Chapter 65 – Beneath the Surface

The candlelight flickered, casting shadows along the chamber walls. Seraphina sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers still tingling from the remnants of Adrian's touch. His words echoed in her mind—Laurent carried out the act. But he was not the only one who wanted her dead.

She should have been afraid. The weight of the past was a shackle tightening around her throat. And yet, something inside her burned—not with fear, but with determination.

She would not let Adrian dictate the narrative. He had withheld truths from her, fed her only the pieces that served his purpose. No more.

If her father had known who truly ordered Evelyne Valemont's death, she needed to find proof.

And that proof lay in her father's study.

Her chest tightened. Everhart Manor was no longer hers to claim. The house had been abandoned after her father's disgrace, left to decay like a forgotten relic of his ruin. Returning there was dangerous. But what choice did she have?

A movement at the door snapped her out of her thoughts.

Adrian stood there, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up as if he had long abandoned the effort to maintain his usual control. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her with that unreadable intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

"You're plotting something," he murmured.

Seraphina lifted her chin. "I don't know what you mean."

His smirk was slow, knowing. He crossed the room in measured steps, stopping just before her. "You think I don't recognize the look in your eyes? It's the same one you wore when you threatened to carve out my heart."

A muscle in her jaw tensed. "Perhaps I should have followed through."

Adrian chuckled, but there was no amusement in his gaze. His fingers reached for a lock of her hair, twirling it between his fingers. "If you are planning something reckless, tell me now."

Her breath caught. If she let him in on her plan, he would try to stop her. Adrian did not trust easily, and he certainly did not trust her enough to let her take matters into her own hands.

But she could not allow him to control her fate.

"Not everything revolves around you, Adrian," she said, tilting her chin defiantly.

His gaze darkened. "You expect me to believe that, after the way you kissed me back?"

Heat rushed through her, but she refused to let him see the effect he had on her. "That was a mistake."

Adrian hummed in consideration, his fingers brushing along her jaw. "Perhaps. But one we'll make again."

Seraphina's pulse spiked, a treacherous thrill running through her.

"I don't have time for your games," she whispered.

"Then stop playing them," he countered.

Silence stretched between them, thick with everything unsaid.

And then, as if sensing the battle waging inside her, Adrian leaned in. His lips hovered just above hers, his breath warm against her skin.

"Tell me," he murmured.

Seraphina clenched her fists, willing herself to resist. "Goodnight, husband."

His smirk widened. "You think I'll let you go so easily?"

With one swift motion, he caught her wrist, pulling her flush against him. Her body betrayed her, melting into the warmth of his.

"Adrian," she warned.

"You drive me mad, Seraphina," he said, voice raw. "One moment you defy me, the next you kiss me as if you'd set the world on fire for me."

She swallowed, her heartbeat a frantic drum against her ribs. "And what do you want from me?"

Adrian's thumb brushed against her lower lip, his eyes darkening. "Everything."

The air grew thick with tension, and for a moment, she thought he would kiss her again.

But he didn't.

Instead, he released her, stepping back. "You will tell me what you're planning."

Seraphina met his gaze defiantly. "And if I don't?"

Adrian's smirk was all sharp edges. "Then I'll have to keep a very close eye on you, wife."

Her stomach flipped at the warning beneath his words.

She had to act fast.

Tomorrow, she would find a way to return to Everhart Manor.

With or without Adrian's knowledge.

Because if the truth lay hidden in her father's study, she would unearth it.

Even if it meant stepping into the lion's den.