The scent of roses filled the air—sweet, delicate, deceiving. The bouquet in her hands was fresh, petals dusted with the soft kiss of morning dew, but beneath their beauty was something far more dangerous.
She turned slightly, the fabric of her white skirt shifting with her movement, her long hair cascading down her back like a silk river. She knew she was being watched. She always was.
Her name was Lilith.
To the world, she was an innocent bloom—delicate, untouched, something men wished to pluck and claim. But Lilith was no flower. She was the thorn, the poison wrapped in silk, the fire hidden beneath snow.
She had spent years perfecting this illusion—the quiet girl with a soft smile, the one who turned heads but never lingered long enough to be caught.
Until him.
Adrian Valmont.
A name whispered in shadows, a man whose presence could steal the breath from a room. He was dangerous, not just in the way he looked at her, but in the way he saw her.
And that made him a threat.
Lilith had always been in control, but when Adrian’s eyes met hers across the crowded ballroom two nights ago, she felt it—the unraveling. A single moment of weakness, a flicker of something she couldn’t afford to feel.
And now, standing here, roses in her hands, his presence lurking behind her like an unspoken challenge, she knew he had come for her.
“Who sent you the flowers?” His voice was deep, rich, and laced with amusement.
She turned slowly, a coy smile dancing on her lips. “Do you ask out of curiosity or jealousy?”
His gaze darkened, a predator’s patience simmering beneath his calm facade. He took a step closer, his fingers grazing the bare skin of her arm—a touch so light, yet it burned.
“You think I don’t know?” His voice was softer now, more dangerous.
Her breath hitched, but she masked it with a smirk. “Know what?”
Adrian tilted his head, studying her the way one might study a weapon just before using it. Then, without warning, he reached out, plucking a single rose from the bouquet, his fingers trailing over the petals before letting them fall, one by one, to the floor.
“That you’re lying,” he murmured. “That this innocent act of yours is just that—an act.“
Lilith’s pulse quickened, but she refused to break. “And what do you think I’m hiding?”
A smirk. Dark. Knowing. Deadly.
“Your real name, for starters.”
The silence stretched between them, thick and charged. He was getting too close. Too deep.
Lilith stepped back, placing the bouquet on the table beside her. She tilted her chin, forcing her voice to stay steady. “You think you know me, Adrian?”
His gaze flickered to her lips, then back to her eyes.
“I know you better than you think.”
The challenge sent heat rolling through her, but she refused to be the first to break. This was a game.
A game of deception, seduction, and secrets.
