With a quiet breath,Adrian shifted—his hands gliding down to the curve of her waist,then lower,lifting her gently but firmly into a new angle that made the world tilt with it. Emily gasped,her breath hitching as the sensation changed,intensified. Her hands clutched at the sheets,knuckles white with the effort to stay grounded,even as her body responded with a helpless urgency she couldn't contain. Each motion sent a ripple through her—low and aching,centered deep in her core,radiating outward like heat curling through her spine.Her lower belly tightened instinctively,muscles fluttering under the rhythm he set,as though every part of her was tuned only to him. She felt her lower abdomen pumping rhythmically. She could barely think.Could barely breathe. It wasn’t just the way he moved—it was the way he held her,the way he breathed her in,as if she were something he had longed for in silence and now finally held in both hands. Her name left his lips like a prayer—raw and
The room was dark and quiet, save for the soft sound of Emily’s breathing. She had drifted into sleep, her body curled gently against Adrian, her cheek resting on his arm. He watched her for a long moment, her features softened by exhaustion and the glow of the moonlight.Carefully, he slid out from under her without waking her.He pulled the covers over her exposed shoulders, tucking them in with a tenderness that came from somewhere deep inside.Then he stepped out of the room, walking silently down the hall to his study. The city lights spilled in through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the sleek furniture.Adrian picked up his phone and dialed a number.The line clicked.“Mr. Blackwood,” came the voice on the other end. “Any further action on the A Design security breach?”Adrian’s voice was low, clipped. “Continue the investigation. I want a full report on every vulnerability. Especially the ones Mike tried to cover up.”There was a pause, then: “Understood. Should
Emily returned from the bathroom with her damp hair tucked behind her ears, a towel draped loosely around her neck. When she stepped into the bedroom, she paused. The small breakfast table near the window had already been set. A silver tray held a bowl of warm congee, a few side dishes, and a cup of ginger tea, still steaming. Adrian was seated nearby, scrolling through his tablet with casual ease. She blinked, surprised.“You…set this up?” He looked up, his expression calm.“I asked the kitchen to bring it up.” Emily hesitated, then smiled faintly.“Thank you.” Adrian nodded. Then, as if remembering something, he added,“By the way, your phone rang while you were gone. I answered—it was someone named Claire? She said she’s from your design team.” Emily froze for a half-second, then relaxed and picked up her spoon.“Oh, Claire. She’s nice. Did she say anything?” Adrian leaned back slightly, watching her reaction—maybe expecting more. But when she stayed composed, he onl
Emily lay on his side, the soft hush of the evening wrapping around the room. The shadows on the ceiling shifted gently as the breeze moved through the curtains. She hadn’t spoken in a while. Adrian, lying beside her, finally broke the silence. “You’re still awake,”he said quietly. Emily hesitated.“I’m just…thinking.” “About?” She turned her head slightly, catching the faint outline of his profile in the dim light.“Us,”she admitted, voice barely audible. For a beat, he didn’t respond. Then—“I see.” “I mean…”she searched for the words.“It’s just…things feel different now. We’re still pretending, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like pretending.” Adrian’s gaze remained steady, though his voice dropped just a touch.“It doesn’t feel like it to me either.” Her breath caught, her heartbeat fluttering in the silence that followed. Then he shifted slightly, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. His fingers lingered, soft and warm. She shifted sli
The orgasm crashed through her like a riptide, wringing a broken cry from her throat. Adrian gentled her through it, his mouth softening but not stopping until she pushed weakly at his shoulders. As she floated back to awareness, she felt him press a kiss to her damp stomach before shifting up to gather her against his chest. Her cheek landed on his pounding heartbeat. Neither of them spoke for a long time. "Sleep,"he said, tucking the covers around them both. His voice was rough, his body still visibly aroused beneath the sheets, but his arms around her were firm. Emily traced idle patterns on his collarbone."What about you—" His fingers laced through hers, bringing her hand to his lips."This wasn't about me." The room had long since settled into a heavy hush, the air warm with the remnants of shared heat. Emily lay still, her head on his shoulder, but sleep didn’t come. She couldn’t stop thin
“I thought about it.”Adrian’s voice was low, his jaw tight. His gaze dropped for a second, shadowed with something unreadable.“But after five years…I still can’t watch her end up with someone else.” His mother’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing. Not yet. Adrian exhaled, slow and steady.“It was at that summit in Geneva. I overheard Mike—bragging to someone about how, once they were married, he’d have Emily transfer all her shares to him. Said it was for her own good. So she could stay home, stop worrying about work.” He gave a bitter smile. “Like she was just some pretty accessory to keep on a shelf.” His mother’s silence deepened. There was no judgment in her face, only calculation—and perhaps, the faintest trace of sympathy. “I asked Lila,”Adrian continued,“and she told me they’d already argued over it. Emily didn’t want to give up her work, her independence. But Mike didn’t care.” His gaze lifted, sharp again. “There’s a saying in business—timing
