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Chapter 49
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2024-12-29 07:00:06I spent the rest of the morning pacing the living room, occasionally glaring at the invitation like it might disappear if I stared long enough.
It didn’t. By noon, I’d given up pretending I wasn’t bothered. Adrian’s mom wasn’t just testing him—she was testing me, too. And I hated the fact that part of me wanted to pass. The sound of the front door unlocking snapped me out of my thoughts. Adrian stepped inside, shrugging off his coat. His tie was loose, and his hair was a little messier than usual, but he looked just as put together as ever. He paused when he saw me standing in the middle of the room. “Didn’t move all morning, huh?” I crossed my arms. “Why do I feel like this dinner is a setup?” His lips twitched, but he didn’t quite smile. “Because it probably is.” I raised a brow. “That’s comforting.”
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The house was eerily quiet, except for the faint clicking of my heels against the marble floors. It wasn’t a comforting silence. If anything, it felt like the calm before a storm—one I wasn’t ready for.I stopped at the doorway to Adrian’s study, watching as he skimmed through papers at his desk. He looked up, his sharp eyes softening when they met mine.“You’re home late,” he said, leaning back in his chair.“I ran into your mother,” I replied, trying to keep my voice light. “Apparently, she’s organizing some big charity fundraiser.”Adrian’s brows twitched in mild recognition, but he didn’t seem particularly interested. “Oh, that. She does it every year.”I shifted on my feet. “Did you know Elizabeth’s involved this time?”That caught his attention. His gaze sharpened slightly. “Elizabeth?”“Yeah. She and Alexandra are co-hosting. Your mom mentioned it like it was supposed to be obvious.” I crossed my arms, raising a b
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I should’ve known something was wrong the second Alexandra smiled at me.She and Elizabeth had summoned Adrian and me to the Whitmore estate for what they called a “family meeting.” I assumed it was another round of subtle jabs and polite insults disguised as advice.I had been to the Knight estate on several occasions but I still couldn't help being amazed every time I came. It looked like something pulled straight from an old black-and-white film. Grand, sprawling gardens stretched far beyond the eye could see, and the main house loomed in the distance—stone walls covered in ivy, tall glass windows that reflected the pale afternoon sun like mirrors. I could practically feel the weight of its history pressing down on me the moment I stepped through the gates.It was beautiful.And suffocating.“Thank you for coming,” Alexandra said, her voice clipped as always, though there was a thin veil of politeness stretched over her words today. She was
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“Are you sure about this?” Adrian’s voice was quiet, but there was a weight behind it as he adjusted his cufflinks, the soft clink echoing in the silence of our room.I met his gaze in the mirror, watching his reflection as he lingered behind me. His tie hung loosely around his neck, undone, like he wasn’t entirely convinced he wanted to go either.“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, smoothing down the navy silk dress Alexandra had insisted I wear. Elegant, understated—chosen with precision. The kind of dress that blended into the background.Adrian’s hands brushed lightly against my shoulders, his touch hesitant. “They didn’t mean to leave you out of the planning, Mia. It’s just… this gala has been in motion for months. Before—” He paused, like the word itself might offend me. “…before you.”Before me.I focused on clasping the delicate necklace around my throat, avoiding his eyes. “I know. I’m not upset.”Lying had become second nature. I've had to move on very quickly from every situatio
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“Smile, Mia. You look like you’re being dragged to your own execution.”Adrian’s voice was soft, but the sharp edge beneath it made me glance up. His hand rested lightly against the curve of my back as we stepped out of the car, cameras flashing like miniature lightning strikes across the entrance of the Knight estate.I plastered on the kind of smile I’d perfected over the past few weeks—polite, distant, and just believable enough to pass.“I didn’t realize this was part of the deal,” I said under my breath, watching the swarm of photographers behind the velvet ropes.“It wasn’t supposed to be,” Adrian replied, voice tight as he guided me forward. “Alexandra must have invited the press.”Of course, she had.Tonight wasn’t just a party. It was a performance.The Knights’ private art auction—an exclusive, invitation-only affair that had more to do with power than paintings. It wasn’t about selling art. It was about influence. The right smile, the right conversation—carefully cultivated
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I pulled the pins from my hair one by one, letting them scatter onto the vanity as I sat in front of the mirror. The soft hum of the city outside crept in through the open window, filling the silence Adrian left behind when he disappeared into his office after the auction leaving me all alone in this gigantic room. We had stayed behind at the family house because Alexandra insisted it was too late to go back to our house. Now I'm stuck here with my not so friendly mother in-law and the mysterious Elizabeth.I stared at my reflection, watching as the makeup faded from my skin like a mask slowly slipping away.Tonight hadn’t gone as badly as I’d expected.But it hadn’t gone well, either.A soft knock at the door broke my thoughts.I already knew who it was.“Come in,” I said without turning.Adrian stepped inside, his tie loose around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His jacket was long gone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the sharp angles of his forearms.I me
