FREYA’S POV

The reception hall was massive.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like frozen waterfalls. White flowers covered every surface. Round tables draped in silk surrounded a dance floor that reflected the light like ice. Everything screamed money. Old money. The kind that did not need to prove anything because everyone already knew.

Adrian’s hand was firm on my waist as we walked in. Every head turned. Conversations stopped mid sentence. Eyes tracked us across the room.

“They are staring,” I whispered.

“Let them.” His voice was low against my ear. “You look like you could buy this entire wedding. Act like it.”

A waiter appeared with champagne. Adrian took two glasses and handed me one. His fingers brushed mine. That same electric feeling shot up my arm.

“To revenge,” he murmured and raised his glass.

I clinked mine against his. “To revenge.”

The champagne was expensive. I could tell by the way it tasted like nothing I had ever had before. Smooth. Perfect. Probably cost more per bottle than I made in a week.

“Professor Metcalfe.”

We both turned. A man in his fifties approached us. Silver hair. Expensive suit. Cold gray eyes that reminded me of a snake.

Adrian’s hand tightened on my waist. “Asher.”

My stomach dropped. This was Kelvin’s father. The man Adrian had warned me about.

“I did not expect to see you here.” Asher’s smile did not reach his eyes. “I was not aware you knew the Brooks family.”

“I know many people.” Adrian’s voice was perfectly polite. Perfectly cold. “Asher Brooks, this is Freya Reed. My date.”

Asher’s eyes slid to me. Something flickered in them. Recognition maybe. Or calculation. “Miss Reed. How lovely to meet you.”

“You too.” The lie tasted bitter.

“Are you a student at the university?” Asher asked.

“She is.” Adrian answered before I could. “One of my brightest actually.”

“How nice.” Asher’s smile widened. “Kelvin mentioned he had a girlfriend who attended there. Small world.”

“Very small.” Adrian’s tone could have cut glass.

The two men stared at each other. The air between them felt thick. Dangerous. Like watching two animals size each other up before a fight.

“Well. Enjoy the evening.” Asher nodded and walked away.

I released a breath I did not know I was holding. “That was Kelvin’s father?”

“Yes.”

“He seems—”

“Dangerous. He is.” Adrian turned me toward the dance floor. “Come on. We need to be visible.”

“Visible?”

“That is the whole point. Remember?” His hand slid lower on my waist. Almost to my hip. “Making Kelvin suffer.”

He led me onto the dance floor just as the music shifted to something slow. His hand found mine. The other stayed on my waist. We started moving and I realized Adrian knew how to dance. Really dance. Not the awkward shuffling I was used to.

“Where did you learn this?” I asked.

“I am old fashioned.” His eyes were dark again. That same look from the penthouse. “There are a lot of things I could teach you.”

Heat crawled up my neck. “Adrian—”

“Yes?”

“You need to stop saying things like that.”

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” His hand slid lower. Right at the curve of my hip. “Or does it make you want things you should not want?”

Both. Definitely both.

I spotted Kelvin across the room. He was watching us. His jaw was tight. His hands were clenched at his sides. The woman next to him in the white dress must have been Vanessa. She was beautiful. Cold. She did not even look at Kelvin. Just stared at something across the room with bored eyes.

“He is watching,” I said quietly.

“Good.” Adrian pulled me closer. Our bodies were pressed together now. I could feel every hard line of him through the thin fabric of my dress. “Wave at him again.”

“What?”

“Smile. Wave. Make him think you are having the time of your life.”

I looked over Adrian’s shoulder and caught Kelvin’s eye. Gave him a bright smile. A little wave.

Kelvin’s face went red.

Adrian’s chest rumbled with a laugh. “Perfect. You are a natural at this.”

“At what? Torturing my ex?”

“At making men want what they cannot have.” His mouth was right by my ear now. “Every male in this room is watching you. Wishing they were me. Wishing they could touch you the way I am touching you.”

My breath caught. “You are doing this on purpose.”

“Obviously.” His hand squeezed my hip. “But I am also telling you the truth. You have no idea how beautiful you are. How desirable.”

“Stop.”

“Why? Because it makes you nervous? Because you are not used to a man telling you what you are worth?”

Yes. Exactly that.

The song ended. Adrian did not let me go. Just stood there holding me in the middle of the dance floor while people moved around us.

“Adrian. People are staring.”

“Let them stare.” But he finally released me. Took my hand instead. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

We moved to one of the tables. Food was laid out like art. Tiny perfect portions of things I could not name. Adrian filled a plate and handed it to me.

I was not hungry but I took it anyway. Picked at something that might have been fish.

That was when I started noticing things.

The way some of the guests moved. Too smooth. Too graceful. Like they were gliding instead of walking.

The way their eyes caught the light. Reflecting it back for just a second before going normal again.

The way they watched each other. And me. Especially me.

“Adrian.” I set down my plate. “Something feels wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“The people here. They are…” I could not find the words. “Different.”

His expression did not change but something flickered in his eyes. “Different how?”

“I do not know. Just different. The way they move. The way they look at things.” I rubbed my arms. “Is that crazy? Am I being paranoid?”

“No.” He took my hand. His grip was firm. “You are not crazy. Just observant. That is good. Keep watching. Tell me if anyone makes you uncomfortable.”

“Anyone?”

“Anyone besides me.”

Before I could respond someone called my name.

“Freya?”

I turned. Clara was walking toward us. She wore a dark blue dress and looked completely out of place. Her eyes were wide when she saw Adrian.

“Clara? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Her eyes darted between me and Adrian. “You came with Professor Metcalfe?”

“Yes. We—” I glanced at Adrian. “It is complicated.”

“Clearly.” Clara’s voice was sharp. She looked at Adrian. “Can I borrow her for a minute?”

“No.” Adrian’s tone left no room for argument.

“Excuse me?”

“I said no. Freya stays with me.”

Clara’s jaw tightened. “I just want to talk to my friend.”

“Then talk here.” Adrian pulled me against his side. Possessive. Commanding. “I am not letting her out of my sight.”

The two of them stared at each other. Some kind of silent communication passed between them that I did not understand.

Finally Clara looked at me. “Be careful. Please.”