Chapter 6
Tiffany
Two weeks later
S tepping onto the glistening marble floor of the Carter family’s grand ballroom, I am surrounded by a sea of red roses and white lilies. The gala is in full swing, with an orchestra playing in the corner and guests buzzing with excitement as they mingle and dance. This scene is all too familiar to me; it reminds me of every lavish party Dean has thrown—over-the-top, extravagant, and excessive, designed to showcase Carter’s wealth and status.
Navigating through the crowd of socialites and business magnates, I exchange polite greetings and nods until my gaze lands on Cassandra. She glides through the room, her auburn hair cascading down her back like a fiery waterfall. She is the epitome of elegance, wearing a sleek black gown that accentuates her lithe figure.
As I approach her, she turns to me with a warm smile. “Darling, you look stunning. This color suits you perfectly.”
My midnight blue satin gown is impeccably tailored with a tight bodice and voluminous skirt that sways with every step I take. It’s a dress that feels like armor, something to bolster my confidence in a room filled with people who are judging my every move.
“Thank you,” I reply, forcing a smile despite the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Quite the showstopper, as usual.”
Cassandra laughs lightly, the sound is melodic and carefree. “I try,” she teases, before leaning in slightly, her voice lowering. “How are you holding up? This must be overwhelming.”
She is well aware of how uncomfortable I feel being the center of attention at these events. In that sense, we couldn’t be more different. Cassandra thrives in large crowds, her charisma effortlessly drawing people in, while I often feel like a fish out of water, struggling to find my place in the sea of polished smiles and calculated conversations.
“I’m managing. How are you? How’s the wedding coming along?”
“Horrible. Your publicist is making my life miserable with her last-minute wedding changes. I swear that woman has a sixth sense for when I’m about to relax. She called me at midnight last night to discuss the floral arrangements—again. As if we hadn’t already finalized them three times,” Cassandra says with a dramatic sigh. “But enough about me. You look like you’re about to bolt for the nearest exit.”
“Well, I plan on sneaking out of here as soon as I can. Olivia is so distracted by Alexander that I doubt she’ll even notice if I slip away. Besides, the spotlight’s on them tonight—they can handle the endless small talk and forced smiles.”
Ever since Senator Hawthorne gave his blessing for Alexander to step down from his real estate empire, the rumor mill has been churning non-stop. The whispers follow them everywhere, speculating about the true nature of their engagement and Alexander’s sudden involvement in Carter Corporation. Olivia has been playing her part perfectly, her smiles radiant and her words measured, but I know the toll it’s taking on her. She’s always been the stronger one, the one who carries the weight of our family on her shoulders, but even she has her limits.
“I cannot fault Olivia too much. Alexander has that whole ‘dark and handsome’ thing down to an art form.” Her eyes twinkle mischievously as she continues, “Speaking of dark and handsome, how is it going with your lover boy? Is Lucas here tonight too? He’s completely smitten with you. I’m surprised he’s not glued to your side tonight.”
“Lucas is a good friend.”
She arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “He’s head over heels for you. It’s written all over his face every time he looks in your direction. You shouldn’t underestimate the power you hold over him.”
I shift uncomfortably. Lucas has been kind and understanding about the chaos that is my life—funerals, weddings, galas. He accompanied me to events my PR team deemed necessary for maintaining the image of unity within the Carter family. I’ve been using him as a crutch, leaning on his steadiness while my world spins out of control. But the truth is, I don’t know how I feel about him—or if I’m even capable of feeling anything at all right now.
My eyes drift towards my sister and her fiancé across the ballroom. “I don’t know if I’m ready for anything more than friendship right now.”
Olivia looks radiant in her ivory gown with her blonde hair pulled into an elaborate bun. She’s wearing a dark burgundy gown that fits her body like a glove; it flows and swishes with every movement she makes. Alexander stands tall next to her, his dark hair perfectly groomed and his tuxedo hugging his muscular physique. He carries himself with such authority that he captivates everyone’s attention.
Together, they make a striking pair, the golden couple everyone envies—wealth, power, and beauty, all wrapped up in a perfect package.
It’s partly an act, meant to keep up appearances, to show the world that the Carters are unbreakable, even in the face of tragedy.
But when my sister leans in close to him and whispers something in his ear. His hand rests possessively on her lower back as they exchange words that make her laughter ring through the ballroom.
They appear infatuated with each other, lost in their own world when they’re together.
“What do you think of Alexander? You knew him when you were growing up, right?”