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I lingered outside the study door long after Alexandra’s voice faded into silence. The soft hum of conversation resumed, muffled now, like they knew I was still standing there.The weight of her last words pressed down on me, curling tightly around my chest.I can handle Adrian. It’s his wife I’m worried about.The hallway stretched ahead, dark and empty, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were following me as I made my way back to the bedroom.Adrian was still asleep when I returned, his arm sprawled across my side of the bed. I stood at the edge for a long moment, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest.His hair had fallen over his forehead, softening the sharp edges of his face. In sleep, Adrian looked almost vulnerable. Almost.I slipped beneath the covers carefully, but the moment my head hit the pillow, his arm instinctively pulled me closer.“Mia…” he mumbled sleepily, his voice heavy with exhaustion
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The garden was the only place that felt quiet enough to think.By mid-morning, the sun warmed the stone pathways, but a cold breeze cut through the hedges, carrying the faint scent of roses and lavender. I followed the winding trail, footsteps soft against the gravel, letting the silence press around me.Alexandra’s words from the night before refused to let go.I can handle Adrian. It’s his wife I’m worried about.I’d replayed it over and over, trying to make sense of the edge in her voice, the guarded way she looked at me whenever Adrian wasn’t in the room.Elizabeth said Alexandra wasn’t an enemy.But the more time I spent here, the more I doubted that.I wasn’t imagining it.Adrian was hiding something. And Alexandra? She knew exactly what it was.I paused near the stone fountain, watching as water spilled over the marble edges.Somewhere behind me, footsteps approached.I knew who it was before I turned.“You’re brooding again.”Adrian’s voice cut softly through the air, but ther
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"I'm leaving, Adrian."The words felt heavy as they left my mouth, like stones sinking to the bottom of a lake. I hadn’t planned to say them—not this morning, not with him standing so close, watching me like he already knew something was wrong. But once the words were out, I couldn’t take them back.Adrian’s gaze lifted from the papers on his desk, eyes narrowing slightly as if he hadn’t heard me right. "You’re what?"I folded my arms, holding onto the only thing keeping me upright—pride. "I’m going to see my family. I just need a few days away, that’s all."His pen stilled between his fingers. "Mia, if something happened—""Nothing happened," I interrupted, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. "I just… I haven’t seen them in a while. I thought it would be nice to check in."Lie.I could feel the weight of it pressing down on my chest. This wasn’t about missing my family. It wasn’t even about them.I was scared.The longer I stayed in this house, the more I felt the
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Adrian stepped toward the dock and gestured to the rowboat. “Shall we?”I hesitated, eyeing the boat skeptically. “You expect me to get in that thing? Do I look like someone who knows how to row?”He smirked, already untying the rope. “You won’t have to. I’ll do the hard part. You just sit back and enjoy.”I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. “You’re really trying to sell this, aren’t you?”“Come on, Mia,” he said, holding a hand out to me. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”I couldn’t resist the challenge in his tone. With a resigned sigh, I took his hand and let him help me into the boat. It rocked slightly as I settled onto the bench, and I shot Adrian a glare.“If this thing tips, I’m blaming you,” I said, gripping the edge of the boat for dear life.“Noted,” he replied, climbing in after me with practiced ease. “Although, if you end up in the water, it’ll be your fault for not trusting my impeccable boating skills.”“Oh, impeccable, huh?” I shot back. “Let me guess, you’re secr
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The house was eerily quiet after Max left. It was like someone had flipped a switch, silencing the tornado of energy that had been spinning through the rooms for the past two days. I stood in the living room, surveying the wreckage. Pillows were strewn across the floor, one of Max’s toy cars was stuck under the couch, and there was a faint trace of whipped cream on the coffee table that neither of us had bothered to clean up.Adrian walked in, holding two glasses of water. “It’s almost too quiet now, isn’t it?”I accepted the glass he handed me and took a sip. “Yeah, I feel like I should be hearing a six-year-old yelling about superheroes or pancakes.”Adrian chuckled, sitting down on the couch. He looked relaxed, but there was a certain heaviness to his expression that hadn’t been there earlier.“Did he tire you out that much?” I teased, plopping down next to him.“Not just him,” Adrian replied, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Parenting—even the fake kind—is exhausti
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It was well past Max’s bedtime when the house finally quieted. After a long day of non-stop energy, the kid had collapsed in the guest bedroom, clutching his toy robot like it was the most precious thing in the world.Adrian and I stood in the hallway outside his room, listening to his soft snores.“Well,” I said, keeping my voice low. “That was...an experience.”Adrian rubbed the back of his neck, looking as if he’d just finished running a marathon. “I don’t know how parents do this every day.”“Admit it, you had fun,” I teased.He shot me a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “Define ‘fun.’”“Oh, come on. You were laughing at the park. You helped him build a tower out of those blocks at the toy store. And don’t think I didn’t see you trying to beat his high score on that arcade game.”Adrian’s lips twitched, but he didn’t respond.I leaned closer, smirking. “You’re a softie, aren’t you?”“Hardly,” he said, though the faint pink creeping up his neck betrayed him.Shaking my h
