Chapter Seven : The Walkaway

The sharp wind of New York City whipped against Juniper’s face as she stepped out of the taxi, her coat billowing around her. The city felt colder than she remembered, harsher, less forgiving. Or maybe she was just different.

A week had passed since she had left the island. Seven days since Adrian had told her to walk away. Seven days of silence, of questions echoing in her mind, of restless nights spent staring at her ceiling, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now.

Adrian Blackwood was no longer just the billionaire she loathed. He was a man tangled in her past, in the deepest wound of her life, her mother’s death. And instead of answers, all she had was his cryptic confession and the slamming door of his villa.

She tightened her grip on her purse, forcing herself to focus. Whatever had happened between them, it didn’t matter now. The past was a ghost she had no intention of chasing.

She walked briskly through the glass doors of The Hale Foundation, her nonprofit’s headquarters, a modest three-story building in Lower Manhattan. It was nothing like the sleek, towering empire of Blackwood Industries, but it was hers.

The moment she stepped inside, Maria, her receptionist, practically vaulted over the front desk.

“Juniper! Have you seen the account?”

“What?” Juniper frowned, pulling off her gloves.

Maria shoved a tablet into her hands, eyes wide with barely contained excitement.

“We just got a donation. A big one.”

Juniper’s stomach clenched. “How big?”

Maria’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if saying it out loud would break the spell. “Seven figures.”

Juniper nearly dropped the tablet.

Her eyes flickered over the screen, scanning the transaction details.

One. Million. Dollars.

Her pulse spiked. “Who?”

Maria hesitated, then gave her a look.

Anonymous.

Juniper’s fingers clenched around the tablet. There was no need to ask. There was only one person who could drop a million dollars into her foundation like it was spare change.

Adrian.

Heat rose to her cheeks, not from excitement but from sheer fury.

Even now, after telling her to leave, after shutting her out, he was still pulling the strings.

Still trying to atone.

Her stomach twisted, a tangled mess of anger, frustration, and something she refused to name.

“Send it back,” she said sharply, thrusting the tablet at Maria.

Maria’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “Juniper”

“I said, send it back.”

Maria looked genuinely distressed. “Do you know how many projects we could fund with this? The solar initiative, the marine research, the..”

“I don’t care.” Juniper’s voice was tight, controlled, masking the chaos inside her. “We don’t take money from him.”

Maria stared at her. “I thought you two…”

“We’re nothing,” Juniper snapped, cutting her off. “Send it back.”

Maria hesitated, but finally nodded, taking the tablet with her as she walked away.

Juniper exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her forehead.

This was exactly why she had walked away.

Adrian Blackwood was a hurricane in human form. He swept in, destroyed everything, and then tried to buy his way out of the wreckage.

She wasn’t going to let him do that to her.

But as she walked into her office and shut the door behind her, the anger didn’t settle. It burned hotter. Because no matter how much she wanted to pretend otherwise, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

The way his voice had cracked when he spoke about her mother.

The way his eyes had darkened when she had slapped him.

The way he had looked at her when he told her to leave as if it was the last thing he wanted.

She let out a frustrated breath and sank into her chair.

This was ridiculous.

She was done with him.

Wasn’t she?

A sharp knock on the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts.

She didn’t even look up. “Maria, I swear to god, if this is about the money…”

The door burst open.

But it wasn’t Maria.

A man in a gray trench coat strode inside, holding a microphone, followed closely by a woman with a camera.

Juniper’s blood ran cold.

“Ms. Hale.” The man’s voice was slick, practiced. “Cameron Reid, New York Ledger. Care to comment on the lawsuit against Adrian Blackwood?”

Juniper’s breath hitched. “Excuse me?”

The camerawoman flicked on the recording light.

“Sources say Blackwood Industries is being sued for wrongful death,” Reid continued, his smile sharp as a knife. “Specifically your mother’s.”

Juniper’s world tilted.

The walls of her office, the city skyline outside the window, the air itself, everything felt like it was caving in.

“I—” Her voice came out strangled. “That’s not possible.”

Reid smirked. “Then you haven’t heard?” He leaned in, dropping his voice as if savoring the moment.

“The lawsuit alleges that Blackwood Industries had direct involvement in silencing whistleblowers. And that includes Caroline Hale.”

Juniper’s breath caught in her throat.

Her mother.

The woman who had spent her life fighting corruption, exposing environmental crimes only to die in a car crash that never quite made sense.

No.

This was a mistake. A sick joke.

Adrian

He couldn’t have

Could he?

Reid took her silence as an invitation to press further.

“Tell me, Ms. Hale.” His voice was a purr now, a predator circling prey. “Did you know the man funding your nonprofit is being accused of covering up your mother’s murder?”

The room spun.

Juniper barely registered the camera light burning in her face, the microphone inches from her lips.

Her heartbeat roared in her ears.

She had spent years searching for the truth about her mother.

Had she been sleeping with the enemy all along?

The camera zoomed in.

Her phone buzzed on her desk.

A name flashed across the screen.

Adrian Blackwood.

Her stomach twisted violently.

She looked up, meeting the reporter’s expectant gaze.

And for the first time in her life, Juniper Hale had no idea what to say.