Emily
I sit up in bed, letting the blanket slide down my body. My heart is still racing too fast. The memory of the previous night looms with cruel clarity: Victorio's message, Adrian's threat... and that oppressive feeling of being caught in an invisible trap.
I let out a sigh, running a hand through my tousled hair. It's still early, but I already know that today will not be peaceful. I need to regain control. I won't let either Adrian or Victorio get to me.
I get up, stretching before walking barefoot to the bathroom. The hot water glides over my skin, but it does not ease the tension that has settled in my muscles.
A game of poker.
That was all it was, right? So why do I feel like it was so much more?
When I step out of the shower, the mirror is fogged up, reflecting a blurry silhouette. I quickly wipe away the steam. My gaze meets my own. My eyes are dark-circled, my expression tense.
— Get a grip, I whisper to my reflection.
I quickly dress, slipping into a fitted black dress and a pair of heels. If I have to face Victorio again, I might as well look my best.
My phone vibrates.
A message.
"11 AM. Royal Suite. Don't be late. – V"
I close my eyes for a second. Victorio doesn't waste time.
A second message arrives almost immediately.
"I'll be waiting for you."
I grit my teeth, my phone trembling in my hand. He wants to play again. Fine. But this time, I don't plan to lose.
---
The lobby of the Royal Palace is as sumptuous as I remember. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a golden light on the polished marble floor. Uniformed staff move silently, in controlled elegance.
I cross the lobby, my heels echoing against the marble, heading toward the elevators. The royal suite is on the top floor.
The door opens before me without a sound. I find myself facing a long corridor covered in red carpet. The beats of my heart quicken as I advance, my fingers sliding along the cold wall.
The door to the suite is ajar.
I stop in front of it, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.
Victorio is there.
Sitting in a leather armchair near the bay window, he is dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, a glass of champagne in hand. His smile is slow, calculated.
— Emily… he breathes in a low voice. You came.
— I had no choice, I say, closing the door behind me.
— We always have a choice.
His gaze slides down my body,Chapter 13: The Shadow of the Trap
Emily
I sit up in bed, letting the blanket slip down my body. My heart is still racing too fast. The memory of yesterday imposes itself with cruel clarity: Victorio's message, Adrian's threat… and that oppressive feeling of being caught in an invisible trap.
I let out a sigh, running a hand through my tousled hair. It's still early, but I already know this day will not be peaceful. I need to regain control. I cannot let either Adrian or Victorio reach me.
I get up, stretching before walking barefoot to the bathroom. The warm water slides over my skin, but it does not ease the tension that has settled in my muscles.
A game of poker.
That was all it was, right? So why do I feel like it was so much more?
When I step out of the shower, the mirror is fogged up, reflecting a blurry silhouette. I quickly wipe the steam away. My gaze meets my own. My eyes are shadowed, my expression tense.
— Pull yourself together, I murmur to my reflection.
I quickly get dressed, slipping into a tight black dress and a pair of heels. If I have to face Victorio again, I might as well look like I'm at the top of my game.
My phone vibrates.
A message.
"11 AM. Royal Suite. Don't be late. – V"
I close my eyes for a second. Victorio doesn't waste any time.
A second message arrives almost immediately.
"I will be waiting for you."
I grit my teeth, my phone trembling in my hand. He wants to play again. Fine. But this time, I don't intend to lose.
---
The lobby of the Royal Palace is as sumptuous as I remember. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a golden light on the polished marble floor. Uniformed staff move silently, in controlled elegance.
I cross the lobby, my heels echoing against the marble, heading towards the elevators. The royal suite is on the top floor.
The door opens before me without a sound. I find myself facing a long corridor covered in red carpet. The beats of my heart quicken as I move forward, my fingers gliding along the cold wall.
The suite door is ajar.
I stop in front of it, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.
Victorio is there.
Sitting in a leather armchair by the bay window, he is dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, a champagne glass in hand. His smile is slow, calculated.
— Emily… he whispers in a low voice. You came.
— I had no choice, I say, closing the door behind me.
— We always have a choice.
His gaze slides over my body, lingering a second too long on the curve of my hip.
— What do you want, Victorio?
He stands up, approaching with feline fluidity.
— Just to talk.
— Talk? The last time you wanted to talk, I found myself at a poker table with half my freedom at stake.
His smile widens.
— So why are you here?
I cross my arms over my chest.
— Because I want to know what you expect from me.
He gets closer, so close that I can smell his scent — a mix of wood and leather.
— What I want?
His finger glides along my cheek. I don't move, even though my breath catches in my throat.
— I want you, Emily.
My heart pounds.
— This is not a game, Victorio.
— No, he whispers, leaning in until his lips brush against my ear. It's much more than a game.
I place my hands on his chest to push him away, but he grabs my wrists, forcing me to look him in the eyes.
— Do you think you can resist? he asks, his warm breath caressing my cheek.
I clench my jaw.
— Let me go.
He smiles slowly before releasing my wrists.
— Very well. But remember one thing: I never leave a game before I've won.
I take a step back, my fists clenched.
— If you think you can manipulate me, you're mistaken.
Victorio tilts his head, his gaze darkening.
— Oh, Emily… I'm not manipulating you. I'm observing. And I'm waiting for the moment you realize you're already part of my game.
— You think you have control? I ask.
His smile is icy.
— I already have control.
I turn away, but his hand glides down my arm, lingering a second too long.
— We'll see each other soon, he murmurs.
I exit the suite without a word, my breath short.
---
As I descend into the lobby, a figure waits for me near the exit.
Adrian.
He leans against a column, his dark suit perfectly tailored, his piercing gaze fixed on me.
— What are you doing here? I ask as I approach.
— I told you I was watching you.
— I don't need protection.
He straightens up, moving closer slowly.
— This is not protection. It's a warning.
— Against Victorio?
He nods slowly.
— He doesn't play, Emily. He wants something from you. Something precious.
I frown.
— And you? What do you want?
Adrian steps closer, his burning gaze sliding over my lips.
— What I want?
His thumb brushes my cheek.
— You.
My breath stops.
— Adrian…
He grabs my neck, diving his gaze into mine.
— If you continue this game, Emily, you will have to choose. Between him… and me.
His gaze is an abyss in which I lose myself.
— Don't let me lose you.
Before I can respond, he places a kiss on my temple, his warm breath against my skin. Then he steps away, leaving me there, heart racing, body trembling.
I stand still for a second, my hand on my chest to calm the storm raging within me.
Adrian or Victorio.
It's no longer a game. It's a war.