Liana's Apartment – The Chains of Temptation
The next morning, Liana stood by the window, watching the city stir to life. The skyline was painted in faint hues of orange and pink, but she felt none of its beauty.
Her eyes were heavy with sleeplessness, her thoughts clouded with confusion.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake off the weight of his words from the night before.
"I can still taste you, Liana."
"You can't escape me."
His voice still echoed in her ears, taunting her, making her skin prickle with heat. She clenched the fabric of her robe tightly around her, as if trying to shield herself from the invisible grip of his presence.
But even with the morning sun spilling through her window, she felt no warmth.
Only the lingering shadow of Adrian Sinclair.
Her phone buzzed again.
She stiffened, her heart instantly hammering in her chest.
Unknown Caller.
Her hands turned cold, but she forced herself to breathe.
She wasn't going to let him control her.
Not again.
With a trembling breath, she rejected the call, her finger lingering on the screen for a second longer than necessary.
But the moment she pulled her hand back, the phone buzzed again.
Another call.
From the same number.
Her hands curled into fists.
"Stop it…" she whispered under her breath.
She rejected it once more.
But this time, a message popped up.
Adrian:
You're making me very impatient, Liana.
Her stomach tightened.
Her fingers trembled over the screen, her throat tightening with a suffocating mix of frustration and dread.
But before she could respond, another message appeared.
Adrian:
Open your door.
Her breath caught.
Her eyes snapped toward the apartment door, and for a moment, she thought she imagined the faint knock echoing through the space.
But when she heard it again, louder this time, her blood ran cold.
Her bare feet were soundless against the wooden floor as she slowly approached the door, her pulse throbbing in her ears. She gripped the handle, hesitating.
Her fingers were trembling slightly when she slowly pulled it open.
And there he was.
Adrian Sinclair stood on her doorstep, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.
The morning light illuminated the sharp edges of his jaw, the piercing gray in his eyes darker than ever.
But it was the slight smirk on his lips that made her heart lurch violently in her chest.
As if he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
"Did you miss me?"
His voice was soft, dangerous.
She stumbled back slightly, but he caught her wrist before she could retreat.
His grip was firm, commanding, but not bruising.
Just enough to remind her that she couldn't run.
"How did you—?" she whispered breathlessly, her eyes wide with disbelief.
He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his tall frame towering over hers, crowding her space.
He shut the door behind him with a casual flick of his wrist, locking it.
"You should really stop rejecting my calls," he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.
"I don't take it very well."
Her throat tightened.
Her legs instinctively backed her away, but the wall halted her escape.
"You can't just—"
Her words were cut off by the press of his palm against the wall beside her head.
His body was close, too close.
His scent invaded her senses—a rich blend of spice and cedar, dark and sinful.
"I can do whatever I want," he whispered, his breath brushing against her lips.
"And you, Liana, belong to me."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Her palms pressed against his chest, but he didn't move.
"You're insane," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Her hands pressed harder, trying to push him away, but he caught them easily, trapping them above her head with one hand.
His eyes lowered to her parted lips, and his expression darkened with dangerous intent.
"Am I?" he rasped softly.
"Because you didn't seem to think so when you kissed me back last night."
Her breath caught.
His words were a dagger, sharp and taunting.
Her face flushed with anger and humiliation, but he only leaned in closer.
The warmth of his breath fanned against her cheek, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
"Tell me you didn't want me last night," he whispered darkly.
"Lie to me, Liana."
Her throat closed.
She couldn't say it.
Her lips parted, but the words wouldn't come.
Because it would be a lie.
And he knew it.
His lips grazed the side of her neck, and she sucked in a sharp breath.
Her hands clenched into fists, but she still couldn't move.
Her body betrayed her—her pulse quickening under his lips.
She hated him for it.
And she hated herself more.
---
The Sinclair Mansion – The Power Play
Meanwhile, back at the Sinclair Mansion, Elliot stood by the bar in the lounge, sipping his drink leisurely. His fingers toyed with the rim of the glass as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.
He smirked darkly.
"So predictable, brother…" he muttered under his breath.
His phone buzzed on the counter.
He glanced at it briefly.
Unknown Number:
"The board is ready. They're waiting for your move."
Elliot's eyes glimmered with cruel satisfaction.
He tossed back the rest of his drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Good," he murmured with a twisted smile.
"Let's see how long you can keep your empire standing, Adrian."
The game was just beginning.
And Elliot was ready to strike.
---
See you in next chapter.....