Chapter Four : The enemy’s secret

The moment the news segment ended, the air in the villa thickened with tension. The flickering light from the television cast uneven shadows across the walls, but Juniper was focused solely on Adrian.

He stood near the couch, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought it might crack. His fists were curled at his sides, the tendons in his forearms visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp white shirt. He hadn’t moved since the broadcast started, but his silence was louder than any outburst.

Juniper crossed her arms. “That was quite the headline,” she said, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade.

Adrian didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached for the remote, his movements precise, and turned off the TV with a sharp click.

“News exaggerates,” he said smoothly, but there was something too controlled about the way he said it, as if he were gripping the edges of his patience.

Juniper narrowed her eyes. “Right. And you just happen to be the unfortunate billionaire caught in the middle of a ‘misunderstanding’?”

He exhaled sharply and turned toward the bar cart in the corner. The crystal decanters gleamed under the dim light, their contents sloshing slightly as he poured himself a drink.

“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered, raising the glass to his lips.

Juniper followed, closing the distance before he could take a sip. She planted her hands on the counter, blocking him. “Make time, Blackwood.”

He paused. His grip tightened around the glass, but he didn’t move.

“You really think I’d be stupid enough to get caught if I were actually doing something illegal?”

“I don’t know,” she said, tilting her head. “You do a lot of stupid things.”

That got a reaction. Adrian’s eyes flicked to hers, sharp as glass, piercing and unreadable.

“Careful, Hale,” he murmured, his voice low and warning. “You’re in my house.”

She didn’t back down. “And you’re in a mess. The question is, are you guilty, or just arrogant enough to think you could get away with it?”

Adrian’s fingers twitched at his side. He was a man who prided himself on control, yet something about this accusation was unsettling him.

Juniper studied him carefully. “You’re hiding something.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Drop it.”

“No.”

He turned away, shoulders tensing. “Then enjoy chasing ghosts.”

The conversation was over.

For now.

Later That Night

The storm had passed, but the sky remained thick with heavy clouds. The distant rumble of thunder echoed over the ocean, and the rhythmic crash of waves against the cliffs filled the night air.

Juniper paced the dimly lit hallway of the villa, her bare feet silent against the cool marble floor. She had tried to sleep, but Adrian’s behavior kept replaying in her mind. The way he had avoided her questions. The tension in his posture. The cold finality in his voice when he told her to drop it.

Adrian Blackwood was hiding something.

And Juniper Hale had never been good at letting things go.

Her gaze flicked toward the hallway leading to his office.

She had seen the way he retreated there after dinner, shutting himself away with his laptop and a glass of whiskey. He had barely spoken to her, lost in whatever secrets he was keeping.

If Adrian Blackwood had a truth he didn’t want her to find, she was going to dig until she unearthed it.

She moved carefully, stepping lightly, her breath steady. The villa was eerily silent, the only sound the faint hum of the wind outside.

Reaching the office door, she hesitated, pressing her ear against the wood.

Silence.

She wrapped her fingers around the handle and twisted.

Unlocked.

The moment she stepped inside, the scent of leather and expensive cologne surrounded her. The office was dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the tall windows, casting long, jagged shadows across the sleek furniture.

Juniper moved toward the massive mahogany desk. Adrian’s sleek laptop sat open, the screen dark.

She tapped the trackpad.

The screen flickered to life.

A folder sat on the desktop labeled CONFIDENTIAL.

Juniper hesitated.

Then double-clicked.

A password prompt appeared.

Figures.

She glanced at the papers scattered across his desk—financial reports, lists of transactions, notes scribbled in Adrian’s bold, slanted handwriting.

Then, a sticky note caught her eye.

A.B.1989

She typed it in.

Incorrect.

She frowned. Maybe his mother’s name? His company? His yacht?

She tried Blackwood, Avalon, even Whiskey123 out of pure curiosity.

Nothing.

Her fingers drummed against the desk, frustration creeping in.

Then, beneath a pile of reports, another note.

A date.

The same one he had told her about during the storm.

The year his father had locked him on the boat.

Her heart pounded as she typed it in.

1999Storm

The folder opened.

Juniper’s stomach tightened as a list of encrypted files appeared on the screen. The file names were a mess of numbers and letters, but one word stood out among them.

“Langford.”

Her breath caught.

Victoria Langford.

Adrian’s ex-fiancée.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. What the hell was she doing in his private files?

She clicked on the file.

Another password.

Juniper clenched her jaw. The fact that these files existed at all meant something.

She took out her phone to snap a picture—

A noise outside.

Juniper froze.

The sound of footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.

Her pulse pounded. She quickly shut the laptop and backed away, her breath shallow.

The footsteps weren’t coming from Adrian’s room.

They were coming from the hallway.

A prickle ran down her spine.

She swallowed hard and reached for the light switch. But just as her fingers brushed it—

The power cut out.

Darkness swallowed the villa.

Her breath hitched.

Somewhere nearby, a faint creak echoed—the unmistakable sound of a door opening.

Someone was in the house.

Juniper pressed herself against the wall, her phone clenched tightly in her fist.

Her fingers trembled as she typed a message.

Juniper: Someone’s here. Where are you?

Seconds passed.

Then her phone vibrated.

Adrian: Stay where you are. I’m coming.

A cold chill slid down her spine.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

And then—

A shadow passed by the office door.