Celeste’s POV

"Careful, Adrian," I say softly, my fingertips running over the buttons of his shirt. You sound almost dangerously close to saying you want me.

He grips more firmly. Indeed, I. His voice becomes hoarse and heated. Desiring something and believing it are quite different, though.

I grin. Which one triumphs?

He leans forward, his lips hardly a breath away from mine. It depends.

Based on what?

Your ability to deceive me.

I feel a knot in my gut. He's pushing me. Driving me. And darn it, he's too good at it.

But I keep going.

Trailing my fingers along the cloth, I can feel his body's heat. Perhaps I enjoy keeping you on edge, I say.

His eyes get darker. Perhaps I enjoy forcing you to plead.

Though I hide it with a gradual, playful grin, the words set off a bolt of heat in me. You would have to put a lot more effort into it, sweetheart.

His laugh is low, dark. Don't tease me.

But I already do.

His fingers slide into my hair, tilting my head just enough to leave me gasping, and the air crackles. For a second, I believe he is going to kiss me. That he will destroy the thin line separating us and close the distance.

Rather, he retreats.

Curse him.

Frustrated and in pain in ways I don't want to acknowledge, I breathe out. Adrian, is this your practice? Play with ladies as if they were chess pieces?

His countenance changes to one that is inscrutable behind his eyes. Just the ones I can't solve.

I chuckle quietly and shake my head. You don't usually lose control, do you?

Slow and careful, his hand runs down my arm. I never lose.

A falsehood.

Eventually, everyone loses.

Then I suppose we'll know who falls first, I say.

He grins. We shall.

The tension grows, throbbing between us like a live wire. This is a risky game. Of power and passion, of truths hidden under layers of falsehood.

And I don't know who will break first.

A phone buzzes on the table before I can utter another word. Adrian looks at it; his grin fades and his face stiffens.

The atmosphere changes.

Peril.

Turning away, he responds to the summons with sharp efficiency. Talk.

Quiet. His jaw tightens then.

Look for him. His voice is deadly. At this time.

I saw my heart racing.

Whom is he seeking?

And why does it seem that, whatever it is…

It simply altered everything?

"You think I don’t see what you’re doing?"

Adrian's voice is deep and menacing, but it also has something else in it that makes me shudder.

I don't wince. I won't give up. Rather, I rest against the cold marble of the bar of his apartment, slowly and carefully swirling the amber liquid in my glass.

I murmur gently, lifting the glass to my lips, "You'll have to be more particular, darling."

Adrian's gaze pierces me. You're pushing me.

I grin. So?

He runs quickly. One moment he is at the window; the next he is in front of me, caging me against the bar. Though my face stays calm, my breath catches. I cannot let him know how much he influences me.

Intoxicating, his aroma wraps about me like black spice and premium whiskey. Slow, teasing, yet forceful, his fingers follow up my arm.

"Keep pushing, Celeste," he says softly, his lips only inches from me. Find out where it takes you.

My pulse beats in my throat. Perhaps I enjoy pushing you.

His fingers tighten on my wrist, not enough to harm but enough to send a warning. His speech was a lethal whisper, his lips grazing the shell of my ear.

Perhaps I enjoy seeing you shatter.

Curse him.

I swallow hard and cover my response with a gentle laugh. You believe you can destroy me?

His hand slides over my throat's exposed flesh, fingers brushing it to send fire racing through me. I know I am able.

Our eyes meet, the air between us charged with something I cannot identify. Desire. Strength. A fight none of us wishes to lose.

I tilt my head and say, "Then try," my lips just touching his.

For a minute, I believe he will. That he'll finally eliminate the tension choking us since the minute we met by closing the distance.

Rather, he retreats.

Frustration coiling in my belly, I breathe out. "Coward."

His sneer is slow, menacing. Not at all, darling. I only like taking my time.

I swallow the last of my drink and set the glass down, rolling my eyes. Adrian, what is it this time then? A further test? Another match?

He grows more somber. No games. Only responses.

I raise an eyebrow. Answers to what?

His eyes get keener. "Who the hell are you, actually?"

I feel a knot in my gut. What sort of inquiry is that?

The sort I don't ask twice.

He moves, grabbing a document from his desk and throwing it upon the bar separating us. Though it lands softly, its weight seems intolerable.

I make myself see it. Printed in large characters on the front, my name—Lila Carter—

Damn.

I maintain a neutral expression. I didn't think you were the sort to search through a woman's history.

His voice is a deep growl as he leans forward. Your history is not that, is it?

