trousers and a silk blouse before heading downstairs. My first official day as Katherine Knight's assistant. The very thought made my heart quaver.

Katherine was already in her studio, a very large room filled with several mannequins, rolls of various fabrics, and sketches attached in perfect sequence to the wall. She stood by the window, holding a cup of coffee, her reflection piercing through the glass like a queen inspecting her empire.

"Good morning, Rain," she said without looking up. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, ma'am. The room is beautiful."

"Good. Let's begin."

She handed me a pile of folders thicker than my courage. "These are some ideas for the new couture line. Sort them by fabric type and color, then email me a weekly programme of meetings with the production guys. Also, I need a new plan for Paris on my desk before midday."

I blinked. "Paris?"

"We're presenting our next collection at Palais Galliera next month. If you want to witness the real fashion warfare, you'll come."

My heart jumped. Paris. The dream of every designer. "I'd love that."

Her lips curved a bit. "Ambition suits you."

For the next few hours, I worked like my entire existence depended on it. The studio buzzed with the quiet yet intense sounds of creation; tailors whispering over dresses, the soft hum of multiple sewing machines, the "scroop" sound of silk, and the swishing sound of tulle filled my ears.

Katherine was everywhere; decisive, elegant, terrifyingly brilliant. She didn't just make dresses; she sculpted emotion out of every piece of fabric she touched.

By noon, I was worn out but thrilled. I stepped into the corridor to catch my breath. That's when I saw him.

Adrian.

He stood in a corner, looking dashing in a charcoal suit, making a call. His tone was sharp, commanding; the voice of a man used to giving orders that people hastily obeyed.

When he saw me, his expression softened. He ended the call and walked over.

"You survived your first morning," he said.

"Somehow," I smiled, despite myself.

He studied me for a while. "You look different during the day."

I raised an eyebrow. "Less mysterious?"

"More dangerous."

My heart shook. "You know you shouldn't say things like that."

He tilted his head. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because your wife may hear you."

He smiled faintly, but there was something dark behind it. "You will learn one or two things about Katherine soon. She doesn't see people... she owns and uses them."

Before I could say anything, her voice floated out of the studio. "Rain!"

I turned, startled. When I looked back, Adrian had disappeared.

The rest of the day went by slowly, spun into a whirl of fabrics, phone calls, and struggling to meet up with Katherine's impossible deadlines. I had never seen anyone work like Katherine. She moved with purpose and unimaginable energy, her commands precise and absolute.

By evening, she dismissed the staff and called me into her private office. It was the only room that didn't feel alive with beauty. Instead, it had control written all over it. Dark velvet walls, vintage furniture, heirlooms, a massive mirror behind her desk reflecting everything and everyone.

She gestured to me to sit. "How have you found the mansion so far?"

"It's... magnificent."

She crossed her legs gracefully, smiling. "You'll get used to it. This house has its moods. Some say it watches your back."

I tried to laugh, but for some weird reason, the laughter stuck in my throat.

She studied me for a while. "You're a fast learner. I like that. But there's something about you I can't figure out yet."

I forced a polite smile. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Do," she said lightly. "I see potential in you, Rain. But potential can be disastrous if not well controlled. You understand what I mean?"

I nodded, though I wasn't sure I did.

Her eyes flicked toward the mirror behind me. "Good. Now, before you go, a word of advice. The Knights are always watched. By investors, competitors, the press... even by enemies. Discretion is not a choice; it's survival."

I felt her words hang in the air like perfume long after I left her office.

That night, I relaxed on my balcony, the well-lit city looking like fallen stars. The mansion was quiet, too quiet. My mind drifted to Adrian; his words, his gaze that gave me chills, the heap of unsaid things between us. I had noticed earlier, when I saw him signing a document for Katherine at the studio, that he was left-handed. A discovery that strangely excited me and made me feel more of what I couldn't explain.

I giggled.

Then I saw a shadow downstairs.

A tall figure, moving with precision, slipped into the garden. It was Adrian. He walked towards the fountain, his phone pressed to his left ear. Out of mere curiosity, I guess, I eavesdropped.

"Tonight?" His voice was tense and low. "No. I don't want her to know yet."

I froze.

Was he talking about Katherine? Me?

He looked back suddenly, as if feeling my eyes on him. I hid behind the railing, my heart pounding loudly in my chest, breathing hard. When I dared to bring up my head, he was gone.

The curtains behind me danced with the wind, and for a second, when I saw my reflection on the glass window, the woman who stared back at me was torn between fear and fascination.

I realized I wasn't just residing in the Knight mansion anymore.

I was sinking into it.

And it would swallow me whole if I wasn't careful.

CHAPTER 4 – THREADS OF TEMPTATION

Sunlight came in through the tall windows of the atelier, smiling at us all, and made materials like satin and silk glow. The place smelled of warm fabrics and power. Everybody moved and worked fast, getting ready for the upcoming Paris event. But even in the midst of the numerous activities tying me down, I could feel him.

