Page 37 of The Beast's Broken Angel
In the car returning to Ravenswood, my simmering anger finally boiled over.
“Stay away from my sister,” I said, the words bursting out the moment the privacy partition closed behind Viktor's head. “She's not part of this arrangement.”
Adrian, who'd apparently been waiting in the car, raised an eyebrow at my outburst. “Your sister's treatment is central to our arrangement. Why wouldn't I take an interest in the investment?”
“Investment?” I spat the word. “She's a human being, not a stock option.”
“Everything's an investment, Noah. Time, money, attention. I don't expend these resources without expecting returns.”
“And what return are you expecting from Isabelle?” My voice rose despite my efforts to control it. “Because if you think you're going to use her to control me even more than you already do, you can go fuck yourself.”
The change in Adrian was instantaneous. One moment he was sitting across from me, the next he had me pinned against the privacy partition, his hand at my throat. Not squeezing, justholding me immobile with disturbing ease, his body pressed against mine in a way that sent confused signals racing through my system. Fear, yes, but something else too, something I desperately didn't want to acknowledge.
“Don't mistake my indulgence of your attitude for weakness,” he said softly, his face inches from mine, breath warm against my skin. “Your sister received my protection when you signed up with me. But that protection comes from me, which means I can visit her whenever I choose.”
His body was hard against mine, his scarred hand hot on my throat. I could feel his heartbeat, steady where mine raced. The threatening words contrasted with the almost intimate position, creating a disorienting confusion that left me breathless. My body betrayed me, responding to his proximity in ways that had nothing to do with fear.
“You're treading on dangerous ground,” Adrian continued, his voice dropping lower, almost a caress. “Push too far, and you might discover consequences beyond your imagining.”
“I'm not afraid of you,” I lied, the words coming out rougher than intended.
His smile was slow, predatory. “Yes, you are. But not only afraid, and that's what really disturbs you, isn't it?”
I couldn't deny it, not with my pulse hammering and heat flooding my veins despite the threat he represented.
Just as suddenly as he'd moved, Adrian released me and returned to his seat, straightening his tie with casual unconcern. I slumped back against the partition, trying to steady my breathing, to process what had just happened.
“Your sister is an exceptional artist,” Adrian remarked conversationally, as if he hadn't just had me pinned by the throat. “I wasn't exaggerating my interest in her work. I have contacts in several galleries that might be interested in showing her pieces.”
The whiplash change of subject left me reeling. “Why would you do that?”
“Perhaps I simply appreciate talent,” he replied with a shrug. “Or perhaps I understand that her success and independence matter to you, and by extension, now matter to me.”
I studied him, trying to decipher the complex calculations behind those mismatched eyes. Every action, every word seemed to serve multiple purposes, layers of manipulation and meaning I couldn't fully unravel.
“I don't understand you,” I admitted finally.
“You don't need to understand me, Noah.” His gaze held mine, intense and unreadable. “You just need to belong to me, as agreed. The rest will follow in time.”
The car pulled through Ravenswood's gates, the mansion looming ahead like a beautiful prison. I'd sold myself to a monster to save my sister, only to discover the monster was more complex, more human than I'd expected. And far, far more dangerous because of it.
Whatever game Adrian was playing, I was both pawn and prize. And the most terrifying part wasn't the violence I'd witnessed or the control he exerted.
It was the growing, undeniable awareness that some treacherous part of me was responding to him, drawn to the danger he represented like a moth to flame, even knowing I'd likely be consumed by it.
10
RIVAL CLAIMS
ADRIAN
The quarterly Calloway Holdings board meeting dragged on like a funeral procession, each minute spent listening to profit margins and market projections a minute wasted. But the legitimate face of my empire required maintenance, however mind-numbing the performance of normality.
Harrison stood at the front of the boardroom, laser pointer dancing across projected charts with practised showmanship. His silver hair caught the light, perfectly styled despite the early hour, his bespoke suit worth more than what most of these board members earned in a month. The very picture of corporate success, the mask so convincing most forgot it was just that—though I'd begun to suspect what lay beneath might be far darker than mere financial ambition.
“The Camden property acquisitions have been finalised,” Harrison announced—referring to the new retail development, not the residential project from my father's era. He slid glossy reports across the polished mahogany table, his manicured fingers lingering unnecessarily on the documents. The signetring on his left hand caught the light, the same ring I'd seen that night—gleaming as he pulled me from the flames, the memory now tainted by growing suspicions about his true loyalties.
Dominic had been investigating Harrison's possible connection to Thomas's betrayal, but the results remained frustratingly inconclusive. Harrison was too careful, too practised at covering his tracks. Twenty years as my family's financial advisor had taught him exactly how we operated, including how we detected rats in our organisation.
