Rainy Night
By the end of the evening, Lia's head hurt from pretending she belonged there.
Every conversation sounded the same.
Money.
Investments.
Family names.
People speaking in polished half-truths while secretly measuring each other's worth.
She stood near the balcony doors nursing the same untouched champagne glass for nearly twenty minutes before Sienna finally appeared beside her.
"You look like you want to escape through the window."
"I'm considering it."
Sienna laughed quietly before stealing the champagne from Lia's hand and taking a sip herself.
"You know half this room has been staring at you all night, right?"
Lia frowned immediately. "Why?"
Sienna gave her a look.
"Because Adrian Monteverde has spent the entire evening staring at you."
Her stomach tightened annoyingly fast.
Lia glanced across the ballroom instinctively.
And immediately regretted it.
Because Adrian was already looking at her.
Like he knew she would.
He stood across the room speaking to several older executives, one hand tucked inside his pocket while the city lights glowed behind him through massive glass windows.
Power seemed to follow him naturally.
Nobody interrupted him.
Nobody spoke over him.
Even the older businessmen twice his age listened carefully whenever he spoke.
But despite the crowded ballroom—
his attention remained on her.
It made her pulse feel uneven.
"You need to stop doing that," Lia muttered.
Sienna blinked. "Doing what?"
"Looking where I'm looking."
"Oh please." Sienna grinned. "You two are basically in a psychological staring contest."
Lia rolled her eyes softly.
Still—
she looked away first.
Again.
—
An hour later, the ballroom had grown louder.
Music drifted softly beneath conversations while rain hammered against the windows outside.
Lia finally slipped away toward the hallway near the elevators just to breathe.
The silence there felt immediate.
Cool marble floors.
Dim lighting.
No fake smiles.
She leaned briefly against the wall and closed her eyes.
Her feet hurt.
Her social battery was dead.
And Adrian Monteverde was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
"You disappeared."
Her eyes opened instantly.
Of course.
Adrian stood at the end of the hallway.
No audience this time.
No executives.
No crowded ballroom.
Just him.
Lia exhaled softly. "You really need to stop appearing out of nowhere."
"You leave rooms quietly."
"That doesn't mean you have to follow me."
A pause.
Then:
"I know."
That answer caught her off guard.
Again.
There was something deeply unsettling about how honest he was.
Most people softened themselves socially.
Adrian never did.
He simply presented truths and waited for people to deal with them.
"You don't seem to enjoy parties," he observed.
"I don't enjoy rich people pretending they're humble."
A faint flicker of amusement touched his eyes.
"You've hated this entire evening."
"I've survived this entire evening."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is."
Silence settled briefly between them.
Comfortable wasn't the right word.
But it wasn't uncomfortable either.
Just... intense.
Like every conversation with Adrian carried weight beneath the surface.
His eyes moved slowly over her face.
Not rushed.
Careful.
"You're tired."
"You analyze me too much."
"You reveal more than you realize."
Lia crossed her arms lightly.
"And what exactly am I revealing now?"
Adrian stepped closer.
Not enough to touch her.
Just enough to make her heartbeat change.
"That you stop pretending when you're exhausted."
The hallway suddenly felt smaller.
Quieter.
Dangerous in a way she couldn't explain.
Lia looked away first.
Again.
"You make people nervous," she muttered.
"I know."
"You say that like you're proud of it."
"I say it because it's true."
Rain thundered harder outside.
The lights flickered faintly overhead.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Adrian's phone buzzed inside his pocket.
He ignored it.
Another vibration followed immediately after.
Still ignored.
"You know," Lia said carefully, "most people answer their phones."
"Most people aren't speaking to you."
The words landed harder than they should have.
Her pulse betrayed her instantly.
Adrian noticed.
Of course he did.
Something dark flickered briefly behind his eyes before disappearing again.
"You should leave before the storm gets worse," he said quietly.
Lia frowned slightly and glanced toward the windows.
The rain outside had become violent now.
Sheets of water blurred the entire skyline.
"I took the university shuttle," she admitted. "I think it already left."
"It did."
Her brows pulled together immediately.
"How do you know that?"
"I saw it leave twenty-three minutes ago."
Twenty-three minutes.
Not twenty.
Not half an hour.
Exact.
Precise.
Like he noticed everything down to the second.
Lia shook her head softly.
"You're terrifying."
"And yet," Adrian murmured, "you're still here."
That shut her up again.
Because once again—
he was right.
A strange tension stretched quietly between them.
Not romantic exactly.
Not yet.
Something sharper.
Curiosity mixed with danger.
Finally, Adrian reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a set of car keys.
"I'll drive you home."
Lia blinked immediately.
"Oh. No, that's okay."
"It wasn't a question."
"There it is."
His brow lifted slightly.
"What?"
"The controlling billionaire thing."
For the first time all evening—
Adrian actually smiled.
Small.
Brief.
Dangerously attractive.
"You think I'm controlling?"
"I think you're used to people obeying you."
"That's different."
"It really isn't."
The smile disappeared slowly, but something warmer remained in his expression now.
Interested.
Like he enjoyed arguing with her.
"That explains why everyone here looks terrified of disappointing you."
"They should be."
The answer came so calmly that Lia stared at him.
"You really hear yourself say things like that and think it's normal?"
"No."
At least he was self-aware.
Eventually, Lia sighed softly.
"I don't want to inconvenience you."
"You don't."
Simple.
Immediate.
Again.
She hated how difficult he made it to refuse him.
And honestly—
standing outside alone in this storm sounded miserable.
"...Fine," she muttered eventually.
Adrian opened the elevator doors without another word.
The ride downstairs felt strangely intimate despite the silence.
Soft jazz played quietly through hidden speakers overhead while the city lights reflected around mirrored walls.
Lia became painfully aware of everything.
The warmth radiating from him beside her.
The expensive scent lingering in the small space.
The way Adrian seemed completely comfortable in silence while she felt hyperaware of every breath.
"You're overthinking again."
She glanced at him immediately.
"Do you ever stop reading people's minds?"
"I'm reading your expression."
"That's worse somehow."
A faint flicker of amusement crossed his face again.
The elevator doors opened into the underground parking garage.
Rows of luxury cars gleamed beneath dim lighting.
Adrian led her silently toward a black car parked near the private elevators.
Lia stopped walking the second she recognized it.
The black car.
Her stomach dropped.
Rainy nights.
Across the street from her apartment.
Waiting beneath the broken lamp.
Adrian noticed the exact moment recognition crossed her face.
The silence between them changed instantly.
Heavy.
Sharp.
"You," Lia said quietly.
Not a question.
Adrian's expression remained unreadable.
"Yes."
The honesty hit harder than denial would have.
Lia stared at the car.
Then at him.
"You were outside my apartment."
"Yes."
"Why?"
A pause.
Then Adrian stepped closer slowly.
Rain echoed faintly through the parking structure around them.
"You looked nervous walking home alone."
"That doesn't explain watching my building."
"No," he agreed softly. "It doesn't."
Her heartbeat turned uneven.
Every instinct in her body told her this should scare her more than it did.
Because normal people didn't do things like this.
Normal men didn't memorize schedules.
Or know when your rent was overdue.
Or watch your apartment from parked cars in the rain.
But Adrian stood there looking completely calm.
Like obsession was the most natural thing in the world.
Lia swallowed carefully.
"You really are insane."
Something unreadable moved behind his eyes.
Not anger.
Not shame.
Almost satisfaction.
"Probably."
And somehow—
that answer frightened her most of all.