Adrian.

He sat near the stairway, taking in the sun, basking in the ambience. Then he deliberately rested his eyes on me. No, it wasn't casual. It was the kind of look that makes you miss your step. Each time I turned, he was looking at me... as if studying me. When I bent down to pick up my pencil, he watched me... his eyes following my movement. When I pinned a fabric on a mannequin, my sixth sense informed me of his presence. It was totally inappropriate and nearly drove me crazy.

"Rain, Focus," I told myself.

Katherine had put me in charge of planning how the runway activities would play out. The fabrics were to move like music, and the models were to move in concord with that music. My brain was supposed to be occupied with ways to perfect that presentation and not disappoint Katherine, not the man sitting ten feet away whose green eyes were addictive.

When I finally gathered the courage to look up, Adrian was coming over to my table. Calculatedly. Confidently. Every step he took made the air between us feel hotter.

"Why do you work so hard?" he asked, standing close. His cologne intimidated me. Oud, purely masculine and rich.

"To achieve the perfection that Katherine is paying me for," I replied, trying to sound unfazed.

He bent his head slightly, smiling, "Are you sure, Rain?"

The way my name rolled off his tongue did something dangerous to me. I looked away, pretending to arrange pins and chalk, "Yes."

"That's a safe answer," he said.

Before I could say anything else, his hand touched mine as he reached and picked up a sketch. The contact was short, but it gave me goose bumps. His eyes held mine for a moment too long before he backed away. My breathing was shallow. He was married... to my boss... he was Katherine Knight's husband. And yet, every part of me felt like none of that mattered.

That afternoon, while supervising rehearsals on the Academy runway, Katherine sent me to pick up fabric samples from her office; the very same office no one but her entered. Her office was chilly, and the air was thick with expensive perfume. A partially closed drawer behind Katherine's desk caught my attention. Curiosity asked me to peek inside. Curiosity again asked me to pull it out.

With my sweaty and shaky palms, I skimmed through the folders I picked up. Some had international bank seals. In the transaction histories were unending lists of transfers from Knight Enterprises to several foreign accounts. They all had Katherine's signature. I heard footsteps coming, I quickly returned the documents and snapped the drawer shut, eyes wide, pulse racing. I barely had time to gather the fabrics I came for before Adrian appeared at the door.

"Lost?" he asked calmly, but his eyes were sharp.

I forced a smile. "No, on an errand."

He came closer, his face unreadable. "Katherine doesn't usually allow anyone in here."

"She sent me to..."

He held up his hand, smiling, "Relax, Rain. Just... be careful. Some rooms in this house contain more than just silk and stitches."

Our eyes met, and I could swear he heard my heart pounding in my chest. There was this knowledge in his stare... as if he already knew exactly what I had seen earlier. He held my wrist as I made to leave. Gently yet firmly. His palm was warm and comforting. I forgot to breathe.

"Rain, breathe," he whispered.

I resumed breathing, almost gasping.

"Don't lose yourself in this glamorous world of beauty and lies." He finished.

The air between us was boiling. Blood rushed through me as his fingers drew invisible lines on my face, sending fire through my veins. I should've pulled away. I didn't.

"Adrian..." I breathed hard, his name feeling too heavy on my tongue.

His eyes did most of the talking. For a moment, it felt like time stood still. His hand caressed my arm, his breath heavy on my neck and my cheek, and then, as if realizing himself, he took a step back, tension written all over him.

"I leave for a business trip in a week," he said abruptly. "From there, I'll join you guys in Paris for the presentation."

The change in his tone was annoying. He was clearly trying to regain control, to rebuild the distance we both destroyed just a few minutes ago.

I nodded, stiffly, "OK."

"At least, I will get to focus completely on my work," I told myself.

He chuckled. "Yes, Rain. Focus on your work."

I didn't even realize I had said that aloud. My face silently pleaded with his mind to forget what he just heard me say.

He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway until they faded away completely. As I watched him go, I hated the way my body was already missing the heat of his closeness.

As I returned to the studio, my mind was in shambles. Guilt, thrill, fear, I felt all of them at once. I had touched something forbidden today, not just Adrian's hand, but a dark chamber of Katherine Knight's empire. I wasn't sure which was more dangerous.

That night, as I lay in bed, my heart was very far from calm. I kept perceiving his perfume, seeing his face, and hearing his voice. I told myself I would regain control in his absence. Deep down, I knew that was a lie.

Adrian Knight was a temptation I wouldn't survive unhurt. And the secrets hidden behind Katherine's desk were only the beginning.

CHAPTER 5 – FIRE IN PARIS

Clarity. That was what I promised myself I would achieve when Adrian travels. A week of quiet, devoid of distractions from his deep voice or burning gaze, would do the magic.

