The hotel’s private dining room was bathed in soft amber light, the chandeliers casting warm reflections across the polished table. Outside, the city pulsed faintly, distant and indifferent, while inside, the air felt taut, charged with unspoken tension.
Anna sat opposite Adrian, her fingers brushing the smooth edge of her wine glass, though she barely noticed the red liquid. Her thoughts were elsewhere, looping endlessly around Julian Mercer’s words, the small vial tucked into her purse like a dangerous heartbeat.
Adrian didn’t speak at first, just studied her. His gaze was quiet, sharp, the way it always made her feel exposed despite her careful control.
“You’ve been… distracted tonight,” he finally said, his voice low enough that only she could hear it.
Anna forced a faint smile
