CHAPTER NINE

Adrian’s POV

The amber liquid in Adrian’s glass caught the flickering light of the fireplace, casting golden hues that danced across the mahogany walls of his study. The room, adorned with shelves of leather-bound books and antique artifacts, exuded an air of timeless elegance. Yet, amidst this grandeur, a palpable tension lingered, thickening the air like an impending storm.

He swirled the whiskey, watching the liquid form gentle whirlpools, mirroring the turmoil within him. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the distant ticking of an ornate grandfather clock.

His gaze drifted to the phone lying face-up on the desk. The message he had sent to Sienna earlier that day remained unanswered. “Can we talk?” Simple, yet laden with the weight of unspoken emotions and regrets.

He leaned back, the leather chair creaking under his weight, and closed his eyes. Memories flooded in, unbidden and relentless.

Reminiscing

He remembered the first time he saw Sienna.

It had been one of those high-society charity galas, the kind brimming with people desperate to be seen, to matter. A ballroom drenched in chandeliers’ glow and dulled conversation, glasses clinking against the backdrop of a string quartet. And there she was — not the most extravagantly dressed, not the loudest laugh in the room. But God, she was gravity.

The moment their eyes met across the crowded space, something inside him stilled. The air between them seemed to hum with a frequency no one else could hear. She wore a simple wine-colored gown, her dark hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, her lips curled in a private smile meant for no one, and yet — it felt meant for him.

She carried herself like a secret. Something precious and dangerous all at once.

They’d spoken for the first time on the balcony outside the ballroom, the city skyline spilling out behind her. He remembered how the wind caught her hair, and how, in a voice as soft as silk but lined with quiet steel, she’d said, “You look like a man used to getting what he wants.”

And just like that — she had him.

Years of Love, Years of Loss

Their years together had been made of moments like that. Quick wit, sharp tongues, deeper touches. The sound of her laughter in the kitchen at midnight, wearing one of his shirts and no makeup, teasing him mercilessly over his terrible taste in jazz. The way she could fold into him like she was made for that space — his space.

But it wasn’t perfect. It never was.

There were fights, sharp enough to bleed. Words thrown like daggers in the dark. And then — the distance. He’d started slipping away first. Not intentionally, but the demands of his empire, the allure of being wanted, admired, envied — it chipped away at the foundation of what they had.

Then came Chloe.

His fleeting infatuation.

She was young. Bright. Breathless. The kind of woman you didn’t love so much as consume, a distraction dressed in silk and secrets. Adrian had convinced himself it was what he needed. A balm to the relentless ache Sienna left behind in every room she exited.

But Chloe was nothing like Sienna.

No sharp wit. No hidden depths. She laughed at the wrong jokes, flinched at difficult conversations, and held none of that fire he both loved and loathed in Sienna.

Six months. That’s all it took for the illusion to shatter. Chloe’s demands turned venomous, her threats sharper. When she finally left — taking his money and pieces of his reputation — she fled to Australia with some yacht-owning playboy, leaving behind nothing but a scorched trail of headlines and whispered scandals.

Present

And now here he was.

Alone.

His heart heavier with every year.

And then there were those words… The kids will be waiting.

Adrian swallowed hard, the burn of whiskey nothing compared to the sting in his chest.

Children.

What children?

His hand clenched around the glass.

Could they be his? Was it possible? The timeline… it worked. But Sienna wasn’t the type to keep something like that from him. Or was she? After what he did, after choosing another, after walking away when she needed him most… had she made the decision to shut him out forever?

And if not his — whose?

He refused to picture her with another man, holding another’s child, building a life that should’ve been his. It was unbearable.

No… she wouldn’t… would she?

He snatched his phone, opening his gallery, fingers moving with something close to desperation. His thumb hovered over the trash icon. Then he dove in, scrolling — months, years of discarded memories, images he thought purging would purge the ache.

And then he found it.

A photo of them.

A private dinner — just them, candles flickering low, city lights bleeding in through the penthouse windows behind them. Sienna had leaned across the table, one hand curled around a glass of wine, the other brushing his cheek as he smiled like a man who had everything.

Adrian’s throat tightened.

That version of him didn’t exist anymore.

Now he was just another man growing older in empty rooms, chasing ghosts he could never catch.

The Call

Without thinking, he dialed.

The line connected.

“Sir,” came the crisp voice of his assistant, startled to be summoned at this hour.

“I need you to start following Sienna,” Adrian said, his voice a low, steady command.

A pause.

“Sir… is that… wise?”

“I don’t pay you for your wisdom, Voss. I pay you for your discretion. I want to know everything. Where she goes. Who she sees. If… if there are children. I need to know.”

Another pause. Then, “Understood.”

Adrian ended the call without another word.

He stood slowly, the room spinning faintly with the heavy blend of liquor and memories. He made his way down the darkened hall to his bedroom, shrugging off his jacket, the silence pressing in around him like a second skin.

Lying back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, he wondered how it had come to this.

A man with power, money, influence — and yet, helpless against the ghost of one woman.

Sleep claimed him slowly, the burn of unsaid words and unfinished love dulling his thoughts.

The Call That Changed Everything

The phone’s ring split the darkness.

A shrill, jarring sound.

Adrian groaned, reaching for it, squinting at the screen.

Unknown Number.

The time read 10:04 PM.

How the hell had he slept this long?

He answered.

At first, nothing.

Only the faint sound of static, of breathing.

“Who is this?” he growled.

Then, a voice.

Raspy. Cold. Final.

“The children… they’re yours.”

Adrian shot upright, his pulse pounding in his ears.

“What… what did you say? Who is this?”

But the line had already gone dead.

The words hung in the air, heavier than the night itself.

By dawn or by death, he thought grimly.

He would have answers.

And nothing — not the past, not Leo Castile, not even Sienna herself — would keep him from them.