I hold the bar's edge. Are you suggesting what specifically?

His blue eyes pierce me. You are a liar, Celeste.

I draw in a breath.

He is aware.

Not everything—not yet—but enough to put me dangerously near being exposed.

I tilt my head and try to smile. You make it sound negative.

His jaw clenches. You're playing a risky game.

I give a shrug. You are, too.

For a minute, none of us talked. The only sound is the gentle buzz of the city outside; the tension between us like a live wire ready to break.

Then, gradually, he raises the folder and opens it. He pushes one picture my way.

I look down and stop.

It's a photo of my brother.

Or more accurately, the brother meant to be dead.

I hold the bar tighter. Where did you find this?

Adrian looks at me closely. You tell me.

My thoughts are racing as I take a deep breath. Damien Living. That's not doable. It must be.

I make my voice remain constant. That means nothing to me.

Adrian shakes his head and tsk-tsks. Sweetheart, lie better.

I look into his eyes, my heart racing. What makes you care?

His face becomes more serious. Whoever this guy is, he wants you. Should he locate you before I do... He wanders off, obviously intending...

My belly knots. Why would he search for me?

Adrian says, his voice almost dangerously low, "You tell me."

Gripping the bar, my head whirls. Damien's existence alters everything should he be searching for me.

It also indicates that time is running out for me.

Adrian moves further closer, his presence so overwhelming that I cannot answer.

His fingertips touching my cheek, deceptively light, he whispers, "You're going to tell me everything." Should you deceive me once more, Celeste... He holds on more firmly.

I gulp. Pardon?

His lips brush my jaw, a phantom touch that ignites my blood. Then I'll ensure you regret it.

A test. A caution.

And I don't know which one frightens me more.

Celeste’s POV

"You should be afraid of me, Celeste."

Adrian's voice is smooth, deadly. A promise tied in seduction. His body only inches from mine as he grips my wrist and keeps me there. The air between us is thick—dangerous, heated, heady.

I ought to be terrified.

I ought to be running.

Instead, I turn my head and smirk upward at him. But nonetheless, here I am, just in front of you.

Though his smile shows no joy, his lips curve. You don't know when to quit playing games.

I raise an eyebrow. Adrian, you're the one playing. I'm only winning.

His hold gets just strong enough to raise my pulse but not enough to cause pain. His touch is a warning, a quiet promise of what he could do should he choose.

You believe you are succeeding? His breath fans on my lips, his words dropping to a whisper. You have no clue what you have gotten yourself into.

My heart races against my ribs as I take a deep breath. Show me then.

For a single second, something primal, dark, possessive flashes in his gaze. His thumb brushes my lower lip as his fingers glide from my wrist to my jaw, lifting my head.

Be careful what you wish for, he says softly.

My heart races. Where he touches me, my flesh burns.

This is not right. This is risky.

Still, I can't turn away.

My breath is shallow and I split my lips slightly. Perhaps I enjoy risk.

His hold tightens, his eyes darkening. Celeste, no. You enjoy control. You enjoy believing you are in control.

Yes, I do. And I despise how easy he sees through me.

His thumb pushes into my chin, angling my face farther closer. Tell me, darling... Do you still believe you are in charge?

I refuse to give up and swallow hard. You?

For a time, neither of us shifted. The tension between us is like a live wire, crackling with heat and something else—something we shouldn’t identify.

Then he performs the one thing I do not anticipate.

He gives me a kiss.

It's not gentle. It's not mild.

This is war.

His lips slam into me, asking, punishing, robbing my lungs of oxygen. His hand pulls me closer by means of a knot in my hair, as if he wants to devour me whole.

I ought to shove him away. I ought to tell myself why I'm here.

Still, I don't.

I returned his kiss. Strongly.

As his other hand holds my waist, raising me onto the bar counter, a roar rumbles from his chest. Instinctively, my legs encircle his hips and he moves between my thighs, intensifying the kiss until I forget why I ever sought to fight.

Flame. That is what this is.

Unstoppable, unmanageable, a wildfire.

Fisting my hands in his shirt, I draw him unreasonably closer, my body betraying me and dissolving into his.

Tracing my thigh, his fingers glide under the hem of my dress, teasingly threatening to go farther.

Gripping his wrist, I gasp against his lips before he can go higher.

He remains still.

Then, gradually, he draws back, his blue eyes searing into me.

"Scared?" he mocks.

Ignoring the fire gathering in my stomach, I breathe quickly. Do you? Not ever.

His lips twist into a slow, devilish grin. Excellent.

