Page 181 of The Obedient Lie
I felt…held.
Fed. Anchored. Watched.
“Finish your breakfast,” Luca whispered, lips against my temple. “Then maybe we’ll get you back to bed.”
“For more sleep?”
He smirked — voice low, sinful. “Sure.”
Chapter Forty-Four
EMILIA
The stadium roared like a beast.
Deafening. Restless. Drunk on dynasty politics.
And I couldn’t breathe.
I stood in the corridor beneath the seats, buried under layers of glass and concrete and dynasty expectations — and it felt like the walls were closing in.
The Cartier family had arrived early.
Their box was lit up like a stage.
Their champagne flutes raised.
Their eyes on me.
Because they thought they’d already won.
Because someone in my bloodline — someone who shared the samefuckinglast name — was finalizing a merger.
A deal. A contract that would lock me into their empire like a leveraged asset.
My chest tightened.
No.It clamped.Like an iron band wrapping around my ribs. My throat went dry. My ears started ringing. I could feel it building.
The silk dress scratched against my skin. Too tight. Tootailored. Too perfectly crafted to make me look like an Adams jewel.
I don’t want to be seen like this. I don’t want to be touched by them.
My hand trembled as I gripped the edge of a pillar, trying to steady myself. Trying to slow my breathing.
Inhale. Exhale. Control it.
But the panic didn’t listen. It rose like a tide — cold, choking, merciless.
My knees gave out.
I slumped against the wall, crouched low in the corridor as voices echoed overhead.
Legacy daughters. Cartiers. Journalists with sleek lenses whispering about alliances and heirs and the Adams–Cartier merger projected to close by the end of the season.
Close.
Like it was done.