Emily froze for a second, caught off guard by the question.Adrian’s mother had shifted her gaze—not just to Emily’s bare finger, but then to Adrian’s hand as well.No ring.Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You two got married and didn’t bother with rings?”Emily’s heart gave a faint stutter.In a flash, her mind flew back to that quiet little chapel, to the ring Adrian had handed her that day.She hadn’t even thought to bring it with her when she moved into his home. Maybe, deep down, she hadn’t wanted to pretend more than necessary. After all, this wasn’t real. It wasn’t supposed to be real.But now, under the scrutiny of Adrian’s mother, it felt like a glaring omission.Especially in a world like theirs—where a wedding ring wasn’t just a symbol of love, but a silent boundary, a social shield.Before she could scramble for an excuse, Adrian spoke up smoothly.“Emily’s designing our rings,” he said, tone calm and sure. “She’s putting a lot of thought into it. Once they’re ready, we’ll we
She wanted to ask Adrian what style he liked—what kind of design he imagined wearing every day.But the question caught in her throat.What if he hadn’t meant it? And what if he’d just said that to pacify his mother?What if he didn’t care? That thought dropped into her stomach like a stone. Adrian’s mother stood from the sofa with a soft smile,announcing that she needed to rest and recover from jet lag.“Your father will arrive tonight,”she said,stretching slightly.“We’ll have dinner together,all of us.” Emily nodded and watched her disappear down the hall. She turned to go upstairs,already reaching for the railing—when Adrian’s voice stopped her. “Don’t you have something you want to ask me?” She paused,glancing back at him.“About the wedding rings?” He arched an eyebrow,as if amused by her hesitation.“Mm.&
Their expressions shifted almost instantly.“What is it?” Emily asked, watching them trade sharp glances.Adrian’s mother frowned, turning the phone so Adrian could see. “Some celebrity nonsense.”Adrian’s brows furrowed as he read the screen.“Apparently a well-known actress posted a photo of me on her social media,” he said, voice flat.Emily blinked. “You?”He turned his phone to show her.It was a candid shot—Adrian’s profile, taken from across a restaurant terrace. The caption beneath it read:The view here is amazing.Her fans had already flooded the comments.“Is that your boyfriend?”“That’s Adrian Blackwood from E International!”“When did this happen?!”Emily stared, then let out a short laugh. “You don’t even know her, do you?”Adrian shook his head. “Never met her.”“Well… I mean, that was the day we got married,” Emily added lightly. “So unless sh
Upstairs, Emily face was warm. Her chest was tight.And she felt… awkward.Awkward, because she couldn’t understand why she cared so much. Why her first instinct had been to ask about Adrian’s past. Why it mattered so much whether there had been someone else.People had histories. She did too.And this wasn’t even a real marriage.Except…Except they’d shared things in the last few days that went far beyond their agreement.She touched her lips lightly, remembering how he’d kissed her.Remembering the way he had looked at her.And suddenly, everything felt very… complicated.Two hours later, the first draft was finally done.Emily sat back in her chair, exhaling slowly as she looked at the sketch on her screen. She tapped her fingers lightly against the edge of the tablet, then snapped a screenshot.The women’s ring featured twenty-five round b
She wanted to ask Adrian what style he liked—what kind of design he imagined wearing every day.But the question caught in her throat.What if he hadn’t meant it? And what if he’d just said that to pacify his mother?What if he didn’t care? That thought dropped into her stomach like a stone. Adrian’s mother stood from the sofa with a soft smile,announcing that she needed to rest and recover from jet lag.“Your father will arrive tonight,”she said,stretching slightly.“We’ll have dinner together,all of us.” Emily nodded and watched her disappear down the hall. She turned to go upstairs,already reaching for the railing—when Adrian’s voice stopped her. “Don’t you have something you want to ask me?” She paused,glancing back at him.“About the wedding rings?” He arched an eyebrow,as if amused by her hesitation.“Mm.&
Emily froze for a second, caught off guard by the question.Adrian’s mother had shifted her gaze—not just to Emily’s bare finger, but then to Adrian’s hand as well.No ring.Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You two got married and didn’t bother with rings?”Emily’s heart gave a faint stutter.In a flash, her mind flew back to that quiet little chapel, to the ring Adrian had handed her that day.She hadn’t even thought to bring it with her when she moved into his home. Maybe, deep down, she hadn’t wanted to pretend more than necessary. After all, this wasn’t real. It wasn’t supposed to be real.But now, under the scrutiny of Adrian’s mother, it felt like a glaring omission.Especially in a world like theirs—where a wedding ring wasn’t just a symbol of love, but a silent boundary, a social shield.Before she could scramble for an excuse, Adrian spoke up smoothly.“Emily’s designing our rings,” he said, tone calm and sure. “She’s putting a lot of thought into it. Once they’re ready, we’ll we