Then he completely releases me, moving back as if nothing just occurred.

Breathless, I blink; my skin still tingles from his touch.

Bastard

He smooths his visage into something inscrutable and straightens his cuffs. We have now discussed the actual cause of your presence.

I feel a tightening in my tummy. What is the cause?

His grin vanishes. The brother of yours.

The atmosphere changes right away. What was once warmth between us turns colder and more acute.

A gradual exhalation hides my response. I have said you—

Lie to me again and I'll discover the truth myself. He speaks with steel. You won't enjoy my techniques, and I swear it.

A shiver rushes down my back.

Adrian Devereaux is not just hazardous when he desires something.

He is unrelenting.

And at the moment, I am his aim.

I make myself remain composed to consider. What precisely do you believe you know?

His eyes narrow. Your actual name is not Lila Carter. That you aren't just some random lady seeking employment. He approaches closer, speaking softly. The man in that image, then, is looking for you.

My blood runs chilly.

He's nearly there. Too near.

I have to mislead him.

Shaking my head, I chuckled softly. You believe I have some long-lost brother looking for me out there? That's a stretch, even for you.

Adrian's face remains unchanged. I don't believe it. I do.

I gulp.

Damien Living.

Should Adrian actually have evidence, then all I have scheduled is in jeopardy.

I have to get in front of this. I have to shape the story first.

I make a smirk. What then is your strategy? Lock me up here till I divulge some great secret, then?

His eyes dance with mirth. You'd already be in my bed, darling, if I believed it would help.

A wave of heat enters my body, but I suppress it.

You truly think well of yourself, don't you?

He tilts his head down. Not at all. I just know what I desire.

For a brief second, his attention falls to my lips before returning to my eyes.

And I always receive what I desire.

My heart races.

I had to leave this place. At this time.

Stepping passed him, I pushed off the bar. Our talk is finished.

But he holds my wrist and stops me first, so I cannot move forward.

Not just now.

Turning around to face him, I breath forcefully. Adrian, what do you want from me?

He grips more firmly. All.

I gasp.

His phrasing suggests more than simply veracity.

It's about me.

The air is again dense with something hazardous. Unstoppable.

And I see, too late, that I am already in too deep.

A loud bang reverberates around the penthouse, preventing me from speaking first.

Adrian's eyebrows knit together.

I scowl. Expecting guests?

His gaze toward the door keeps my wrist in his hold.

One more knock. This time was more difficult.

Adrian's voice is soft as he exhales. Remain here.

But the instant he releases me, I seize his arm.

Something seems off.

Who is it? I say softly.

His jaw clenches. I have no idea.

I feel a shiver down my back.

Three knocks. More loudly. More pressing.

Adrian's face darkens. Tense and fully attentive, he walks to the door.

My heart racing, I remain planted.

The moment he opens the door, it flies open.

And there is the last individual I ever anticipated to witness.

One man.

Dark locks. Emerald eyes.

The same green eyes as me.

Damien

Living.

And pointing a pistol directly at Adrian's chest.

Adrian’s POV

"Step aside, Adrian."

Damien Moreau.

I require no introduction. I already know who he is,

What about the rifle aimed at my chest? That's only a supplement to the actual danger: the storm developing in his green eyes, the same hue as Celeste's.

Frozen, she is behind me. Though she remains silent, I can sense her anxiety.

I stay still.

I don't close my eyes.

I don't even fucking breathe.

Since I don't follow directions.

Especially not from a deceased person.

You have five seconds to put down that pistol, I say, calmly. Under control. Before I let you rue entering that door.

Damien grins. Devereaux, always so calm. But we all know you are not bulletproof.

Stepping forward, I push the gun's barrel into my chest. Then squeeze the trigger.

Quiet.

He grips more firmly.

Still, he doesn't fire.

Her voice cutting, Celeste at last comes out of her daze. Damien, halt!

That one request alters everything.

Damien's gaze darts to her and his face changes. He clenches his jaw. His position wavers—just a little—but enough for me to see the uncertainty.

He's not coming to murder me.

He is here for her.

I take the time.

One quick action gets the pistol out of his hand by twisting his wrist. It falls to the ground.

I throw him against the wall, trapping him with my forearm on his throat, so he cannot respond.

His hands go up to grab my arm and fight me, but I don't let up.

That was a poor choice. "Threatening me in my own house."

Damien clenches his teeth. You believe I care about your house? I came for Celeste.

She's not going anywhere with you.

You can't keep her.

I push further, seeing his expression deepen. You can't have her.

