Page 40 of His Dark Desires

"You can dress it up however you want, but that's exactly what this is," I snap back, my voice stronger than I feel. "You've been watching me, manipulating my life from the shadows."

"March 15th, two years ago." Adrian takes another step forward. "The Riverside Gallery. You had three pieces hanging in that cramped back corner. No one else saw their value, but I did."

My first real exhibition. I'd been so proud just to have my work displayed anywhere.

"You wore paint-stained jeans and that oversized green sweater," he continues. "You looked so nervous while talking to potential buyers. None of them understood your vision."

How could he remember so much? I back up until I feel the edge of the easel against my spine.

"So, you just decided to... what? Buy my work through fake names? Track my every move?"

"I cultivated your talent. Everything I've done has been for your benefit."

"I didn't need anyone to cultivate my talent," I spit back, my heart hammering. "I was doing fine on my own."

Adrian's laugh is cold and dismissive. "Fine? You were selling pieces for a fraction of their worth. Working that dead-end job. Letting that hack Daniel convince you your art wasn't good enough."

Heat floods my face. The truth in his words stings worse than the mockery. "That doesn't explain why you needed to watch me from the shadows. Why not just approach me directly?"

"Your talent was being wasted, undervalued." His voice drops lower, something raw breaking through his controlled façade. "I couldn't stand watching you struggle."

I back away, my steps taking me closer to the wall. The look in his eyes should terrify me, but instead it sends electricity racing through my veins. His words wrap around me, reasonable, impossible to fight against.

"You needed protection," he continues, matching my retreat with slow, purposeful steps. "Guidance. Someone who could see your true potential."

My back hits the wall. He has an answer for everything, each explanation sliding into place like perfectly fitted puzzle pieces. The worst part is how much sense it all makes, how his twisted logic aligns with every stroke of good fortune I've had since catching his eye.

His cologne envelops me, a heady mix of sandalwood and something darker that makes my pulse race. The wall is cold against my back as Adrian's hand lands beside my head, the thud of his palm against the surface making me flinch. I'm trapped between his body and the wall, his presence overwhelming every sense.

"I admit to orchestrating our meeting, but every reaction, every connection between us is real." His voice carries that hypnotic quality that's drawn me in from the start, making me doubt my own convictions.

My anger starts to crumble as his other hand comes up, fingers tracing my jaw with a touch that's both claiming and tender. The contrast throws me off balance—this man who's manipulated my life for years now touching me like I'm something precious.

I catch a crack in his perfect control that makes my breath catch. There's vulnerability there, hidden beneath layers of power and calculation. It humanizes him in a way that's more dangerous than his dominance.

"You should have been honest," I whisper, but the fire has drained from my words. His proximity scrambles my thoughts, turning my righteous anger into a confused tangle of fear and want. The truth of his obsession should send me running, but instead it roots me to the spot. I'm caught in the gravity of his attention.

Adrian shifts closer, pressing his body against mine until I can feel the heat of him through my dress. His breath fans across my face as he murmurs, "Would you have given me a chance if I had?"

The question is loaded with dark implications about everything that's led us here, every opportunity, every moment I thought was fate but was actually his careful design. And I don't know the answer. I just know that everything has changed, and I don't know what to do.

"Wh-what now?" I whisper, breathing him in.

"Now you get punished."

Chapter 12

Adrian

I watch her, my eyes narrowing as I take in the fear and desire filling her head. Sophia knows—not everything, but she knows enough. I'm certain Mara told her. But it doesn't matter. She's still here, in my world, and I can see the want in her eyes.

I tighten my grip on her jaw, leaning closer until my lips hover over her ear.

"You're ungrateful," I growl. "After everything I've done for you, paying off your debts, funding your career, all you can do is insult me with your vulgar suggestions."

My hand closes around her throat, cutting off her breath and whatever response she tried to get out. As I pull away, her eyes widen, flashing with panic, but I can see the heat in them. She wants this.

"Do you know how easy it would be for me to crush your windpipe?" I ask with a low purr. "To take away your breath entirely?"

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