Part 138
The performance kept replaying in her head — that voice, that effortless grace, the way the crowd seemed to breathe only when he allowed it.
Liana had met countless men: politicians, heirs, artists, and foreign diplomats who all spoke as if their lives were made of marble and gold. But none of them had ever quieted the world around her like Adrian did.
The President's daughter wasn't used to fascination. She was used to control — to being the one people watched, not the one who watched. Yet since that gala, something had shifted.
Her tablet screen glowed in the dark of her private suite. Every headline was about him:
Adrian Return — A Voice That Defines a Generation.
The Idol Who Disappeared and Rose Again.
The President's Daughter Spotted Smiling at Adrian — Rumors Begin to Swirl!
She smirked at that last one. The press always reached faster than reality.
But this time, she didn't mind.
She leaned back on the silk couch, watching his latest music video for perhaps the fifth time. There was something about his eyes — something lonely hidden beneath all the light. She knew that look.
She'd seen it in herself.
People who lived in the public eye learned how to wear masks.
Maybe that's what drew her in — he understood it too.
When her assistant entered quietly with tea, Liana didn't look away from the screen.
"Get in touch with his management," she said smoothly.
The assistant hesitated. "You… want to book him, Miss Liana?"
Liana smiled faintly. "Not book. Invite. Personally."
The assistant nodded, nervous. "Understood."
When she was alone again, she turned the volume down and studied the paused frame — Adrian mid-song, eyes closed, lips parted like he was whispering something to the world.
"You'll sing for me one day," she murmured, echoing her words from that night. "And this time, you'll mean it."
Outside, the night city shimmered with power and promise.