A choked noise comes from his throat. I could kill him right here. Break his fucking neck.

But Celeste approaches nearer, her voice quivering. Adrian, let him go. I do not.

I ought to. Still, I don't.

"Adrian," she repeats, this time more gently. Begging.

And goddamn, I loathe how much control she has over me.

Cursing, I let him go and step back just far enough to allow him to breathe.

Coughing and throat rubbing, Damien gasps. Still, his gaze stays fixed on Celeste.

He gazes at her as though she were his whole universe.

As though he had waited years to see her once more.

It makes me angry.

She advances with caution. Damien... how? How do you live?

His jaw clenches. It's a lengthy tale.

Say that to me.

Damien looks at me, then exhales and turns his attention back to her. "Not in front of him."

Celeste is unsure.

That uncertainty drives me absolutely crazy.

I walk in between them and make her face me. Should you believe for even one second that I am allowing you to depart with him—

I clench my teeth. You believe he will tell you the truth?

Damien laughs derisively. At least I won't trick her into bed first.

I doubt it. I simply go.

A single punch.

Directly to his jaw.

He trips, swearing, but I carry on. Grabbing him by the collar, I push him back into the wall.

You don't get to come in here, threaten me, and behave like some fucking hero," I say. Where the heck have you been all these years?

Damien wipes blood from his mouth and glares. To live.

Pushing into my chest, Celeste steps in front of us. Both of you are sufficient!

I keep my gaze fixed on Damien. You would have returned sooner if you really cared about her.

You know nothing about what I went through.

I don't mind.

Celeste, her voice cracking, turns to Damien. Why didn't you let me know you were alive?

Damien gazes at her, his expression opaque. I couldn't take the chance.

"Risk what?"

He looks at me, then back to her. You.

She gasps.

Her gaze at him bothers me. The way her eyes relax.

And I certainly as hell don't like the way he stares at her.

As if she were his property.

I take her wrist and draw her closer. This is over.

Damien advances. Devereaux, she's not your property.

I grin. Not at all. But she certainly isn't yours either.

Celeste's voice is harsh as she pulls away from my hold. Stop treating me like some treasure to be claimed, both of you!

Her explosion leaves us speechless.

She glances at Damien after taking a hesitant breath. I seek solutions.

She gazes at me. But I am not going with him.

That should not make me feel triumphant. Still, it does.

Damien tightens his hands. That means you are wrong.

Celeste's lips close. Perhaps. But I have to create it.

He exhales and lets his shoulders drop a little. Staying with him will make you sorry.

I laugh grimly. Attempt to steal her; you will regret it.

Our conflict is a live wire.

One incorrect action and everything will blow apart.

Damien looks at her once more. When you are prepared to learn the truth, you know where to locate me.

Then, without saying anything more, he turns and departs.

Celeste exhales and rubs her temples the second he leaves.

I move closer. Say you weren't really thinking about going with him.

She drops into the sofa with a sigh. I was not sure what I was thinking.

Kneeling before her, I hold her chin and make her face me. I don't believe him.

She agrees. Me neither.

Well.

Still, something feels off.

Damien appearing now? All these years later?

It's intentional.

I don't think coincidences exist.

I go about, standing. He is aware of something. Something significant.

Celeste observes me closely. You believe he is concealing something?

He is, I know.

A silence lengthens between us.

Then, gently, she inquires, "Do you believe... Do you believe he could be telling the truth?"

I cease my pacing. Gaze at her.

Say the one thing that counts.

It doesn't matter to me.

Her brows knit. What is it?

I lean down and come closer till my face is inches from hers.

What he says doesn't matter, Celeste. Your past with him doesn't matter to me. Whether he's your long-lost brother or the fucking devil himself doesn't matter to me.

Caging her in, I hold the couch's edge. You belong to me. And I would set the planet on fire before I let anybody steal you from me.

Her breathing catches. Adrian

Sliding my hand to her neck, I brush my fingers across her quick pulse.

Should you go, I whisper, "I will hunt you down."

She trembles but stays put.

Should you attempt to run... I touch her ear with my lips. You will come to regret it.

Her body pushing into mine, her fists fisting in my shirt.

And just when I believe she will drive me away—

Strongly.

Despairing.

A giving up.

But her phone buzzes just as my hand slides beneath her dress.

She becomes rigid. Draws back.

Grabs for it with unsteady hands.

Seeing the TV makes her face pale.

I take the call before she can respond.

One name appears on the screen.

Unidentified Number.

The message, however, is obvious.

We know your location.