Confliction

Andrian’s pov

I stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the cuffs of my blazer, trying to convince myself that this was just another night. The kind of night I’d been enduring my entire life, dinners filled with false laughter, political agendas, and people who couldn’t care less about me but worshipped my family name.

The reflection staring back at me didn’t look like an eighteen-year-old boy. The sharp suit, the slicked-back hair, the perfectly rehearsed ...