Cassandra follows my gaze. “I’ve known Alexander for years. His sister and I grew up together in the Hawthorn estate, running through the halls and causing mischief whenever we could. He was always the serious one, even as a child. There was always a fire within him, never afraid of a challenge and always striving for excellence in everything he did. I think he’ll be good for Olivia—she needs someone who can match her spirit and determination. They make a beautiful couple, that’s for sure.”
“Do you know why she didn’t tell me about Alexander sooner?”
“She wanted to make sure he was the one before before introducing him to you. Not every day, heirs to two of the most influential families in Empire Heights fall for each other.”
“She’s my sister, and I would have supported her, regardless. I just wish she had trusted me enough to share this part of her life sooner.”
I’m quite a hypocrite, I realize as the words leave my lips. My own secrets—the ones I keep buried deep, the ones I haven’t even fully acknowledged to myself—weigh heavier than I care to admit. The truth is, I haven’t been entirely honest with Olivia either. There are things I’ve kept from her, decisions I’ve made without consulting her, fears I’ve hidden. The irony isn’t lost on me.
“Olivia’s always been protective of you, Tiffany. She doesn’t want to burden you with more than you’re already carrying. You know how she is—she’d rather shoulder everything herself than see you struggle.”
I sigh, my gaze drifting back to my sister and Alexander. “I know. But sometimes it feels like she doesn’t realize I’m not that little girl anymore. I can handle things, too.”
“She knows that, but old habits die hard. Just give her time,” Cassandra says softly. Her green eyes are earnest now, no trace of mischief left. “In the meantime, focus on yourself. You’ve been so preoccupied with Olivia and the company, trying to hold everything together. When was the last time you thought about what you want? Why not give Lucas a real chance, despite the circumstances? He might surprise you in more ways than one.”
“You’re always playing matchmaker.”
“I can’t help but meddle in matters of the heart. It’s both a blessing and a curse, my dear Tiffany. Now that you’re smiling, I need to mingle with some investors. We’ll catch up later, alright?” She gestures toward the balcony. “I saw Lucas in the garden, charming a group of businessmen.”
Cassandra vanishes into the crowd, and I set my glass on a nearby table, weaving through the sea of elegant dresses and sharp tuxedos toward the balcony.
The cool night air is a welcome relief from the stuffy heat of the ballroom. It’s a beautiful night, with a clear sky and a full moon. I lean against the cold marble of the balcony. The garden below is a serene oasis, lit by soft golden lights that seem to twinkle like stars against the dark foliage. The faint hum of the party drifts out from the ballroom, but out here, it’s quiet—almost peaceful. I can hear the distant rustle of leaves in the breeze and snippets of conversation from the garden below.
It could be Lucas.
I slip out of the side door and make my way towards the voices.
Suddenly, a strong hand grabs me and pulls me into the shadows. My heart races, and I try to wriggle free, but the grip around my waist is firm and prevents any escape. The stranger presses me against the wall of the mansion, my back meeting the cool, hard stone. When I lift my gaze, I find myself looking into those familiar dark blue eyes that have haunted my dreams for months.
My breath catches.
“Hi, angel,” he whispers, his intense gaze boring into mine. The moonlight catches the edges of his face, casting shadows that only enhance his rugged features. I’m acutely aware of the proximity between us, the heat radiating off his body, seeping into mine. His cologne is a heady mix of cedar and sandalwood, and it awakens something dormant inside me.
My entire body is buzzing with electricity, my skin tingles where his fingers graze my arm, and my heart pounds so loudly I’m certain he can hear it.
“Adrien.” Memories flood back to me in an instant—his crooked smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, the warmth of his touch against my skin. It’s as if time stands still in this moment, and all the unresolved feelings I thought I had buried resurface with a vengeance. “What are you doing here?”
Adrien is my sworn enemy, a reckless mistake of my past, but in the most twisted, involuntary way, I miss him desperately.
Without a single thought for anyone else—not my uncle, nor my sister, or even Lucas—my hands reach out to grab the front of his tuxedo, pulling him closer until our chests collide.
In the glow of the moonlight, his eyes sparkle like precious gems and I can’t resist running my fingers through Adrien’s dark hair as it falls over his forehead and frames his handsome face. My hands roam all over him—his chest, arms, back—I need to make sure he’s real.
“Did you miss me, my love?”
I press myself closer to him, every inch of my body pressed against his.
He is solid and warm, tangible in a way that makes me tremble. With closed eyes and parted lips, I lean forward and press my lips against his.
Adrien responds eagerly, capturing my lips with his own, and I melt into him. He tastes of champagne and chocolate, his tongue tracing the corners of my mouth and exploring its edges.
