It wasn't until they were on the road that Sara Navarro pieced it together: Adrian Harding hadn't planned this. Some friend had thrown together a last-minute gathering and begged him to grace them with his presence for a few drinks.
Strictly speaking, it wasn't a formal occasion. They were all from the same circle—the kind of people who ran into each other constantly, whether they liked it or not.
But everyone else had brought a female companion. Adrian, likely wanting to sidestep the unwanted advances of random gold diggers, had broken his usual precedent and dragged Sara along as a shield.
She didn't want to be there.
Adrian's friends were nothing like him. While Adrian might not respect her, he at least maintained a passable surface demeanor; he only made things difficult behind closed doors.
These rich, second-generation brats had no such class.
In their eyes, humanity divided into two neat categories: those with use-value, and those without.
Sara belonged to the latter. On the few occasions she'd encountered them, she'd been treated like air—or worse.
But since Adrian rarely brought her into his social sphere, she couldn't very well spoil the mood.
Forty minutes later, the car pulled up to a private club so grand it bordered on obscene.
To the wealthy, this was merely a spot for leisure. To ordinary people, a single bottle of liquor inside cost more than a year's salary.
The manager was already waiting at the entrance, having heard Adrian was arriving. He ushered them in with a reverence usually reserved for descending royalty.
The private room was packed.
Sean Whitney, the organizer, approached first.
Sara knew Sean. His family owned a bank—so poor they had nothing left but money. Aside from a decent face, he possessed neither character nor intellect.
He and Adrian were polar opposites. The phrase "spoiled rich kid" might as well have been tattooed across Sean's forehead.
Despite his young age, the women around him rotated like a revolving door. A different face on his arm every day wasn't an exaggeration—it was an understatement.
He'd occasionally tried to shove women onto Adrian, so Sara held no goodwill toward him.
The feeling was clearly mutual.
Seeing her, Sean's eyebrows shot up.
Sara understood why immediately.
Eva James was there.
Her gaze snapped to Adrian.
He'd been kept in the dark too. His eyes narrowed, a look of cold displeasure cutting toward the mastermind.
Being set up was what Adrian hated most.
Sensing the temperature plummet, Sean scrambled forward. "She showed up last minute. I didn't know beforehand, I swear. Couldn't exactly kick her out. Just turn a blind eye—pretend she's not here."
The instant Adrian looked over, Eva looked back.
Their eyes met.
Sara's heart seized.
"Adrian, thank you for helping me last time. I caused you trouble."
Eva moved closer, taking the initiative, staring at him as if the rest of the room had dissolved into mist.
Adrian's response was ice. "If you knew it was trouble, Ms. James, you shouldn't have contacted me."
That same rigid barrier. Keeping strangers at arm's length.
*So it still hasn't been settled.*
*She rushed over to show off to me—probably because she feels insecure.*
"If it were really a bother, Adrian wouldn't have gone," Sean interjected, smoothing things over with a practiced smile. "Eva, no need to be so formal. We all grew up together. Helping each other is just what we do."
Eva's gaze lingered on Adrian's indifferent face. She forced a smile.
Adrian seemed completely blind to her disappointment. He led Sara past her and sat down without a backward glance.
But Sara knew better.
If he truly didn't care, he would have left the moment he saw her.
A woman's intuition screamed at her: Adrian still couldn't let go.
There was nothing she could do. She could only brace herself, sit beside him, and play the part.
As the night wore on, she heard someone ask Eva, "Now that you're back, are you leaving again?"
"Even if the outside world is wonderful, being alone is lonely in the end." Eva's words carried a weight meant for someone specific. "Unlike here, where I still have you friends."
"Then stay."
Several mutual friends chimed in, clearly trying to broker peace. "Back then, you pursued your career and insisted on going abroad. Now you're a world-famous pianist. Time to settle down, right? You're twenty-nine. If you don't consider marriage soon, you'll miss your chance."
Eva smiled, half-joking, half-serious. "I'd like to. I'm just afraid someone won't welcome it."
"Impossible. If you came back for good, everyone would be overjoyed."
The small talk flowed. The atmosphere livened up.
Naturally, the games began.
The room was full of the rich and noble, but the man at the apex of the pyramid was undoubtedly Adrian Harding.
No one dared prank Adrian.
Sara wasn't so lucky.
During the third round of Truth or Dare, the bottle spun and pointed directly at her.
Knowing she'd studied dance, someone immediately goaded her to perform on the spot, denying her the option to choose Truth.
Sara wasn't stupid. She heard the malice dripping beneath their smiles.
They were using the game to test her weight in Adrian's heart.
If he didn't step in to protect her, she had a dark premonition she would die a miserable social death tonight.
The room fell silent.
Every gaze shifted to Adrian, waiting for his reaction.
