The persistent hum of the city faded into the soft whir of the car engine as Adelie Williams navigated the familiar New York streets. The setting sun cast long, orange shadows, painting the skyscrapers in hues of tired gold. Another day at the office, another performance. She was Adelie, the accomplished young woman, the heiress who chose to make her own way. But beneath the surface, a different truth pulsed, a truth that made her stomach clench with dread the closer she got to the imposing gates of her family home. The traffic, a usual annoyance, today felt like a reprieve, a few more precious moments before the suffocating reality of Asher’s presence.

Her phone buzzed, a jarring sound in the quiet hum of the car. Asher. She saw his name, and a wave of familiar nausea washed over her. Her hand, almost on instinct, recoiled, dropping the device as if it were burning her skin. She didn't need to answer. She knew what he wanted. He always wanted. And the thought was a chilling promise of the night ahead.