As the kiss deepens, he groans low in his throat, and I push myself tighter against him, letting my heavy breasts mold against his chest.
“I missed you too, angel.”
I’m drowning in the best possible way, his powerful arms holding me close and keeping me afloat. Without hesitation, I wrap my legs around his waist, needing to be even closer to him.
His stubble grazes my chin as his mouth presses against mine, kissing me fiercely. I know he’ll leave marks on my sensitive skin; I hope he does. I want to remember him, his taste, his touch, for the weeks to come.
Adrien’s tongue slides against mine, his teeth nibbling at my lower lip, and I whimper into his mouth as his erection presses against my stomach.
I moan softly, my hips bucking against his hard body as he grinds against me. I can feel the thickness of his erection through the layers of fabric, and my pussy clenches in anticipation.
I break away from the kiss, gasping for breath as I lock eyes with him. His skin is flushed, and his lips are swollen, mirroring my own. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his breathing as ragged as mine. For a moment, we just stare at each other, the air between us crackling with unspoken words and unresolved tension. His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from my face, his touch surprisingly tender despite the ferocity of our kiss.
“Tell me you’re still mine,” Adrien murmurs.
“I’m...”
With a sharp jolt, I realize who I am supposed to be with right now—Lucas.
“Wait,” I whisper, though my body betrays me, pressing closer to him as if it has a will of its own. My voice is shaky, barely audible over the pounding of my heart. “I need a moment to think.”
“It’s too late, angel.” His fingers trail down my body, spreading the wildfire. “I haven’t been able to think straight since the moment I saw you.”
“I’ve met someone.”
He pulls back slightly. “Who?”
There is fire burning in those blue depths, and something dark and dangerous flickers in them before they return to a neutral expression.
I lick my swollen lips, trying to find the courage to speak even though all I want to do is give in to desire and forget about the consequences.
“I’m sort of seeing someone. It’s not official or serious yet, but there’s potential.”
Adrien’s jaw tightens and his hands still.
“Who?” he repeats.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?” His voice is low, edged with something that makes my stomach twist—part jealousy, part possessiveness. His fingers tighten around my waist, anchoring me to him.
“Because it’s none of your business. You don’t get to barge back into my life and demand answers.” I lick my lips before continuing, “You’re are all wrong for me, anyway.”
Adrien’s face is a mask, emotionless, almost cold. But I can see the flash of hurt in his eyes before he hides it away.
“So I’m a villain, and he’s your Prince Charming? Your savior, who can fill the void I’ve left behind?”
“He could be.”
His blue eyes bore into me, his arms tightening around my body. “Tiffany Carter, why do you always make things so difficult?”
“I don’t mean to.” My hands still clutch the lapels of his tuxedo, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.
“Does he know?” Adrien’s touch sends shivers down my spine as his fingers trail over my waist. “Does he know how you tremble at my touch? How I make you ache for more? How badly you crave my kiss, my touch, my body pressed against yours?”
“I loathe you.”
I never wanted Lucas to touch me like that. Not like how Adrien does.
My body still remembers every touch from Adrien—every stroke, every kiss. And now, standing there with him, the heat of his body against mine, I realize I will never forget him.
He is my forbidden fruit, my guilty pleasure, my secret longing. He is the one man I should stay away from, but whenever I’m near him, my heart aches with an unquenchable desire.
Lucas is different. He is kind and good, everything I should desire. But with him, I feel nothing. He is safe, predictable, and dull. With Adrien, I feel alive, desired, and needed to an extent that scares and excites me all at once.
Adrien’s thumb traces a corner of my mouth. “It’s quite ironic, isn’t it, angel? How do the bad boys always seem to get everything they want while the good guys are left with nothing?”
“It’s all because of you.” My eyes burn with tears. “You’ve messed me up. He’s such a good man, so kind and patient…”
“Patient, kind, and considerate? What a delight.” His eyes are hungry and relentless. “But that’s not what you want, is it?”
It is not , I admit to myself. I want fire and passion, the kind of intensity that can make me lose myself. I want the thrill of the unknown, the danger, and the excitement that comes with being with someone who could just as easily break my heart as he could give me the best moments of my life.
But I also want love, safety, and stability. I want to be cherished and cared for, and I want to be able to trust the person I’m with completely.
As the silence stretches between us, I can feel Adrien’s breath on my neck, his body still pressed against mine. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and I can’t pretend that I don’t want him to. It’s a constant battle between my head and my heart.
The question is—which one will ultimately win?