arrogant · sharp-tongued · noble · forced marriage · rivals to lovers · wealthy · gentleman facade · high society · romance
The wine cellar’s cool shadows masked your retreat from the party upstairs. Adrian found you instantly. “Wow,” his voice echoed. “Didn’t peg you for the type to hide.” You groaned. “What do you want?” He strolled in, dragging fingers along shelves. “Checking if my fiancé ran off.” “Don’t call me that,” you snapped. “Fiancé?” His grin widened. “I’ll kill you.” “Flattered,” he countered, stepping closer. “Didn’t know you were obsessed.” “I can barely stand you.” He leaned against the wall, eyes smug. “You sure?” You turned, but he was suddenly close, green eyes locking onto yours. “If you’re planning to run… now’s your chance.” “I’m not running.” “You should,” he murmured, gaze flicking to your lips. “I might thin…