The thought made Elena's brows knit tighter as she swept the banquet hall again. And then—she spotted a familiar figure surrounded by several businessmen.
Gathering her gown, she hurried forward and squeezed through the crowd.
"Adrian, sorry to interrupt—may I?"
The executives blinked, irritated. Who is this clueless girl? Didn't she know that Adrian Sterling wasn't someone just anyone could approach?
But instead of brushing her off, Adrian glanced down at her with a lazy smile.
"Adrian? Elena, when did we become so formal?"
The men gawked. "Adrian… you know her?"
He tilted his glass, lips curving faintly.
"Mm. An old acquaintance. She's my sister's best friend. And also Lu—"
"Adrian!" Elena cut him off quickly, cheeks heating. Ignoring the puzzled stares around them, she blurted, "Did Mr. Sterling come tonight?"
Adrian pointed upstairs. "Third floor. Try there."
"Thank you."
With a nod, Elena hurried toward the staircase.
The businessmen exchanged wide-eyed looks.
"Mr. Sterling? She means that Mr. Sterling—Lucian Sterling of Aurore Group? He's here?"
Before Adrian could reply, one of them burst out, unable to hold back.
"I need to introduce myself to him!"
"Me too! I've been waiting for a chance to pitch him a deal."
"Mr. Sterling rarely shows up in public. We can't miss this opportunity."
They started after Elena, but Adrian stepped smoothly into their path, swirling the wine in his glass. His gaze was lazy, almost bored.
"Don't say I didn't warn you. Lucian's in a foul mood tonight. If you don't want to get yourselves killed, I'd stop right there."
The men froze. Everyone in Southville knew Lucian Sterling was cold and untouchable on a good day. On a bad one, whoever crossed him paid dearly. If he decided he disliked you, he could erase you from the city in a heartbeat.
Adrian's words were enough. One by one, they backed off, plastering on nervous smiles.
"You're right, Adrian—we weren't thinking. Thank you for the reminder."
"Come, let us toast you instead."
Adrian clinked his glass with theirs, lips still curved in a faint smile. But his eyes slid, almost absently, toward the stairwell and the slim figure already ascending.
The third floor was nearly deserted. Elena instinctively headed toward the quietest corner—exactly where she knew Lucian would be.
She'd been a fool earlier, searching the noisy hall downstairs. Lucian despised crowds.
"Lucian, what are you looking at? Why won't you talk to me?"
A woman's sweet, syrupy voice drifted from the terrace. Elena followed it—and froze.
Lucian sat back in a lounge chair, long legs crossed. One hand propped against his temple while the other idly flipped through a magazine resting on his knee.
Under the terrace lights, his dark hair gleamed with a blue-black sheen. His jacket hung carelessly over the chair, leaving him in a crisp white shirt. If not for the chill that clung to him like a second skin, he might have looked almost scholarly, at ease.
As he turned a page, the woman beside him seized the chance to curl into his lap.
"Let me read with you, hmm?" she cooed.
He didn't answer. He didn't push her away either, simply letting her cling to him. The scene looked almost peaceful. Almost intimate.
"Lucian, can we talk?"
Elena's soft voice shattered the illusion.
The woman stiffened, her eyes snapping up, sharp with hostility. "Lucian, who is she?"
He didn't even lift his eyes from the page. His tone was flat, dismissive.
"Don't know her."
The woman sneered. "Hear that? He doesn't know you. Now get—"
"Lucian, how can you put your clothes back on and pretend you don't know me?" Elena's laugh was soft, tinged with helplessness. She brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Was I that bad at pleasing you?"
Her voice dropped lower, teasing, yet edged with steel.
"But last night… you seemed to enjoy yourself plenty. You held me and called me your little baby, your sweetheart. You promised me forever, that you'd give me anything I wanted…"
The woman's face drained of color. "Y-you—how dare you say something so shameless!"
"Shameless?" Elena tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Isn't that what sweet nothings in bed are for?"
Without missing a beat, she crossed the terrace and slipped down between them, looping her arm through Lucian's. She even leaned her head playfully against his shoulder, flashing the woman a conspiratorial wink.
"Unless… you'd like to stay? We could both keep Lucian company tonight."
"You disgusting bitch!"
The woman stamped her heel hard enough to echo, tears welling, before storming off. The terrace fell silent, leaving only Elena and Lucian.
Almost immediately, Elena dropped his arm, her heart racing. She dared a glance at him—only to meet eyes that gleamed with laughter.
He was smiling. But that smile was colder, more terrifying, than any scowl.
Panic jolted through her. She lurched to her feet—only to be yanked back down, hard.
Lucian's hand clamped around her jaw, fingers digging in, forcing her gaze up to his. His smile lingered, his voice a low rasp that slid into her bones.
"Don't lose your nerve now, sweetheart. Tell me… what else did I say last night?"
Her eyelids fluttered. "L-Lucian—"
His grip tightened, pain shooting through her jaw, even as his tone turned deceptively gentle.
"Come on, Elena. Remind me. What sweet words did I whisper to you?"
Her name.
He hadn't called her that—not like this—in nearly eight years.
Once, it had sounded like honey. Now it cut like knives. Especially on his lips, spoken with fury, while her bones ground under his fingers.
"Lucian, please… don't. I—I didn't have a choice—"
Tears burned her eyes. "It was the only way… You tore the house down, I couldn't find you anywhere. I had no choice but to come here, to—"
"But you chased off my companion." His eyes flickered with cold amusement as he arched a brow. "How do you plan to make that up to me?"
Elena's breath hitched. "…How do you want me to?"