“I thought about it.”Adrian’s voice was low, his jaw tight. His gaze dropped for a second, shadowed with something unreadable.“But after five years…I still can’t watch her end up with someone else.” His mother’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing. Not yet. Adrian exhaled, slow and steady.“It was at that summit in Geneva. I overheard Mike—bragging to someone about how, once they were married, he’d have Emily transfer all her shares to him. Said it was for her own good. So she could stay home, stop worrying about work.” He gave a bitter smile. “Like she was just some pretty accessory to keep on a shelf.” His mother’s silence deepened. There was no judgment in her face, only calculation—and perhaps, the faintest trace of sympathy. “I asked Lila,”Adrian continued,“and she told me they’d already argued over it. Emily didn’t want to give up her work, her independence. But Mike didn’t care.” His gaze lifted, sharp again. “There’s a saying in business—timing
The orgasm crashed through her like a riptide, wringing a broken cry from her throat. Adrian gentled her through it, his mouth softening but not stopping until she pushed weakly at his shoulders. As she floated back to awareness, she felt him press a kiss to her damp stomach before shifting up to gather her against his chest. Her cheek landed on his pounding heartbeat. Neither of them spoke for a long time. "Sleep,"he said, tucking the covers around them both. His voice was rough, his body still visibly aroused beneath the sheets, but his arms around her were firm. Emily traced idle patterns on his collarbone."What about you—" His fingers laced through hers, bringing her hand to his lips."This wasn't about me." The room had long since settled into a heavy hush, the air warm with the remnants of shared heat. Emily lay still, her head on his shoulder, but sleep didn’t come. She couldn’t stop thin
Emily lay on his side, the soft hush of the evening wrapping around the room. The shadows on the ceiling shifted gently as the breeze moved through the curtains. She hadn’t spoken in a while. Adrian, lying beside her, finally broke the silence. “You’re still awake,”he said quietly. Emily hesitated.“I’m just…thinking.” “About?” She turned her head slightly, catching the faint outline of his profile in the dim light.“Us,”she admitted, voice barely audible. For a beat, he didn’t respond. Then—“I see.” “I mean…”she searched for the words.“It’s just…things feel different now. We’re still pretending, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like pretending.” Adrian’s gaze remained steady, though his voice dropped just a touch.“It doesn’t feel like it to me either.” Her breath caught, her heartbeat fluttering in the silence that followed. Then he shifted slightly, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. His fingers lingered, soft and warm. She shifted sli
Emily returned from the bathroom with her damp hair tucked behind her ears, a towel draped loosely around her neck. When she stepped into the bedroom, she paused. The small breakfast table near the window had already been set. A silver tray held a bowl of warm congee, a few side dishes, and a cup of ginger tea, still steaming. Adrian was seated nearby, scrolling through his tablet with casual ease. She blinked, surprised.“You…set this up?” He looked up, his expression calm.“I asked the kitchen to bring it up.” Emily hesitated, then smiled faintly.“Thank you.” Adrian nodded. Then, as if remembering something, he added,“By the way, your phone rang while you were gone. I answered—it was someone named Claire? She said she’s from your design team.” Emily froze for a half-second, then relaxed and picked up her spoon.“Oh, Claire. She’s nice. Did she say anything?” Adrian leaned back slightly, watching her reaction—maybe expecting more. But when she stayed composed, he onl
The room was dark and quiet, save for the soft sound of Emily’s breathing. She had drifted into sleep, her body curled gently against Adrian, her cheek resting on his arm. He watched her for a long moment, her features softened by exhaustion and the glow of the moonlight.Carefully, he slid out from under her without waking her.He pulled the covers over her exposed shoulders, tucking them in with a tenderness that came from somewhere deep inside.Then he stepped out of the room, walking silently down the hall to his study. The city lights spilled in through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the sleek furniture.Adrian picked up his phone and dialed a number.The line clicked.“Mr. Blackwood,” came the voice on the other end. “Any further action on the A Design security breach?”Adrian’s voice was low, clipped. “Continue the investigation. I want a full report on every vulnerability. Especially the ones Mike tried to cover up.”There was a pause, then: “Understood. Should