The elevator doors slid open the moment Seraphina stepped inside the penthouse. She tossed her purse onto the couch with more force than she meant to, her hands shaking from fury and humiliation.

The charity gala had been a disaster.

Not for the press.

Not for the board members.

For her.

Caroline Saint-Jude had draped herself over Adrian all night like a prize she already owned — and he’d let her. He hadn’t pushed her away once.

Seraphina hated that it hurt.

She had just poured a glass of water when the door shut behind her. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was. The air changed when Adrian entered a room — colder, tighter, electric.

“What was that tonight?” His voice was steel wrapped in velvet.

Seraphina didn’t answer. She drank her water instead.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he bit out when she turned.

She spun around, eyes blazing.

“What exactly am I supposed to do, Adrian? Stand there and watch while another woman marks her territory on my husband?”

His expression didn’t shift — but something snapped inside him. She saw it. Felt it.

“That’s what this is about?” he asked quietly. “You’re jealous?”

“You’re unbelievable.” She laughed bitterly. “I’m not jealous — I’m humiliated. I stood beside you looking like a placeholder while she touched you like—”

Adrian moved.

Not a step.

Not a reach.

A lunge.

He backed her into the wall so fast the room spun, caging her between his body and cold marble.

“No woman touches me,” he growled. “No woman ever has power over me. Except one.”

She swallowed, chest rising and falling too fast.

“Don’t—”

His voice dropped to a whisper made of danger and truth.

“I let Caroline near me because I wanted to see one thing.”

“What?” she breathed.

“If you felt anything for me.”

Seraphina stared at him, stunned.

“You wanted to hurt me,” she whispered. “To test me.”

“YES.” The word ripped out of him. “Because you drive me insane. Because I don’t know how to want someone like this without losing control.”

His hand gripped her jaw, not to force — to anchor himself.

“I’m not used to needing anyone,” he said, voice raw. “And you didn’t look jealous. You looked untouched. Indifferent.”

“I wasn’t.” Her voice trembled. “I was breaking.”

That was it — the last thread.

Adrian’s self-control didn’t just slip.

It detonated.

He kissed her — violent, starving, desperate. Not claiming her body, but her anger, her pain, her heart.

Seraphina gasped against his mouth, her fingers clutching his lapels like she needed him to breathe. It made him groan — deep, low, feral — and he kissed her harder.

She pushed him.

He shoved her back.

Teeth. Breath. Heat. Fury.

Her back hit the wall. His hands tangled in her hair. She yanked him closer like she wanted to bruise him with love.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t polite.

It was everything they refused to admit.

He pulled away just long enough to rest his forehead on hers, their breaths crashing together.

“This,” Adrian said, his voice shaking for the first time since she met him, “is what terrifies me.”

She cupped his face — the touch he didn’t deserve but craved.

“Then be terrified with me.”

His restraint shattered.

He lifted her — effortlessly, possessively — and kissed her again, deeper, slower now, like worship after war. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her fingers buried in his hair. When he finally tore his mouth from hers, both of them were trembling.

“You’re mine,” he whispered.

She didn’t argue.

Because for the first time…

she wanted to be.