Page 23 of His Dark Desires

I lean against the window, watching as the smart glass adapts to the changing light. What does he see in me that warrants all this?

I'm still standing by the window when Adrian returns, his footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. I turn to find him smiling warmly.

"I see you've discovered the view," he says, moving to stand beside me. "But if you like this, there's something you might enjoy even more." His hand attaches to the small of my back, guiding me firmly. "Care for a break?"

Like I have a choice. But I nod, suddenly aware of how long I've been standing here lost in thought. Adrian guides me through a door I hadn't noticed before, leading to a set of stairs. When we get to the top and open a second door, we step into an open-air seating area. The space feels intimate, with plush chairs arranged around a low table. String lights twinkle overhead, and potted plants create natural privacy screens.

But it's the view that takes my breath away. We're even higher here, the city spread out before us like a glittering tapestry. The evening air is cool on my skin, carrying the faint scent of the flowers surrounding us.

"This is beautiful," I breathe, settling into one of the chairs. The fabric is butter-soft against my arms.

Adrian takes the seat across from me, his posture relaxed yet somehow still commanding. I glance around, noticing Mara's absence. The tension in my shoulders eases slightly. Something about her makes me feel like I'm being evaluated.

"I come here to think sometimes," Adrian says, his eyes on the cityscape. "There's something clarifying about being above it all, don't you agree?"

I watch Adrian's profile against the darkening sky, struck by how the city lights soften his usually sharp features.

"It's strange being up here," I admit. "Everything looks so small, so manageable from this height."

"That's partly why I bought this building." Adrian's fingers trace patterns on the arm of his chair. "Down there, life is chaos. Up here, I can see the patterns, make sense of things."

"Is that what drives you? Making sense of chaos?"

He turns those storm-gray eyes on me, and something in his expression makes my heart skip.

"Among other things. What drives you, Sophia? What makes you pour yourself out night after night?"

The question catches me off guard. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the evening's warmth.

"I guess... it's the only way I know how to make sense of things, too. When I paint, everything else falls away. The doubts, the fears..." I pause, surprised by my own honesty.

"The financial struggles?" His voice is gentle but knowing.

I nod, throat tight. "Daniel—my ex—he used to say I was fooling myself. That I'd never make it as an artist." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "He'd critique everything I did, always finding flaws, always pushing me to be more 'commercial.'"

Adrian's jaw tightens. "Some people mistake control for support. They think by breaking someone down, they're helping them rebuild stronger."

There's something in his tone that makes me look up. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

He's quiet for a long moment, his eyes distant. "I had a partner once. Elliot. We built my first company together." His fingers clench on the chair arm. "He was my brother. Until he wasn't."

"What happened?"

"He tried to take everything. Not just the company. My reputation, my trust..." Adrian's voice hardens. "He almost succeeded. That's when I learned that control isn't just about power. Sometimes it's about survival."

I lean forward, drawn by the vulnerability in his confession. "Is that why you..." I gesture at the building, the studio, everything he's created.

"Why I need everything perfect?" A bitter smile crosses his face. "Partly. But it's more than that. When you've been betrayed thoroughly enough, you learn to see the patterns. To prevent chaos before it can touch you."

His words resonate with something deep inside me. "I understand that. After Daniel... I stopped showing my work for months. It felt safer to keep everything locked away."

"But you started again."

"I had to. Art isn't just what I do. It's who I am." I pinch the bridge of my nose, frustrated. "Even when I'm broke, even when I doubt everything about myself, I can't stop creating. It's like breathing."

Adrian's expression softens. "That's what drew me to your work initially. That honesty. You don't hide behind technique or trends. Every piece feels like a confession."

Heat rises to my cheeks. "Sometimes I think I reveal too much in my art."

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