His Dark Reign

11. A crown in her shadow

Adam had always hated the cafeteria. It was a stage where the same play was performed every day: Sanchez at the center, laughing too loudly, Elena shining at his side, and everyone else orbiting like planets around their sun.

Today, Adam wasn’t just watching. Today, he was calculating.

Elena. Perfect Elena. Her laugh was sugar and venom, her beauty the proof of Sanchez’s dominance. If Adam could take her away—or better, break her—Sanchez would lose more than his queen. He’d lose his crown.

Shatter her, Malick whispered. Seduce her, poison her, humiliate her—she is the key to his ruin.

Adam smirked. “One move at a time,” he murmured under his breath.

He waited until Elena broke from Sanchez’s table to throw her trash away. Timing was everything.

“Hey,” Adam said smoothly, stepping into her path.

Her brows knit together. “Oh. You’re—”

“Adam,” he finished for her, smiling faintly. “The one everyone talks about lately.”

That caught her off guard. She hesitated, then gave a small laugh. “Yeah. You’ve… changed.”

He leaned closer just enough to lower his voice. “Funny thing about people changing. Sometimes it’s because they see who their enemies really are.”

Her smile faltered, just for a heartbeat, and Adam saw the crack. He could use this. He could twist it.

“Anyway,” he said, stepping back smoothly, “you deserve better company than Sanchez. Think about it.”

Elena blinked at him, unsure how to respond. By the time she turned back to her table, Adam was already walking away, hiding his grin. The seed was planted.

---

But then, the cafeteria doors opened, and everything shifted.

A girl walked in, tall and poised, with hair as black as midnight and eyes sharp enough to cut glass. She moved as though she owned the ground under her feet, and when her gaze swept the room, it landed directly on Adam.

She smiled. Slow. Knowing.

Malick hissed in Adam’s head: She is not normal. She reeks of power. Beware her, vessel.

Adam didn’t look away. He couldn’t. For once, it wasn’t Elena, or Sanchez, or anyone else on his mind. It was her.

Lilith.

---

Later that day, Adam found Elena again, this time by the lockers. She jumped slightly when he appeared, but she didn’t walk away.

“You really shouldn’t talk like that,” she said nervously. “Sanchez doesn’t like—”

“I don’t care what Sanchez likes,” Adam interrupted. His voice was calm, but his eyes locked onto hers with a force that made her swallow hard. “Maybe you shouldn’t either.”

Her lips parted as though to answer, but before she could, a voice rang down the hall.

“New girl alert,” someone muttered.

Lilith leaned casually against the lockers down the hall, her gaze fixed on Adam. She tilted her head, smiling like she knew a secret.

Elena turned, saw her, and frowned, her attention already torn away. Adam’s plan was unraveling before it even began.

---

That night, Adam sat at his desk, scribbling notes. Elena was still the goal, but the timing had to be right. He’d start with Marcus—break the enforcer, show Elena that Sanchez couldn’t even protect his right hand. Then, he’d move in for the kill.

But as he planned, sirens wailed in the distance. Adam frowned, checked his phone.

MARCUS IN HOSPITAL. BOTH ARMS BROKEN.

Adam’s blood ran cold. That was his idea. Exactly how he had pictured it.

“But I didn’t touch him,” he whispered.

The shadows in his room writhed. Malick’s voice thundered, furious: Someone else is hunting for you.

Adam stared at the darkness, his heart pounding. His revenge was unfolding step by step—only it wasn’t his hand striking.

For the first time, Adam felt it.

Not triumph. Not power.

Fear.