How wrong I was.

Everywhere felt emptier. I no longer heard his voice and footsteps in the halls; I heard them inside my head. Sometimes, I caught a whiff of his cologne around me and unconsciously looked around for him. Now and then, I stared at doorways, expecting to see him standing there. Every drawing I made, every fabric I held, seemed to whisper his name.

Mere crush. That was what I called it. But every night, when I tried to sleep, I could feel his touch and breath on my body.

The trip to Paris was finally here. I was very relieved. The whole academy was shaking with excitement. Paris, the capital of fashion. Katherine Knight was launching her Serpentine grandeur collection, a superb combination of sculptural gowns and metallic fabrics. Seamstress, model, students, everyone was running on nerves and caffeine. For me, Paris meant one thing: Seeing Adrian. I tried to take my mind off him. I failed.

The first day in Paris was a frenzy of activities; last fittings, lighting tests, and last-minute stitching breakdowns. We tried to handle the disasters as smoothly as possible. The venue was like an opera house, gold and glass everywhere, the kind of place that wipes your slate clean, and you forget how ordinary you used to be. Models floated across the stage as if art came alive, while Katherine directed it all with detailed precision and expertise.

By evening, the whole team was burnt out. The first day had gone smoothly, but Katherine wasn't satisfied. She rarely was.

"Rain," she called as we packed up. "I dropped some sketches in my hotel suite. They are for tomorrow. Go pick them up for me."

"Yes, ma'am."

She threw me a key, eyes on her phone.

I arrived at the hotel ... or should I say a palace. The chandeliers looked costlier than my apartment back home. Katherine's suite was on the tenth floor.

The soft carpet greeted my tired feet. The lights were dim, the air filled with the faint scent of soap and steam.

And then I froze.

He was there.

Adrian.

Just coming out of the shower, a white towel around his waist... low... loose, his skin wet. Drops of water ran down his face and chest, looking like liquid diamonds.

My heart almost jumped into my mouth. "I... I thought this was Katherine's room...I... I'm sorry, Sir..." I stuttered, turning away and covering my eyes with my palm.

He laughed. "You are not in the wrong room, Rain," he said calmly. "I'm staying here too."

My mouth went dry. "Oh. I didn't know you were back." My eyes were still closed.

"Open your eyes."

I obeyed slowly, and there he was, right in my face, "You seem to walk into my rooms often, Rain."

"I didn't... I wanted... I came to..." I fumbled my words.

 "Go ahead," he gestured, his eyes smiling.

The large room suddenly felt much smaller. I dragged my legs to the desk. My fingers trembled as I flipped through files, pretending not to notice that he watched me.

For reasons best known to fate... my elbow touched his arm as he walked past me.

Electricity. Strong, magnetic force.

I froze, every nerve awake. His towel brushed my thigh, his warmth covering me.

He didn't move away. Instead, his voice came low, close enough for my skin to imbibe it. "Where are you rushing to?"

"I... I just... this..."

"We're finally alone," he whispered. "Far from Katherine's controlling eyes."

His words sank into me, deep and dangerous.

"This is wrong," I breathed, but there was zero conviction in my voice.

He came closer, so close that the heat from his body seemed to seep through the thin fabric of my blouse. "Tell me to stop," he said softly. 

I turned to face him, my heart hammering. "Adrian, please..."

His facial expression stopped me. His eyes were red, burning, not with arrogance, confidence, or cruelty, but with a kind of intense hunger that mirrored my own. I saw the man beneath the billionaire; one who wanted to feel something real... again.

"Did you miss me, Rain?" he asked.

The question straightened me out. I could have lied or at least run away. But instead, I helplessly whispered, "Yes."

His hand moved slowly, intentionally, tracing the side of my lips. "I know I shouldn't want you," he said. "But I see you even with my eyes closed."

My pulse danced wildly. My body moved faster than my mind, my hand rested on his chest, wet and warm beneath my palm. I ran my nails through the hairs on his chest, trying to avoid his eyes, "Adrian..."

He lifted my face, his eyes and breath on my lips. "Tell me to stop," he whispered again, his voice shaking.

I couldn't speak. The world had disappeared. All I could hear was the rhythm of our breathing, the rain tapping softly on the balcony glass, his scent, dizzying and forbidden.

When our lips finally met, it wasn't gentle. It was fire.

Months of restraint, weeks of denial; all of it burned in that kiss. My fingers tangled in his damp hair, his arm pulled me closer, and for a heartbeat, there was no Paris, no Katherine, no consequences... only the taste of him, the ache of desiring more.

When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against mine. His voice was rough. "You should go."

My knees felt weak. My lips were wet. I grabbed the documents, rushed out, afraid that I might be unable to leave if I stayed one more second. 

As I closed the door behind me, I rested on it, gasping for air. My heart was still racing.

Paris had barely begun, and I was already burning alive.