Chapter 45: War in the Shadows

A Dangerous Invitation

The city was buzzing.

Damian Wolfe's press conference was everywhere. Every screen in Adrian's penthouse, every news outlet, every social media post—his rival's smirk taunted him.

Ella sat frozen, her heart hammering as she watched Damian step onto the stage. Dressed in a sleek black suit, his hair styled to perfection, he looked every bit the ruthless kingpin he was rumored to be.

He smiled at the flashing cameras, then leaned into the microphone.

"Good evening. I won't waste your time. I just want to clear the air… about a certain woman."

A murmur spread through the crowd.

Ella's fingers curled into fists.

Nathaniel cursed under his breath. "That bastard's about to set you up."

Adrian hadn't moved. He stood near the television, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But Ella could see the sharp clench of his jaw. He was seething.

Damian's voice was smooth, controlled. Lethal.

"You all saw the photos. I was at the hospital the same night as Mrs. Blackwood. And I'll admit it…" His lips curved into a smirk. "It wasn't a coincidence."

The reporters erupted. Questions were shouted, cameras clicked like gunfire.

Ella's stomach twisted.

"I have a history with Ella," Damian continued. "A history Adrian Blackwood never wanted you to know."

Adrian's control snapped.

He grabbed the remote and shut off the screen.

Silence.

Thick. Unbearable.

Ella felt lightheaded. "What the hell does he mean, 'a history'?" she demanded, turning to Adrian.

He didn't answer.

Because he already knew.

She saw it in his eyes—a shadow of something he'd been hiding.

A chill raced down her spine. "Adrian…"

Nathaniel rubbed a hand down his face. "I'll handle damage control."

"Don't," Adrian said, voice like steel. "Let him talk. Let him dig his own grave."

Ella couldn't breathe. Her past was being rewritten in front of the entire world, and Adrian was just standing there?

"You're letting him get away with this?" she snapped.

Adrian turned to her, his eyes cold. "No, I'm handling it my way."

She took a step closer, feeling a dangerous heat in her chest. "And what way is that?"

His silence was a warning.

Ella scoffed. "So, what? You'll destroy him in private? Play your little war games while I get dragged through the mud?"

His jaw ticked.

"I'm protecting you."

"No," she shot back. "You're protecting yourself."

Nathaniel inhaled sharply. "Maybe we should—"

Adrian's glare cut him off.

Ella held her ground. "If you really cared about protecting me, you'd tell me the truth."

A muscle in Adrian's cheek twitched.

The truth.

It was the one thing he refused to say.

 The Game Begins

The next evening, a black envelope arrived at Adrian's penthouse.

Hand-delivered.

Ella didn't touch it, but she knew who it was from before Adrian even opened it.

Damian.

She watched as Adrian slid out the elegant piece of card stock. His expression remained unreadable—but his grip on the paper tightened just enough for her to notice.

"What is it?" she asked.

Nathaniel whistled from over his shoulder. "Damn. He's bold."

Adrian tossed the card onto the table.

Ella read the words:

An Invitation.

Tomorrow night. 8 PM. Wolfe Manor.

Come alone.

Her stomach dropped.

Damian was calling him out.

"This is a trap," Nathaniel said.

Adrian's lips curved. "Of course, it is."

Ella's pulse raced. "You're not actually going, are you?"

Adrian met her gaze. "I have to."

"No, you don't," she argued. "He's baiting you, Adrian. He's trying to make you act on emotion."

Adrian leaned in slightly. "And you think I don't know that?"

Ella exhaled sharply. "Then don't give him what he wants."

"I won't," Adrian said.

His voice was calm, but there was something off about it—something dangerous.

Nathaniel sighed. "Guess I should get the security team prepped."

Adrian shook his head. "No security."

Nathaniel and Ella both froze.

"What?" Nathaniel frowned. "That's insane."

"It's what he expects," Adrian said simply.

Ella felt her heartbeat pound in her ears.

This was more than just business. More than just rivalry.

This was personal.

And she had the sinking feeling that tomorrow night—everything would change.