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The next morning, I woke up to the unmistakable sound of pots clanging in the kitchen. Groaning, I checked the time—6:12 a.m. Too early for anything except coffee.As I stumbled out of the bedroom, I nearly tripped over a small robot toy parked in the hallway. Max’s backpack was propped up against the wall, and a trail of crayons led straight to the kitchen like breadcrumbs.When I reached the kitchen, the scene nearly stopped me in my tracks.Max stood on a stool, wearing one of Adrian’s button-up shirts as an oversized apron, flour smudged on his cheeks. Adrian was next to him, looking like he’d aged ten years overnight. His usual crisp morning appearance was replaced with a wrinkled t-shirt and dark circles under his eyes.“Good morning,” I said cautiously, stepping inside. “What’s going on here?”Max turned to me with a bright smile. “We’re making pancakes!”“We are not making pancakes,” Adrian corrected, his voice sharp. “We are ruining my kitchen.”“I’m helping!” Max protested,
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“You’re not answering the door?” Adrian asked, his eyes flicking toward the sharp knock echoing through the mansion.“It’s your house,” I replied, lazily sipping my coffee. “Could be one of your mysterious business associates.”Adrian sighed, setting down his tablet. “Or a solicitor. Last time someone showed up unannounced, it was a guy trying to sell me a custom mailbox shaped like a yacht.”“Well, don’t keep them waiting. Could be your next yacht mailbox,” I teased, smirking.Rolling his eyes, Adrian pushed back his chair and walked to the door. “If it’s something ridiculous, you’re dealing with it next time,” he muttered under his breath.The moment he opened the door, a whirlwind of energy burst into the room in the form of a petite woman with sharp features, silver-streaked hair, and an air of authority that made me sit up straighter.“Adrian, darling, I need your help,” the woman announced, stepping inside as though she owned the place.“Eleanor,” Adrian said warily, his posture
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It started with a search for coffee.I was wandering Adrian’s massive mansion one morning, wearing one of his oversized shirts and a pair of fuzzy socks, when I found myself hopelessly lost.“This place is ridiculous,” I muttered, peering into yet another empty room. “Who even needs this many doors?”Adrian had mentioned that the kitchen was “just down the hall,” but the hallways in his house seemed to stretch on forever. Just as I was about to give up and text him for help, I noticed something odd about one of the walls.It wasn’t a wall at all. It was a door—one cleverly disguised to blend in with the wood-paneled hallway.“What’s this?” I murmured, my curiosity immediately piqued.I pushed the door open and stepped inside, expecting to find a storage closet or maybe a boring office. Instead, I found a room that took my breath away.---The space was bathed in soft, natural light filtering through skylights. The walls were lined with shelves crammed with sketchbooks, canvases, and j
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Adrian didn’t know what hit him when I proposed a spontaneous road trip.“A road trip?” he repeated, his brow furrowed as he glanced at the neatly packed duffel bags sitting by the door. “Mia, you’re aware we’re not teenagers anymore, right?”“Exactly why we should do it!” I said, looping my arm through his and giving him my best puppy-dog eyes. “It’s not like we have meetings to attend or deadlines to meet this weekend. Think of it as a mini getaway. Just you, me, and the open road.”He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe with a skeptical expression. “And let me guess—you already have an itinerary planned out?”“Of course,” I said, holding up my phone. “I mapped out all the best stops. Scenic views, quirky diners, maybe even a haunted inn.”“A haunted inn?” His brow shot up. “Why does it feel like I’m walking into one of your chaotic schemes again?”“Because you are,” I replied cheerfully, grabbing his hand. “Now come on, Mr. Grumpy. Live a little.”He sighed, pinching th
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I was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through social media when inspiration struck. A video of a couple recreating the famous dance scene from The Notebook caught my eye. They twirled and laughed under fairy lights, the kind of perfection that made hopeless romantics sigh.“This is so cute,” I muttered to myself, tapping on the hashtag #CoupleGoalsChallenge and diving into a rabbit hole of clips. Each video featured couples doing things that ranged from heartwarming to outright silly—romantic dances, baking disasters, matching outfits, and even lip-syncing battles.The idea hit me like a bolt of lightning. I was already grinning by the time Adrian walked into the living room, holding a steaming mug of coffee.“What are you plotting now?” he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow as he caught sight of my overly enthusiastic expression.“I’m not plotting. I’m... brainstorming,” I said, tucking my phone behind me like it wasn’t filled with ideas that would probably make him regret being in
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“I don’t know about you,” Adrian said, his voice warm and teasing as he leaned against the kitchen counter, “but I think we need to set some ground rules.”“Ground rules?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I poured myself a cup of coffee. “Is this your way of saying you’re already regretting this?”His lips curved into a smirk, but there was no mistaking the softness in his gaze. “No, Mia. I’m saying if we’re going to do this—really do this—I don’t want to screw it up.”I set my mug down and turned to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Okay, Mr. Rule Maker. Let’s hear it. What are these so-called ground rules?”Adrian pushed off the counter and took a step closer, his presence commanding as always. But this time, there was a gentleness to his movements, a vulnerability that made my heart skip a beat. “Rule number one,” he began, his voice low and serious. “We don’t keep secrets. If something’s bothering you, you tell me. No more guessing games.”I raised an eyebrow, leaning again
