Page 51 of Undisputed Chaos
Had I misunderstood? Was the ribbon just a gift, not the symbol I'd taken it for?
The sky began to darken, painting my balcony in gold and rose. I leaned against the railing, watching the city lights blink on one by one.
As the last rays of sunlight faded, my phone finally chimed with a text notification. My heart warmed as I recognized the account name.
@AdrianCatalyst
Such a good angel. Tomorrow at noon. Wear the ribbon.
The message was simple, direct. I pressed the phone to my chest, feeling my heartbeat against my palm, steady and sure despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
I looked out over the city one last time, the ribbon a gentle embrace around my throat, the evening breeze cool against my flushed cheeks.
Tomorrow, everything will change. Tomorrow, I will be his completely.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Isla
My hands shook as I checked the time again.
11:58.
I was pacing barefoot on the hardwood, my breath feeling too quick, my skin alternately burning then icy, nerves splashing inside me in tides.
My blue dress clung tighter than I'd intended, making every inch of me feel more exposed, more seen, and the soft silk ribbon at my throat pressed like a promise.
I kept going to the mirror, fingers checking the bow, the embroidered “Adrian” pressing into my skin.
I straightened a vase, fluffing lilies that didn’t need it. I checked my phone—nothing. Pulled out lip gloss, put it away.
I wanted this so much—I wanted him so much.
I’d tried to distract myself by cleaning, arranging plates, and smoothing my dress. My thighs stuck to each other, and I’d blame the weather, but the truth was that my whole body was on fire.
I craved, Ineeded, the heat of Adrian’s hands, the burn of his gaze.
I kept picturing the way he’d looked at me in the club, that hungry, unashamed look that had seared down my spine and made me want things I’d never said out loud.
I’d barely slept, rolling in my sheets, wishing the pillows were his hands, his mouth.
My mind looped the same wicked what-ifs. What if he slams me back against the door? What if he bites down? What if the ribbon isn’t the only thing he’ll mark me with?
Then the doorbell rang.
I jumped, my heart in my throat. After almost two weeks of messages, tasks, and rewards, he was here.
My Adrian was here.
I smoothed my dress for the hundredth time, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and moved toward the door on legs that suddenly felt like water.
I opened it and collided with a force of nature.
Adrian filled the doorway like he was too big for this world. Six-foot-four of pure muscle and ink, messy brown hair slightly damp as if he'd just showered.
He wore black jeans that hugged his powerful thighs and a deep green button-up with the sleeves rolled to expose his forearms. The top three buttons were undone to reveal the tattoos that crawled up his neck and chest.
The shirt's color made his eyes even more vibrant, like dark emeralds catching fire. They burned, pinning me in place.
