Fatal Attraction
770 Words
Evan stood beneath the blazing lights, feeling like nothing more than an exhibit on display. Eyes pierced him from every direction—curiosity, envy, judgment—crushing the air from his lungs. His chest ached under the invisible weight until the domineering force finally released his lips.
Adrian looked down at him, gaze colder than a frozen lake in winter. His lips pressed into a hard line, his voice low and sharp, edged with mockery:
"That's all you've got?"
The words cut deep, like a blade sliding straight into Evan's chest. His cheeks burned, his stomach twisted, but he forced himself not to flinch. Somehow, the rest of the ceremony passed without disaster.
Then Adrian took his hand, leading him through the crowd to greet the guests one by one.
"Mr. Blackwell, such sharp eyes."
"A marriage of power—Blackwell and Lawrence. Together, unstoppable."
Evan's smile was stiff, his palm slick with sweat. He could feel the dry, firm weight of Adrian's grip, steady and alien against his own.
The system chimed in his head:
[World Expansion.]
[Blackwell family: One of the most powerful dynasties in North America, controlling finance, real estate, and arms.]
[Reason for marriage: To suppress their rival, the Lawrence family.]
[Host identity: A stand-in. A sacrifice.]
Ice flooded Evan's chest. He tipped back a glass of champagne and downed it in one go.
What a joke of a marriage.
At last, the night ended. They rode back in silence.
The car was quiet, broken only by the flash of streetlights cutting across Adrian's sharp profile. He leaned lazily against the seat, long fingers tapping idly against the door, wrist bones stark under pale skin. His suit fit like a second skin—broad shoulders, tapered waist, the fluid line of a predator at rest.
"I'm not interested in you. Don't test me. Behave." His voice was ice, final and cold.
Evan lowered his head, murmuring a meek "Okay."
But in his chest, he laughed bitterly:
First time in my life I'm supposed to 'seduce' a man. Joke's on me—I don't even know how.
Exhaustion dragged him under, and he drifted into sleep.
But Adrian's gaze lingered. The boy's profile was clean and stubborn—fair skin, a straight nose, lips pressed tight in defiance. Adrian's throat worked, an involuntary thought flashing through his mind:
Not bad. And at the wedding... his lips were softer than I expected.
In the next heartbeat, his expression froze over again, unreadable, untouched.
The car rolled through the gates of Blackwell Manor.
The iron doors creaked open like the jaws of some sleeping beast. The lawn stretched wide beneath the night breeze, fountains shrouded in silver mist. The mansion rose stark and pale, like an old castle—arched ceilings carved with detail, towering windows reflecting a cold, lifeless light.
Inside, gold and marble clashed, chandeliers blazing. The fireplace stood dark and empty. It was grandeur without warmth.
This isn't a home, Evan thought, a chill running down his back. It's a gilded cage.
He had barely reached the bed when his chest tightened.
Heat burst through his veins like wildfire, climbing fast, consuming faster.
He staggered against the wall, sweat pouring down his face, pupils blown wide. His fingers shook, his body seizing, burning alive from the inside out.
No... something's wrong—
"Shit... it's the drug?!"
The system's voice rang, merciless and cold:
[Warning: Host's system has detected active foreign substance.]
[Inference: Host has been sabotaged by an unknown hand.]
Evan's legs buckled, his breath ragged. A broken whisper tore from his throat:
Fuck... someone help me—
The door clicked open.
Adrian filled the doorway, his shadow stretching long under the hall light, his presence pressing like a storm.
His eyes raked over Evan's flushed face, his trembling body. His lips curled, a mocking smile cutting deep.
"A wedding-night surprise? Did you really think cheap tricks like this would make me want you?"
Evan lifted his head in despair.
The man stood in silhouette, sculpted by shadow and light. His suit carved every line of his body into sharp definition—broad shoulders, a lean waist, long legs straining the tailored fabric at the thighs, hinting at coiled strength beneath.
His brows were cut sharp, his nose straight, his gaze as dark and lethal as blades drawn in the night. Those thin lips pressed tight—then lifted, faint and cruel, like a predator smiling before the kill.
Evan's throat bobbed, heat fogging his mind, his body betraying him. Only one thought rang clear—
Why... why does this man suddenly feel so dangerously attractive?
- Writer
