Adriana stood in front of the mirror, slowly unfastening the delicate clasps of her gown. The reflection staring back at her was unfamiliar. Not because of the flawless makeup or the expensive dress, but because of the way she carried herself—confident, poised, dangerously aware of the power she held tonight.
She had stepped into Marco’s world expecting to drown in it.
Instead, she was learning how to swim.
A knock at the door startled her.
She turned, hesitating for a second before walking toward it.
When she opened it, Marco stood on the other side.
Still in his suit, his tie loosened just enough to make him look effortlessly undone, he held a glass of whiskey in his hand, watching her with the same unreadable intensity he always did.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked, her voice softer tha
