The car ride home was suffocatingly quiet. Lena sat stiffly in the leather seat, her hands clasped around her bag, while Adrian scrolled through his phone as though the world outside didn't exist.
Her mind replayed the boardroom scene on a loop—the smirks, the whispers, the way she'd felt like a trespasser in his world. Even now, her chest ached with humiliation.
She finally broke the silence.
"You shouldn't have brought me there."
Adrian didn't look up. "I told you, they needed to see you."
"And what did they see?" Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to hold steady. "A nobody in a borrowed dress. They laughed at me, Adrian. I don't belong in your world."
That made him pause. Slowly, he lowered his phone and turned to face her. His gaze was sharp, unreadable, but not cruel. "Do you think their opinion matters to me?"
"Yes." Her answer was immediate, bitter. "You live for power and reputation. Every move you make is calculated. So don't tell me their whispers mean nothing."
For a moment, silence thickened between them. The city lights streaked past the windows, shadows painting his face in angles that seemed both distant and impossibly close.
Then he said, low and steady, "They don't laugh at you, Lena. They envy you."
Her breath caught. "Envy me?"
"You're the one thing they can't control. The one thing they can't predict. They hate that you're here without their permission." His lips curved—not quite a smile, but something softer than his usual mask. "That's why they whisper."
Lena stared at him, heart stumbling. She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but the conviction in his voice left her speechless.
When they arrived at the penthouse, she stepped out quickly, desperate for air. But as she moved, her heel caught on the curb.
She gasped, stumbling forward—only to feel a strong hand clamp around her wrist, steadying her before she hit the ground.
The world narrowed to the heat of his grip. Adrian's hand was firm, protective, and for the briefest moment, their faces were inches apart. His cologne—sharp, clean, expensive—wrapped around her like a whisper of something forbidden.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
Adrian's gaze locked with hers, dark and unyielding. For once, he didn't look cold. He looked… human.
Then, as quickly as it happened, he released her. "Be careful," he said curtly, stepping back as though nothing had passed between them.
But Lena's wrist still tingled where he'd touched her. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a man buried beneath the ice.