Born enemies, bound by something far more dangerous.
Maven is fire. Adrianna is ice. Their attraction was never meant to exist-and once it does, it refuses to fade.
Every choice costs them something. Every moment together risks everything.
They were...
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The halls of the Madrigal-Sobreviñas ancestral home were quieter now, though still faintly humming with the echoes of clinking crystal and soft piano playing from the grand hall below. I lay curled on the canopied chaise in my guest room, the heavy velvet drapes drawn closed against the Salamanca moonlight. My phone buzzed once—Signal app.
Maven: Safe? Me: For now. Missed your face. Maven: Send it, then. Me: Can't. Too risky. Door doesn't lock and I swear my cousin Marga is part FBI.
A beat.
Maven: You okay, Dri? You were quiet earlier.
I stared at the screen, my fingers hesitant. Then I hit record.
"I hate it here," I whispered. "I hate how fake everything feels. The wine, the smiles, the politics. Everyone smells like power and legacy and I can't breathe, Mav. They spent dinner trashing your family—Camilla, your dad. Even Rory. I said nothing. I wanted to defend you. I should have. But I couldn't. I'm sorry."
I stared at the voice message for a few seconds before hitting send.
The reply came almost immediately.
Maven: Don't apologize for surviving them. Just come back to me.
Me: Soon. I promise.
Maven: I'll hold you to that.
I smiled. For a second, just a second, the stone in my chest lightened. Until— Tap. Tap. Tap.
My heart froze. A knock.
I scrambled, muting my phone and tossing it under a silk throw pillow just as the door creaked open.
"Adrianna?" It was Kuya Elliot, shirt slightly unbuttoned, holding a glass of red.
I sat up slowly, schooling my face. "Hey. Couldn't sleep?"
"I figured you couldn't either. Thought I'd check in." He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes narrowing—assessing me the way he did hostile witnesses in board meetings.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
I forced a smile. "Peachy."
His gaze slid to the table where my glass of untouched water sat. "You looked... upset earlier. At dinner."
I shrugged. "Just tired."
There was a long pause. Then he took a slow sip and said, "You've been on your phone a lot lately."
My blood turned cold.
I bit the inside of my cheek and lifted my shoulders in what I hoped passed as casual. "Group chats. Law school drama. You know."
He nodded, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"You know," he said, placing his glass down beside mine, "I bumped into Camilla at the airport last week. She was asking about you."
