Chapter Ten

The next evening came too quickly, the hours slipping through Sarah's fingers like sand, too fast to grasp, too heavy to hold. She stood in front of a full-length mirror, gazing at a reflection she barely recognized. The dress Adrian had sent was an elegant masterpiece—midnight black, cut to fit her like a second skin, plunging in the front with thin straps that made her feel more exposed than she ever had before. Its simplicity was a trap, a calculated allure meant to dazzle and distract, but Sarah couldn't help feeling that it wasn't just a dress; it was a cage, designed to ensnare her in Adrian's world.

There was a knock at the door. She turned, her heart leaping into her throat as a tall man in a dark suit stepped inside. His expression was blank, all business. "It's time," he said, his voice curt and emotionless. "Mr. DeLuca is waiting."

Sarah's hands trembled as she gathered her courage. She knew tonight would be a test. Adrian wanted to see how far she could be pushed, how well she would play the part of the perfect puppet. She was determined not to break, but the pit in her stomach told her that she was on the edge of something far darker than she had ever imagined.

As she descended the grand staircase of Adrian's mansion, the sound of muffled conversations and soft music reached her ears. The gathering was already in full swing. The air felt thick with power, tension simmering beneath the surface like a coiled snake ready to strike. Her mind raced, trying to anticipate what Adrian expected of her, but all she had was the vague promise of her father's safety. A cruel bargain, but it was the only card she had to play.

At the bottom of the stairs, Adrian waited, his sharp suit immaculately tailored, his dark hair slicked back with the same precision he applied to everything. His eyes swept over her like a predator surveying its prey, and a satisfied smile curved his lips. "Perfect," he said, stepping forward to take her hand. His touch sent a chill through her, a reminder of the unspoken power he wielded. "You look... exactly how I imagined."

Sarah forced herself to hold his gaze, though every instinct screamed at her to look away. "What happens now?"

Adrian's eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "You smile, Sarah. You act like you belong here. And if anyone asks, you say you're with me. Understand?"

She nodded, though her stomach churned with unease. She didn't belong in this world of shadows and secrets, but Adrian had made it clear that her survival—and her father's—depended on how well she played her role.

They stepped into the room together, and the air shifted as eyes turned their way. Adrian's grip on her hand was firm, possessive, as if to show the room that she was his to command. She could feel the weight of those stares, some curious, others cold, but she kept her face composed, determined not to falter.

"Ah, Adrian," came a voice from across the room. A man with silver hair and a sharp smile approached, his eyes lingering on Sarah for just a moment too long. "I see you've brought a new guest."

"This is Sarah," Adrian said smoothly, his tone dripping with unspoken meaning. "She's... very special to me."

The man's gaze flickered with understanding, but he said nothing, simply extending a hand toward Sarah. "Pleasure to meet you."

Sarah forced a smile and shook his hand, though her skin crawled at the way he looked at her, like she was a commodity to be appraised. The conversation moved on quickly, Adrian and the man exchanging cryptic words about shipments and territory, but Sarah wasn't listening. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the crowd—men in tailored suits, women in glittering gowns, all of them wrapped in a web of power and deception. This wasn't just a gathering. It was a battleground, and Adrian was its reigning king.

But beneath the polished exterior, there was an undercurrent of tension, a quiet unease that Sarah couldn't quite place. She could see it in the way people glanced at Adrian, a mixture of fear and respect that told her this world was more dangerous than she had realized.

As the evening wore on, Sarah played her part, standing at Adrian's side, nodding at the right moments, forcing herself to smile even as her insides twisted with dread. But the longer she stayed, the more she realized that something was wrong. She couldn't shake the feeling that this night wasn't just about proving herself to Adrian. There was something else happening, something she wasn't seeing.

Just as she was about to pull Adrian aside and ask, the doors at the far end of the room burst open. Two of Adrian's men rushed in, their faces grim.

"Mr. DeLuca," one of them said, his voice low but urgent. "We have a problem."

Adrian's expression darkened instantly. He released Sarah's hand and turned to the men, his voice cold and sharp. "What is it?"

The man hesitated for a moment, glancing at Sarah before speaking. "It's... about Antonio."

Sarah's heart stopped. Antonio. She had tried not to think about what Adrian's men had done to him after they dragged him away, but now the reality was crashing down around her.

"What about him?" Adrian asked, his voice a dangerous whisper.

"He's escaped."