Spiral Game

Chapter two: Surprise (part 2)

Zara waited until her mother’s breathing slowed into sleep before she left the room. Night had settled over the house by then. She stepped into the living room and found Zora sprawled on the couch, watching television and chewing snacks the way she always did.

Zara intended to ignore her and go straight to her bedroom. But the image on the screen stopped her. Camera flashes lit the room in sharp bursts as a man moved through the crowd. He wore a midnight-blue tuxedo tailored to his frame, the jacket fitted at the shoulders and tapering at the waist. Beneath it, a black silk shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, no tie. A slim diamond lapel pin caught the light at his chest, and a sleek watch glinted on his wrist. He carried himself with the ease of someone accustomed to lenses and applause, every step measured, every glance deliberate—the way celebrities did on red carpets.

Zara frowned. “Who is he?”

Zora jerked and nearly tumbled off the couch. She drew in a sharp breath. “Gosh, you scared me.”

She turned and stared at Zara like she’d grown a second head. “You mean you don’t know him? Everyone knows him. Everyone except you, because you’re too busy being a workaholic to notice anything outside the office.”

Zara’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to tell me, or not?”

Zora rolled her eyes. “Fine. That’s Adrian. Singer, songwriter, ambassador for Dior, and CEO of Reynolds Group. Rich, famous, handsome, and smug about all three. I could list his features all night. Rumor says he’s cold and ruthless. He just arrived in New York and he’s performing tomorrow evening. I need a ticket. His voice is soft, almost sweet. He released a new song called _Death Game_ and it went viral—”

She stopped. Zara’s bedroom door had clicked shut.

Zora muttered, “Doofus.”

Inside her room, Zara pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart raced. So he was Adrian. The Adrian whose name was on billboards and trending lists. And somehow, she had become tangled with him.

The thought made her breath catch. Why would Adrian, a man the world watched, notice her? Why would he forge a signature and claim Zara Wayne as his wife? Any other woman would have counted it as fortune. But Zara felt no fortune in it. She wanted love, a marriage she chose, a life she could trust.

Yet the way he had said “wife” on the phone stayed with her. It felt deliberate. It felt planned. As if someone had placed her in his path, and Adrian had decided, without asking her, that she was his.