Page 55 of His Dark Desires

"Youwhat?" His palm slaps the table, making me flinch. I never told him the full story, so I don't get why he's reacting so strongly.

"I didn't have a choice," I murmur, feeling like there's nothing else I can say.

Daniel runs his hands through his messy hair. "There's always a choice. You could have stayed with me or—"

The suggestion brings back flashes of our last encounter. I shift in my seat, the vinyl squeaking beneath me.

"That's not..." I shake my head. "Things are complicated now."

"Complicated?" Daniel scoffs. "He destroyed your career, and now you're living with him? That's not complicated, that's Stockholm syndrome."

My fingers clench around the mug. Daniel's concern might be genuine, but it doesn't erase how small he made me feel during our relationship, how he'd subtly undermine my work while praising his own. At least Adrian's manipulation is honest in its brutality.

"We just had a misunderstanding about the commission, that was all."

"No, I don't think it was," Daniel says firmly, convinced of something.

"What are you talking about?"

Daniel leans closer. "Listen, I've been talking to people. Gallery owners, tech journalists, other artists. The stories they tell about Adrian Vale..." He shakes his head. "His AI isn't just watching, it's changing things. Changing people."

My stomach knots. "What do you mean?"

"Remember Mario Bennett? That startup founder who was going to revolutionize data privacy?" Daniel's voice drops lower. "Three days before launching his company, his entire search history leaked. Every private message, every deleted email. He withdrew from the market. A week later, Adrian's company announced similar technology."

I wrap my arms around myself, remembering the wall of screens. "That could be a coincidence."

"What about Senator Williams? She was pushing for AI regulation until suddenly dropping the bill. No explanation." Daniel taps his fingers on the table. "Except my friend at the Times says her daughter's sealed juvenile records mysteriously appeared in her inbox that week."

The coffee turns even more bitter in my mouth.

"The Riverside Gallery collapse? They were Adrian's biggest competition in the digital art space. Their accounts showed perfect health until, overnight, every transaction from the past decade got flagged for fraud. The investigation found nothing, but by then..." He spreads his hands. "The damage was done."

My hands shake as I remember Adrian's words about protecting me, about keeping me safe. The way he spoke about Marina before her smear campaign started.

"His AI doesn't just collect data, Sophia. It weaponizes it. Personal secrets, financial records, private moments, all available to destroy someone when needed." Daniel reaches across the table but stops short of touching me. "And now you're living in his house, surrounded by his tech."

I think about my powered-off phone sitting in that drawer, wondering if it matters whether it's on or not. I think about the cameras I'd spotted in Adrian's penthouse, some disguised, some not. About how many of my own secrets those screens hold.

"The commission, the galleries refusing you, your reputation plummeting, none of that was coincidence," Daniel says. "It was algorithms and automation, breaking you down piece by piece until you had nowhere else to go."

I keep my face carefully blank as Daniel speaks, letting shock creep into my expression at appropriate moments. Inside, each revelation just confirms what I already discovered in that room full of screens. But Daniel can't know that; his ego would turn this into another chance to play savior.

"That's..." I swallow hard, making my voice crack. "Are you sure about all this?"

He squeezes my hand on the table. I pull back, pretending to reach for my coffee. His touch sends uncomfortable ripples through me, memories of fumbling desperation that only highlight how different things are with Adrian.

But Daniel's information about the AI system, that's worth something. If Adrian's power comes from data and algorithms, maybe there's a way to work within that framework, to carve out space for myself without breaking his rules completely.

"I need to process this," I say, wrapping my arms around myself. "It's a lot to take in."

"You can't go back there," Daniel insists. "It's not safe."

I shake my head. "I have a contract with him. The commission..." I purposely trail off. "I need time to figure things out carefully. I can't just run."

"Stay with me then. We can—"

"No," I cut him off, softening it with a wan smile. "Thank you, but I need to handle this my way. I'll be careful, I promise."

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