Adrian leaned against his car and pulled out a cigarette. He didn’t smoke often…only when he needed to think, or when his carefully maintained control had been tested in ways he hadn’t anticipated.
Like having Sophia Laurent in his lap, her lips on his neck, her body warm and soft and willing against his.
He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, watching the smoke curl up toward the streetlights. His body was still humming with tension, with want he’d ruthlessly suppressed.
A low, mocking whistle cut through his thoughts.
Adrian turned to see Vincent leaning against a nearby lamppost, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder, his expression dripping with mockery.
“Well, well,” Vincent drawled, his voice sharp with disdain. “Adrian Cole. Really stealing the spotlight today, aren’t you?” He pushed off the lamppost and sauntered closer, gesturing at the luxury high–rise behind them.” What are you even doing here? This clearly isn’t a place someone like you could afford to live in.”
Adrian took another drag from his cigarette and turned toward his car without responding. He had no interest in engaging with Victoria’s new toy.
Vincent moved quickly, stepping directly into Adrian’s path and blocking the driver’s side door.
“I asked you a question,” Vincent said, his smile turning cold.
Adrian’s eyes flicked up to meet Vincent’s. The look was flat, unimpressed, but he still said nothing.
Vincent’s jaw tightened at being ignored. He’d come here to deal with the apartment situation…that disaster with Mrs. Stone getting arrested, the fake keycard being exposed He’d been trying to figure out damage control when he spotted Adrian driving away from the building.
And now, seeing Adrian here, watching Sophia disappear into the same building… suddenly everything clicked into place.
“So that’s how it is,” Vincent said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “Sophia Laurent lives here too. That makes sense now.” He stepped closer, jabbing a finger toward Adrian’s chest. “You’ve been working together, haven’t you? She used you to sabotage Victoria’s IPO. You helped her drag me into this mess…”
“Move,” Adrian said quietly.
“You’re a hired gigolo,” Vincent sneered, ignoring the warning in Adrian’s tone. “Victoria was right about you. A parasite who latches onto successful women and bleeds them dry. Now that she’s finally kicked you out, you’ve found your next meal ticket. How much is Sophia paying you? Or are you just doing it for free, hoping she’ll…”
He didn’t get to finish.
Adrian moved so fast Vincent barely saw it. One moment they were standing apart; the next, Adrian had grabbed Vincent by his expensive suit jacket and slammed him back against the car with enough force to dent the door panel.
Vincent’s back hit the metal with a painful thud, the air rushing out of his lungs.
Adrian leaned in close, his voice dropping to something col and deadly. “You should worry more about how you plan to pay off your gambling debts.”
Vincent froze. The color drained from his face, replaced by shock and then rising panic. “What… what are you talking about?”
“Eight million yuan,” Adrian said flatly. “With interest accumulating at fifteen percent monthly.
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Vincent’s eyes went wide with genuine terror. “How do you I never told anyone…”
Adrian released him abruptly, stepping back. Vincent sagged against the car, his hands trembling.
“If you dare spread rumors about me,” Vincent said, his voice rising with desperate anger, “if you say one word to Victoria or anyone else, I’ll have someone kill you. Do you hear me? I’ll…”
Adrian just sneered, turning away dismissively.
“I mean it!” Vincent shouted at his back. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with! I’ll…”
Adrian kept walking, not bothering to acknowledge the threats. He got into his car, started the engine, and pulled away from the curb without a backward glance.
Vincent stood there in the parking lot, watching the taillights disappear, his mind racing with dark thoughts. How did Adrian know? How could he possibly know about the debts? Vincent had been so careful, so meticulous about covering his tracks.
“Mr. Lu?”
Vincent spun around, his heart hammering.
A middle–aged man in a crisp suit was approaching, carrying a leather portfolio. Vincent recognized him…the apartment building’s property manager, the one he’d been desperately trying to reach for the past two days.
“Mr. Lu,” the manager said again, his expression professionally neutral. “I’m glad I caught you. I received your messages about wanting to meet with the penthouse owner”
Vincent’s throat went dry. “Yes, yes, I…I wanted to explain about the misunderstanding. My future mother–in- law, she didn’t mean to…”
“I spoke with the owner,” the manager interrupted smoothly. “Unfortunately, they have no interest in meeting with you for a reconciliation.”
“But I can explain everything! If I could just speak with them directly…”
“That’s not an option.” The manager’s tone was sympathetic but firm. “The owner’s position is very clear. If the trespasser…or someone representing her…doesn’t offer a face–to–face apology within three days, they’ll be proceeding with legal action. Criminal trespassing charges, property damage, the works.”
Vincent felt ice flood his veins. Legal action meant court. Court meant public records. Public records meant Victoria would find out everything…..
The carefully crafted persona would collapse instantly. Victoria would call off the engagement. Her family would cut him off. And then he’d have no way to pay off his debts,
The loan sharks would come calling. And they wouldn’t be patient.
“There has to be another way,” Vincent said desperately. “I can compensate the owner financially. Whatever they want, I’ll…”
“Actually,” the manager said, as if the thought had just occurred to him, “there might be an alternative. If arranging an apology is too difficult for you…”
“Yes?” Vincent leaned forward eagerly. “What is it?”
“The owner mentioned they might be willing to sell the property instead. Given the circumstances, they feel it would be simpler to part with it rather than deal with ongoing legal complications.”
Vincent’s eyes lit up. If he bought the apartment, the lie would become truth. Victoria would never have to know
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he hadn’t owned it from the start. Mrs. Stone’s arrest could be explained away as a simple misunderstanding with the security system.
“How much?” Vincent asked quickly. “How much do they want for it?”
The manager consulted his portfolio, though Vincent suspected he already knew the number by heart. “The owner is asking forty–five million yuan.”
The words hit Vincent like a sledgehammer.
“Forty–five million?” His voice came out strangled. “That’s insane! The penthouse is worth thirty million at most …maybe thirty–five if the market’s good. They’re inflating the price!”
Vincent’s hands clenched into fists. This was extortion. Pure and simple. But what choice did he have?
At least with the apartment, he’d have a tangible asset. Something he could claim as his own, proof of his ” success.” Victoria wouldn’t question it. Her family would be impressed. He could keep the charade going just a little longer, just long enough to figure out a way to access Victoria’s assets after the marriage.
Vincent stood there in the dim parking lot, feeling trapped.
“How long do I have to decide?” he asked, his voice hollow.
“The offer expires in twenty–four hours,” the manager said. “After that, the owner withdraws it and proceeds with legal action.”
Vincent closed his eyes, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth ached. “I’ll buy it,” Vincent said finally, the words tasting like ashes in his mouth. “I’ll transfer the funds tomorrow.”
The manager nodded, unsurprised, and pulled a business card from his portfolio. “Excellent. Contact me in the morning with your bank details, and I’ll have the paperwork prepared. You can sign when the payment clears.”
He walked away, leaving Vincent standing alone in the parking lot.
Vincent stared at the business card in his hand, then up at the luxury building that was about to cost him everything he had.
Somewhere in the darkness, he could almost feel Adrian Colle laughing at him.
D
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
