đź“– Bound by Fate, Tied by Love
🌹 Chapter 4: Sparks in the Shadows
The ballroom glittered like a jewel, golden chandeliers spilling light across silk-draped tables and marble floors polished to perfection. Every corner echoed with the clinking of crystal glasses, soft laughter, and the quiet rustle of designer gowns brushing against velvet carpets.
But to Isabella, the air felt heavy. Suffocating.
She stood rooted to Adrian's side, her smile practiced, her hand locked tightly in his as though it was the only anchor keeping her upright. Her pulse hammered as Chloe's perfume lingered in the air—sharp, intoxicating, and laced with malice.
Chloe's painted smile didn't falter. "Adrian," she said smoothly, her voice a silken blade, "you do move quickly. I'm almost impressed. Marriage, though? From the man who swore commitment wasn't in his vocabulary?"
The small circle of guests fell into sudden silence, eyes darting between them like predators smelling blood. Isabella felt the stares piercing her skin, their curiosity heavy with judgment.
Adrian's jaw tightened, the line of his mouth sharp and unyielding. "People change," he said coldly.
Chloe's gaze flicked toward Isabella, slow and deliberate. "Do they? Or do they just wear prettier masks?" She leaned forward slightly, her diamond earrings catching the light. "I wonder if your fiancée knows the man behind yours."
Heat flared in Isabella's cheeks, but she forced her lips into a soft smile. Her voice came steady, though her insides quaked. "Every man has a past," she said calmly. "But it's the choices he makes today that matter."
A faint hush swept over the group.
For a heartbeat, Chloe's smile faltered, her eyes narrowing before she released a soft, brittle laugh. "Adorable," she purred. "Let's hope you keep that confidence, dear. You'll need it."
She raised her champagne flute in a mocking toast before turning away, her red dress swaying like a flame cutting through the ballroom crowd. The circle dissolved, whispers following her trail like smoke.
Isabella let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her fingers trembled slightly, still wrapped around Adrian's.
"Who was she?" she whispered.
Adrian's gray eyes met hers briefly, unreadable, then slid away. "No one you need to worry about."
"No one?" Isabella's brow arched, her voice low but insistent. "That didn't feel like no one. She looked at you like—" She broke off, uncertain if she wanted to finish the thought.
His lips pressed into a thin line. For a flicker of a moment, something—regret, anger, pain—flashed in his gaze, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Let it go," he said firmly.
Her chest tightened. His words were a wall, tall and unmovable. But walls always hid something.
Before she could push further, a waiter appeared with a tray of champagne. Adrian plucked two glasses with ease, handing one to her.
"Drink," he murmured, his voice softer now. "It will calm your nerves."
She hesitated, then accepted. Her fingers brushed against his, and the warmth of his touch sent an unexpected shiver up her arm. She sipped, the crisp liquid fizzing against her tongue, though it did little to steady the storm inside her.
Adrian's gaze lingered on her. "You handled Chloe well," he admitted quietly, almost as though the words pained him. "She thrives on intimidation. You didn't give her the satisfaction."
Isabella blinked at him. "Was that… a compliment?"
His mouth twitched, the faintest suggestion of a smile ghosting his lips. "Don't let it go to your head."
Before she could retort, a voice boomed across the ballroom.
"Cole!"
A tall, broad man strode toward them, his presence commanding attention. He was flanked by two others, both carrying themselves with the polished confidence of men used to power. The crowd subtly shifted to make space, and Isabella noticed how quickly the air seemed to change—curiosity melting into respect.
The man clapped Adrian on the shoulder, his laugh deep, though his eyes were sharp. "Always a surprise where I'll see you next." His gaze flicked to Isabella, pausing with interest. "And who's this?"
Adrian's hand pressed firmly at the small of her back. "My fiancée," he said smoothly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "Isabella Reed."
The man's eyebrows lifted. "Fiancée? Well, well. You finally chose someone to tame you?" He extended a hand to Isabella.
Her palm was slightly damp, but she forced herself to meet his grip with a polite smile. "It's a pleasure."
His grip was firm, his eyes assessing, as though weighing her worth with a single glance. "Likewise. Adrian doesn't introduce just anyone. That alone says much."
Isabella's nerves tightened, but Adrian leaned closer, his voice brushing her ear in a tone that only she could hear.
"Stay close to me tonight," he murmured. "No matter what."
The words sent a shiver down her spine. Not because of the warning in them—but because of the way they sounded less like a command and more like a plea.
Her mind spun. Who was Chloe to Adrian? Why did he look at her with such tension? And now, who were these powerful men demanding his attention?
The ballroom glittered on, laughter spilling like champagne, but Isabella knew one thing with bone-deep certainty—she had stepped into a world where secrets hid behind every smile.
And Adrian Cole's secrets were the most dangerous of all.