Page 15 of His Dark Desires

"That's quite a pivot." I fidget with my napkin, caught off guard by his directness.

"I find you far more fascinating than theoretical discussions." His voice drops lower. "Though I enjoy watching you challenge my opinions."

"Most people don't."

"I'm not most people." He leans forward. "And you're not most artists."

I try to maintain my composure, not exactly hating that he's inching deeper into my personal space. "You barely know me."

"I'd like to change that. You have this way of seeing through pretense. It's... a nice change from what I'm used to."

"Is that why you keep watching me? To catch glimpses of honesty?"

"Among other things." The corner of his mouth quirks up. "Like how you scrunch your nose when you're skeptical. Like now."

I immediately try to relax my face, which makes him laugh—a genuine sound that transforms his features. But I've seen it now—that brief glimpse behind his walls. It makes him seem suddenly, startlingly human.

The waiter clears our plates, and Adrian settles the check without even glancing at the total. My stomach flips when I catch a glimpse of the wine price alone.

"We made good progress today. Let me arrange a car for you," Adrian says, standing. His fingers wrap around my elbow as he helps me up.

"I can take the subway—"

"Absolutely not." That steel edge returns to his voice.

Outside, a sleek black car idles at the curb, though I never saw Adrian make a call.

"I enjoyed our discussion."

He extends his hand. When I take it, his grip is warm and firm, fingers seeming to caress me. "I look forward to seeing your vision come to life."

Our eyes meet, and the world narrows to this point of contact between us. His thumb traces an almost imperceptible circle on my palm. One heartbeat. Two. Three.

I pull away first, but the phantom pressure of his touch lingers.

The car door opens silently. As I slide into the plush leather interior, I see Adrian through the window. His expression is unreadable in the dark glass. The car pulls away from the curb as he offers a small wave.

As soon as I'm alone, it's like I can think again. I couldn't quite access any of my usual agency. What happened?

I press my forehead against the cool window, trying to sort through the tangle of emotions this evening has stirred up.

Adrian's knowledge of my work was uncanny. The way he described pieces no one has seen, how he anticipated artistic directions I've barely begun to explore. It's like he's been reading my diary; except I don't keep one.

But there was that moment, when he laughed, when something real cracked through his polished surface.

The commission could change everything for me. But Adrian's suggestions felt less like guidance and more like gentle commands, each one crafted to appeal to my artistic sensibilities while nudging me down a predetermined path.

I close my eyes, remembering how it felt when Adrian looked at me, the way he moved. The brief moments when something else showed through—something hungry and almost desperate.

The wine's warmth starts to fade, leaving me unsure. This opportunity could be everything I've worked for, or it could be another cage, just bigger and more beautifully gilded than the last.

The car glides to a stop outside my building. As I reach for the door handle, I catch the driver watching me in the rearview mirror. He looks away too quickly, and something cold settles in my stomach.

I hurry inside, Adrian's business card burning a hole in my pocket, while my mind spins with equal parts possibility and warning.

Chapter 4

Sophia

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