Chapter 7 Seven
“What did you say?” I breathed, my heart thumping against my ribs.
Adnan didn’t drop the pendant. His fingers stayed brushed against the sensitive skin of my collarbone, his dark gaze locked onto my eyes. The heat radiating off his body was overwhelming, making the cool, air-conditioned dance studio feel like a furnace.
“I said, it suits you,” Adnan murmured, his voice dropping an octave, raspy and thick. “A real princess.”
I pulled backward, my heels clicking sharply against the polished wood floor. The sudden movement forced him to let go of the silver metal. It dropped against my chest with a tiny clink.
“Don’t do that,” I said, trying desperately to steady my breathing. “Don't say things you don't mean just to mess with my head, Captain.”
Adnan raised an eyebrow. He shoved his hands deep into his hoodie pockets.
“Who says I don't mean it?”
“You don't even like me!” I snapped, crossing my arms defensively. “On Monday, you slammed the door in my face. You called me a teen girl and an annoying bug. Now you're standing in my practice room making my...” I bit my tongue, cutting myself off before I could say ‘making my heart flip.’
“Making your what?” Adnan stepped forward again, instantly closing the distance I had just created. “Finish the sentence, Princess.”
“Making me late for your post-practice meal schedule,” I lied smoothly, lifting my chin to glare right back at him. “We have exactly twenty minutes to get back to the penthouse before your metabolism window closes. Move your feet.”
Adnan let out a short, rough amused chuckle. “You really don't back down, do you?”
“Never,” I said, grabbing my gym bag from the floor. “Now let’s go.”
We walked out of the campus sports center together, our steps falling into a strange, rhythmic sync. The sun was setting over the university quad, casting long, orange shadows across the concrete. Students bustled past, chatting and laughing, but the moment they saw Adnan, the crowd naturally parted. He was the king of this campus, feared and idolized.
And I was just the girl walking right beside him.
“Aadee! Hey, Aadee!”
A loud voice broke the silence. I turned my head to see a tall, broad-shouldered guy running toward us from the student parking lot. He was wearing the same official university hockey jacket as Adnan.
Adnan stopped, his jaw clenching tightly. “What do you want, Miller?”
Miller slowed to a stop, catching his breath. His eyes immediately darted from Adnan to me, wide with curiosity.
“Man, the coach is looking for you. Your dad called the athletic department again. He’s furious about the commercial endorsement contract you refused to sign this morning.”
Adnan’s entire aura turned instantly sub-zero. “Tell the coach I’ll handle my father. It’s none of the team’s business.”
“He’s threatening to pull the corporate sponsorship for the new arena ice rink, Aadee,” Miller said, his voice dropping to a nervous whisper. “The board is panicking. If your dad pulls the funds, the team loses our prime training hours. You need to fix this.”
“I said, I’ll handle it,” Adnan growled, his fists tightening inside his pockets so hard the fabric strained. “Go away.”
Miller swallowed hard, took a step back, and nodded quickly before sprinting away.
I watched the exchange, my mind racing. I pulled my clipboard from my bag and checked the agency notes. There was a small, underlined warning at the bottom of the page:
‘The client's father enforces strict corporate expectations. Monitor client’s stress indicators.’
“Your father owns the arena sponsorship?” I asked softly as we resumed walking toward his parked sports car.
“He owns everything,” Adnan spat, his voice laced with bitterness. “He doesn't see hockey as a sport. He sees me as a billboard for his financial firm. If I don't play by his rules, he squeezes the team until I break.”
“Are you going to break?” I asked, looking up at his profile.
Adnan stopped at the driver's side door. He turned to me, his dark eyes filled with intense pressure that made my chest tighten.
“I don't break, Princess. But he’s going to make the next few weeks a living hell for anyone standing near me. Including you.”
“I’ve survived eighteen years of psychological warfare with the Thompsons,” I said, meeting his gaze without a hint of fear. “Your billionaire dad doesn't scare me.”
A strange approving look passed through Adnan’s eyes. “You talk big for someone so short.”
“Just watch me,” I countered, walking around to the other side and throwing open the passenger door. “Get in. I'll drive!” I gestured toward the steering wheel with a smirk.
He rolled his eyes, tossing his duffel bag into the back before sliding into the driver's seat.
“You don't even have a driver's license, Princess Short. Who do you want to kill?”
“You...” I huffed, buckling my seatbelt as the engine roared to life.
The drive back downtown was almost quiet, the silence heavy but no longer hostile. Adnan parked the car in the secure penthouse garage, and we headed straight for the elevator.
The moment the elevator doors dinged open directly into the private foyer of the penthouse floor, my phone vibrated violently in my skirt pocket. I pulled it out, expecting another screaming text from my adopted mother about her laundry.
Instead, it was an official email notification from the Vanguard Modeling Agency—the top elite fashion house in the city.
My breath caught in my throat. I quickly tapped the message open, my eyes scanning the text.
[Dear Miss Rodriguez,
We are pleased to inform you that your application for the Upcoming Talents Runway Showcase has been approved. Preliminary fittings and ranking rounds begin tomorrow morning at nine AM sharp at the Vanguard Headquarters downtown. Please bring your portfolio.]
“Oh my God,” I whispered, dropping my gym bag onto the hallway floor.
Adnan paused halfway through the front door of the penthouse, turning around with a frown.
“What happened? Did your family call again?”
“No,” I gasped, a massive, brilliant smile breaking across my face. I looked up at him, my eyes shining. “I got in. Adnan, I got into the Vanguard Showcase! This is the biggest modeling platform in the state. Real international scouts are going to be there!”
Adnan stared at me, his stone mask completely dissolving into a genuine, warm expression. “You got the audition?”
“Yes!” I cheered, completely forgetting about our strict boundaries. I took two quick steps forward into the penthouse and threw my arms around his massive neck, hugging him tightly. “I actually got in!”
The moment my body hit his chest, I froze. Adnan didn't push me away.
Instead, his massive arms came up, wrapping securely around my waist. He lifted me completely off my feet, pulling me hard against his broad, solid frame. The scent of winter air and mint enveloped me entirely. My heart hammered wildly against his chest, and for a second, the entire world stopped spinning.
He held me in the air for three long, breathless seconds before slowly lowering my feet back to the hardwood floor of the living room. His hands stayed resting on my waist, his thumbs tracing tiny circles through the fabric of my top.
Our faces were inches apart.
I could see the dark golden flecks in his eyes.
“Congratulations, Princess,” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips.
My voice completely deserted me. The romantic tension between us was so thick, so electric, that I couldn't move a single muscle. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and I felt a sudden, desperate urge to lean forward.
Suddenly, the mahogany front door behind us, which hadn't clicked shut all the way, slammed open with a loud thud.
We both jumped back, breaking the embrace instantly.
A tall, impeccably dressed man in a tailored three-piece suit stepped forcefully into the penthouse living room. He had graying hair, cold blue eyes, and a face that looked exactly like a harsher, older version of Adnan.
Two burly security guards stood directly behind him in the doorway.
The man stopped, his icy eyes scanning the messy counter before landing directly on me with disgust.
“So,” the man said, his voice cutting through the room like a frozen whip. “This is the cheap little maid my money is paying for.”
Adnan instantly stepped in front of me, his massive shoulders completely shielding me from the man's view.
“Father. What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”
Hayatt Satoff stepped fully into the room, his eyes narrowing as he glared at his son.
“I came to tell you that your little rebellious streak ends today, Adnan. You will sign the endorsement contract tonight, or I will personally ensure this little gutter girl loses her university scholarship by tomorrow morning.”
