A Game Beyond Cards

His eyes remained fixed on Valeria.

She stood across from him, her expression unreadable, the soft glow of the chandeliers casting a golden sheen over her skin.

Adrian leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers once against the table before reaching for his whiskey. He took a slow sip, letting the burn of the liquor coat his throat before he spoke.

"Tell me, Valeria," he murmured, his voice smooth, deliberate, "do you always surrender so easily?"

Her lips curled at the challenge.

"Surrender?" she echoed, tilting her head slightly. "Is that what you think happened?"

Adrian set his glass down, his blue eyes glinting with something dangerous. "I think you're too skilled to have lost by accident."

She let out a soft hum, trailing her fingers along the edge of the table as she considered his words. Then, with deliberate grace, she stepped closer.

"Maybe I wanted to see what kind of man you are when you win," she mused. "Victory can reveal more than defeat, don't you think?"

Adrian smirked. "And? What have you learned?"

She exhaled a soft breath, her gaze flickering over him in quiet appraisal. Then, instead of answering, she turned her attention to his whiskey glass, reaching for it with slow, deliberate intent. Without breaking eye contact, she brought it to her lips and took a sip.

Adrian's jaw ticked.

Valeria set the glass down, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "You prefer it neat. No distractions. No excess. Just the raw burn of control."

Adrian's smirk deepened. "You think you can read me?"

"I know I can," she murmured.

A challenge. A game beyond cards.

Adrian leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his voice dropping to something lower, something edged with curiosity.

"Then let's make it interesting."

She raised a brow. "Oh?"

He gestured to the bar tucked into the corner of the room, where the lighting was dimmer, more intimate. "One drink," he said. "Unless, of course, you're afraid you might lose again."

Her eyes gleamed.

Valeria stepped closer, the heat between them crackling like a live wire. She let a beat of silence stretch between them before she finally spoke—soft, teasing, but layered with something far more dangerous.

"I never lose, Adrian."

Then, without another word, she turned and walked toward the bar.

Adrian watched her go, a slow smirk pulling at his lips.

This time, she wasn't walking away from him.

This time, she was leading him exactly where she wanted.

And he followed.

Adrian followed Valeria toward the bar, the space dimly lit, more private—designed for whispered conversations and things left unsaid. The air carried the rich scent of aged whiskey and expensive perfume, the low murmur of other patrons blending into background noise.

Valeria slid onto the velvet stool with effortless grace, crossing one leg over the other. The high slit of her dress shifted, revealing smooth skin beneath the golden light. Adrian took the seat beside her, signaling the bartender with a flick of his wrist.

"Whiskey?" he asked, studying her with quiet amusement.

She tilted her head slightly, pretending to consider. "I think I'll have what you're having."

The bartender poured two glasses of amber liquid, and Valeria reached for hers, swirling the liquid before bringing it to her lips. She took a slow sip, letting the heat settle on her tongue.

Adrian watched her, his own glass untouched. "And?"

She set the drink down, meeting his gaze. "Strong. Smooth. A little dangerous." Her lips curled. "Like you."

Adrian let out a quiet chuckle, finally taking a sip of his own. "Flattery won't get you another win, printsessa."

She smirked, resting her elbow on the bar, her fingers toying with the rim of her glass. "Who said I was trying to win? Maybe I just enjoy playing the game."

Adrian turned slightly in his seat, angling his body toward her. "That's the difference between us, Valeria." His voice was low, edged with something dark. "I don't play unless I intend to win."

Her green eyes gleamed. "That sounds exhausting."

His smirk deepened. "That sounds like control."

She hummed, taking another sip. "Tell me something, Adrian." Her voice softened, teasing yet edged with curiosity. "Do you ever let yourself lose?"

Adrian's gaze flickered over her, down to the way her fingers traced her glass, then back up to the taunting challenge in her eyes.

"No," he murmured, voice dark with certainty.

Valeria leaned in slightly, her perfume curling in the air between them. "Pity," she whispered. "Sometimes losing can be just as thrilling as winning."

Adrian exhaled a quiet chuckle, shifting closer. His fingers reached out, skimming along the edge of her wrist, the barest touch, just enough to test, to tempt.

"I think you and I have very different definitions of losing," he mused.

She arched a brow. "Do we?"

Their gazes locked.

The space between them tightened, the air charged with something electric, something neither of them acknowledged—but both felt.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then Adrian lifted his glass, watching her over the rim as he took a slow, deliberate sip. "Careful, Valeria," he murmured, voice a quiet warning. "You might just make me want to keep playing."

Valeria smirked, her gaze flickering to his lips before meeting his eyes again.

"Oh, Adrian," she whispered, her voice laced with something dangerous.

"That's the point."