Chapter 5 ~ A Dangerous Preposition
1254 Words
Elena stormed down the long, dimly lit hallway of Adrian’s penthouse, her heartbeat drumming like war drums in her chest.
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t think.
Adrian’s words still echoed in her mind.
“I already control you.”
The arrogance. The audacity.
He was playing games with her, twisting her reality until she no longer knew which way was up. And the worst part? A part of her was starting to believe him.
She hated him.
Hated how he could look at her with those dark, calculating eyes and make her question everything.
Her father.
Her life.
Her freedom.
But Adrian DeLuca was wrong about one thing—she wasn’t his to control.
She turned a corner sharply and nearly slammed into a small wooden table, sending an expensive-looking vase wobbling dangerously. She caught it just in time, her fingers tightening around the cold porcelain.
“s**t,” she whispered, setting it back in place.
The hallway was eerily silent.
Too silent.
It was unnerving how quiet this place was. Even with Adrian’s men stationed around, there was no idle chatter, no unnecessary movement. Just watchful eyes.
She gritted her teeth. She needed to get out of here.
Her pulse thrummed with adrenaline as she scanned her surroundings, committing every door, every security camera, every possible escape route to memory.
Then—she heard footsteps.
Slow. Measured.
Her stomach twisted.
She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
“Running already, princess?”
That voice.
Deep. Amused. Dangerous.
She inhaled slowly before turning around. Adrian stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his dark shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his strong forearms. His stance was casual, but there was nothing relaxed about the way he was looking at her.
Like a predator watching his prey.
She refused to shrink under his gaze.
“I wasn’t running,” she said coolly.
His lips twitched. “No?”
“No.” She lifted her chin. “Just exploring my prison.”
He let out a quiet chuckle. “I already told you, Elena. You’re not a prisoner.”
She took a step closer, her eyes blazing. “Then let me leave.”
Adrian didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.
“No.”
Her hands curled into fists.
Of course.
He was never going to let her go.
And yet… he wasn’t keeping her locked up.
Why?
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you want from me?”
He took a step forward, closing the space between them. “I told you before. I want you to understand.”
“Understand what?” she snapped.
“Your father is a liar. He’s a traitor. And he’s more than willing to sacrifice you to save himself.”
Her breath hitched. “You’re lying.”
Adrian tilted his head. “Am I?”
She hated how her stomach twisted at the uncertainty in his voice. Was he lying?
“You’re just trying to manipulate me,” she accused. “Trying to turn me against my own father.”
“Your father already turned against you.”
The words slammed into her harder than she expected.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Why would he do that?”
Adrian studied her for a long moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it out.
“What is this?” she asked warily.
“The truth.”
She hesitated, then snatched it from his hand. As she unfolded it, her stomach dropped.
It was a contract.
Signed by her father.
Her name was in bold letters. Alongside a price.
A bounty.
For her death.
The room tilted.
She felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“No,” she whispered. This had to be fake.
But the signature… she knew that signature. She had seen her father sign documents her whole life.
This wasn’t forged.
This was real.
She barely noticed as Adrian took another step closer, his voice softer now.
“He sold you out, Elena. To his enemies. To mine. He wanted you dead before you could become a problem for him.”
She shook her head. “No. No, there has to be an explanation. Maybe he—”
“There is no explanation,” Adrian cut in. “Only the truth.”
She gripped the paper so tightly her knuckles turned white.
She had spent her whole life fighting for his approval.
Trying to prove she was worth something to him.
And all along… he had seen her as nothing more than a liability.
Her throat burned.
She wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not in front of Adrian.
But he saw it. He always saw too much.
“Elena,” he murmured.
She flinched. She couldn’t do this.
Without another word, she spun on her heel and walked away, her vision blurred at the edges.
“Elena.”
She ignored him.
She didn’t stop until she reached her bedroom.
Until she locked the door behind her.
Then, finally, she let herself slide to the floor, her whole body trembling.
Later That Night
Elena barely moved from where she sat.
The contract lay beside her, staring at her like a cruel joke.
Every time she tried to rationalize it, tried to tell herself there had to be some other reason for it, the truth came crashing down again.
Her father had never wanted her.
He had never cared.
She had been so blind.
A knock at the door shattered the silence.
She inhaled sharply. “Go away.”
The door opened anyway.
Adrian.
She didn’t even look up. “I said go away.”
He leaned against the doorframe, watching her. “You’ve had enough time to sulk.”
She clenched her jaw. “I’m not sulking.”
He stepped closer. “No? Then what would you call this?”
“Processing,” she bit out.
Adrian knelt down in front of her, his voice quieter now. “I know it hurts.”
She scoffed. “Do you?”
He didn’t answer right away. But something flickered in his eyes—something she almost missed.
“I know betrayal,” he said simply.
She exhaled shakily, looking away. “What do you want, Adrian?”
He was silent for a moment. Then—
“I want to make you an offer.”
Her brows furrowed. “What?”
Adrian’s gaze was dark, unwavering. Commanding.
“Your father tried to have you killed,” he said. “That means he doesn’t see you as his daughter. He sees you as a threat.”
Her stomach twisted.
“So?”
“So, what if we make him regret that?”
She stilled. “What are you saying?”
Adrian reached for her hand, his fingers brushing against hers.
“Join me.”
The words hung in the air like a dangerous promise.
Her heart pounded.
“Join you?” she repeated.
“You want revenge? Take it.” His grip on her hand tightened just slightly. “Your father thinks he can discard you like you don’t matter? Show him how wrong he is.”
Her breath hitched.
This was insane.
She should have said no. Should have refused outright.
But instead…
Instead, she was tempted.
Because for the first time in her life, she wasn’t just someone’s daughter.
She wasn’t just a pawn.
For the first time—she had power.
And she wasn’t sure she wanted to let it go.
- Writer
