133: Roses And A Dagger

133: Roses And A Dagger
ADRIAN

Months ago,

The ballroom reeked of old money and possible older grudges. Crystal chandeliers threw fractured light over a crowd of liars in expensive tuxedos and dresses.

I wasn't here to be seen. I was here to watch.

And that’s when I saw her.

Killian Cross walked in, his aura instantly setting men on edge. Women glanced at him more than just twice. I could see why. He was more than just sugar daddy material. He always had that presence, the kind that set me on edge. But the shadow at his side was no shadow at all.

She was a blaze.

Blue eyes that sparkled like jewels, scanning the room with more curiosity than fear. She moved with him but not behind him. Defiant. Electric. Untamed.

Of course she was his. I would've known it even without the last name. The jawline, the arrogance in her movements—it was Cross blood, through and through.

But there was something else. Something not even Killian had. A finesse sharper than any blade.

She slipped from his side to grab a glass of champagne, ignoring the warning in her father’s eyes. A smirk curved her lips as she downed it, unbothered. Every tilt of her chin was a spark of rebellion. Every shift of her gaze was a challenge.

And I couldn't stop watching.

I told myself it was strategy. Knowing the movements of an enemy's daughter was smart. If she was reckless, she was leverage. A weakness in his armor.

But then she brushed against me when she moved past me. It was a touch so faint that she didn't even notice. My hand twitched at my side, uselessly, as if my body hadn't caught up to my mind.

"Boss," one of my men murmured beside me, following my stare. "That's Rue Cross."

Rue.

The name lit my insides like a match. I rolled it on my tongue, already addicted to the sound of it.

My buddy leaned closer. "They say she's got her father's temper and twice his madness."

I almost laughed. Perfect.

So she wasn't just his daughter. She was a spark in a room full of gunpowder.

I should've turned away. I should've reminded myself that she was the one person I could never touch or want.

But obsession doesn't ask for permission. It takes root. It spreads.

And that night, as I watched Rue Cross smile so brilliantly, I made the first mistake of many.

I didn't look away.

....

Present day,

The boardroom was thick with tension. A dozen men sat around the table, their voices droning on about alliances, numbers, and territory.

I should've been paying attention.

But all I could think about was her.

Rue.

The memory of her skin still clung to my hands. The softness of her thighs wrapping tight around me. The heat of her body milking me so addictively. The smell of roses clinging to my skin.

My jaw clenched as I remembered the sound of her moans. The way she clawed at my shoulders as though holding on for her life.

Fuck.

My cock throbbed at the memory, swelling against my trousers. I shifted in my chair, but it was useless. Just thinking of her riding me, her breasts bouncing as she smirked down at me...

I was already as hard as a rock.

"...Adrian?"

The voice snapped me back. One of my men was staring at me with confusion on his face. The room had gone quiet, waiting for my response to whatever question had just been thrown my way.

I cleared my throat, leaning back in my chair, one hand fisted loosely on the armrest to keep from adjusting myself. "Repeat the question."

The man hesitated, then he swallowed hard. "I asked if we should move on the shipment tonight or wait until tomorrow."

Shipment. Right. Business.

But all I could think about was Rue, sprawled beneath me last night, her body trembling around my cock until I gave her exactly what she begged for.

My lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.

"Tonight," I said smoothly. "We move tonight."

The room nodded in agreement, none of them realizing that my mind wasn't on the deal at all.

It was still in that hotel room, still buried deep inside her.

...

The restaurant was high class. Velvet seats, crystal chandeliers, and waiters in white gloves serving overpriced food.

Across from me, my uncle spoke in that smooth, self-important drawl, laying out his grand plans for empire and revenge.

I nodded at the right times, but my mind was nowhere near him.

Beneath the table, I slid out my phone. With a discreet flick of my thumb, the app opened. Her name glowed at the top. Rue.

Her location pinged, a small dot moving on the map.

Roses. That was what came to my mind every time. Roses and a dagger.

My cock stirred just remembering the way her moans had feverishly caressed my ears, the way her body had melted under mine.

"Adrian," my uncle pressed, irritation creeping into his tone.

I barely glanced up. "I'm listening."

But I wasn't.

The dot blinked. It had stopped moving. I zoomed in. Same street. Same block. My pulse roared in my ears with excitement.

"Rue Cross," my uncle said finally, leaning forward in his chair. "Use her. Through her, we destroy Killian. Break her, and his empire follows."

My blood turned molten, my excitement vanishing in an instant. ‘Use her.’

I masked the fury with a swallow of whiskey, but my hands itched for violence. Rue wasn't a key. She wasn't a pawn. She was—

A sudden movement outside the glass wall caught my attention. My breath caught in my throat.

It was Rue.

She was storming out of the ritzy restaurant across the street, her eyes blazing like blue fire in the dark.

Following behind her was a man in a tailored suit and glasses. He was nerdy, clean-cut, and wrong for her in every way.

He wasn't just chasing. He was pleading.

"I don't care what you say, Rue!" the man shouted as she spun on him. "We belong together. Your father will see reason eventually. He'll agree to the marriage—"

My hand tightened on the glass until it nearly shattered. Marriage?

Rue's laugh cracked through the night, loud and merciless. "Marriage? To you? Don't flatter yourself, Oliver. I'd rather set myself on fire."

The nerd, Oliver, reached for her wrist, desperation etched onto his features. "Rue, listen—"

She yanked her hand away, her eyes wild. "Don't touch me. You had your chance, and you blew it. Go grovel somewhere else."

I was already out of my seat. My uncle barked something behind me, but I didn't hear.

I slipped into the shadows outside, watching as Rue ripped into the nerd with that deadly tongue, every word dripping with poison. And then, just when I thought she couldn't set me on edge more, her gaze darted my way.

Without hesitation, she pulled a switchblade from her pocket. The silver glinted under the streetlight before she launched it at me.

The blade embedded in the wall, a few meters from my head.

My smirk widened before I could stop it. She knew I'd been watching.

Rue brushed past Oliver like he was nothing, striding towards me with that dangerous sway of her hips in those low-cut jeans. The smell of roses hit me first, dizzying. Then her finger jabbed my chest, hard. My heart raced faster as heat coursed through my blood as a result of our close proximity.

"Why the hell did you leave me in bed alone, Trouble?" She snapped, her eyes sizzling with barely restrained fury. "You better have a reasonable explanation... or I swear I'll chop your dick off."

Oh my me.

Just when I thought she couldn’t be any sexier than she already was, she goes and rips the floor right out from under my feet.

“Talk,” she hissed, slamming a hand on the wall… caging me?