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From His View.
Last Updated:
2025-02-17 19:08:51°SERENA°
Is it possible for a person to have two personalities? Sure, it is. But how can someone slip in and out of them so effortlessly—like him? One moment, he’s a man of warmth, speaking softly, his presence almost comforting. The next moment, he’s cold and indifferent, as if I was never there. Maybe he’s used to it. But I’m not. How does he expect people around him to tolerate it? Then again, there’s no one around him except Tim, who can be just as cold and intimidating. And now, I barely even see Adrian in the apartment. He’s been leaving early, returning late—a ghost moving in and out of these walls. Where he goes, what he does—I don’t know, and I won’t ask. But his legs… that’s what worries me. Still, he shows up for dinner, and still, I refuse to join him. Yeah, employees don’t eat with th
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Last Updated : 2025-02-19The Cure Is you Reunion Of Friends.
°ADRIAN° "Bethany?" The name feels foreign on my tongue, yet the familiarity is undeniable. "Yeah, I am," she replies, her voice holding a mix of surprise and hesitation. Five years. Five years since she disappeared from my life. Since she chose a man I always knew was wrong for her. Since she wasn’t there when I needed her most. "How have you been?" she asks, her words laced with guilt. "I’m sorry I couldn’t be there." We both know what she means. The accident. I scoff, crossing my arms, my words sharp. "Yeah, you would have been—if you hadn’t run off with that… mistake." Bethany exhales slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I know. I made a mistake. I divorced him now." Divorced? When did that happen? Her gaze briefly falls before meeting mine again. "I tried calling after I heard about the accident, but you changed your number. And when I came back, you were gone." "You lost the right to find me when you left," I say flatly, the words harsher than I intend. Her
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°SERENA° My vision blurs, my breath faltering—until I see him. Adrian. And he looks enraged. Victor lets go of me quickly, as if just touching me burns him now. I stumble back, coughing, pressing trembling fingers against my sore throat as I gasp for air. My body is weak, shaking—but I force myself to stand straight. The sting of Victor’s grip is nothing compared to the weight of Adrian’s stare. It’s the kind of look that freezes time, that makes the air too thick to breathe. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t need to. Victor straightens, adjusting his cuffs like he wasn’t just choking me, but there’s a flicker—just a flicker—of unease in his smirk. "Well, well," he drawls. "Look who decided to join." My gaze flickers to Adrian. He’s seated, but that doesn’t diminish him. His presence commands attention, his eyes burning with something terrifying, something lethal. Even without standing, he looks like he could burn this entire place down with a single glare. His fingers tigh
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°ADRIAN° "Then let me prove you wrong," she says, her voice barely above a whisper—yet firm, unyielding. Her hands, soft and warm, cradle my face like I’m something fragile—something that needs care. I should pull away. I should remind her of who I am, of the boundaries she keeps pushing. But I don’t. Because I know she will prove me wrong. She always does. That’s what Serena is best at—challenging me, forcing me to see things I don’t want to. At every turn, every chance she gets, she shatters the certainty I hold. I search her eyes, expecting to find mockery, maybe a hint of amusement at my hesitation. But there’s none. Only sincerity. Raw. Unshaken. It unsettles me. A thousand thoughts crash through my mind—hundreds of different ways I could respond. Yet the only thing that leaves my lips is a single word, still full of meaning—her name. "Serena." She doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch. She simply looks at me as if she already knows everything I can’t bring myse
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°SERENA° “SERENA!” Cassandra’s scream rang through the cold stone halls, but before I could answer, rough fingers latched onto my arm—tight, urgent. I knew from the grip, from the sheer force, that it was a man. Instinct took over. I clenched the small knife she’d slipped into my hand earlier, spun, and slashed hard. My blade met flesh, and a choked gasp followed. Warm blood sprayed across my skin. A vein. I’d aimed for it. This would weaken Victor. It had to. We needed just enough time— “Ah… Serena!” That voice. My heart skipped and I turned sharply, breath caught in my throat. “Fred?” I gasped. His eyes were wide with pain, his hand clutched tight, blood flowing between his fingers like a river he couldn’t stop. My stomach dropped. Shit. What have I done? “Shit! Why did you grab me?” I was at his side before I finished speaking, panic clawing at my throat. He winced, and I didn’t wait—I tore a strip from my shirt, the fabric protesting with each tug. My f
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°ADRIAN° "Yes. And it begins with—" My phone rang. A shrill, stabbing sound that cut through the room like a blade. I stopped mid-sentence, breath caught mid-chest. Fuck. Annoyed, I pulled it from my pocket—half-ready to snap at whoever dared to— Then the world dropped out from under me. Victor’s face filled the screen. Smiling. No—grinning, smug and twisted, like he’d won a game I didn’t even know we were still playing. His eyes sparkled with something feral, something unholy. Then the camera tilted. My heart turned to stone. Serena. Tied to a chair. Hair clinging to her face, her lips cracked, trembling. A bruise darkened one cheek—deep, fresh. Like someone had slammed their palm across her face. "Adrian..." she whispered. And I couldn’t breathe. Air wouldn’t come. My lungs were locked in ice. He hit her? HE FUCKING HIT HER? My hands clenched around the phone, trembling with barely controlled violence. I could feel the heat rise up my neck, my chest—
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°EVELYN° Adrian Royce. The Royce heir stood before me—just as he had five years ago—unflinching, unreadable, and devastatingly composed. But he wasn’t the same boy I once pitied. No. That shattered boy with a broken spine was long gone. In his place stood a man carved from silence and sharpened by betrayal. And in his eyes, I saw every secret I thought I had buried claw its way back to the surface. Was this the reckoning I had feared? The collapse of everything I had built with blood, deception, and a twisted kind of love? He didn’t speak. Just walked in with the quiet arrogance of someone who owned the air I breathed—like he knew exactly what it cost me to stand tall. Behind him, that bastard friend of his carried the file—that file—the one that should’ve remained ash and dust. Five years of silence, and still, Adrian found a way to exhume the corpses I buried with trembling hands. I shouldn’t have arranged his marriage. Not to Serena. It was Anna who was meant for
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°ADRIAN° The door closed with a soft thud. Almost fragile. But it echoed like a gunshot in my skull. She left. And once again, what should’ve felt like a home felt like a mausoleum. Just blocks of bricks and the ghosts of her laughter echoing through the silence. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. I hadn’t moved from where I stood—hadn’t dared. My chest felt hollow, like something had been ripped out of me. A vacuum. A space where love used to live. I let her go. No—worse. I asked her to leave. I told her it was for the best. That I was a mess. But the truth is… I didn’t know what else to do. And now the air reeked of her absence. Her scent still clung to the couch where she curled up with her books. Her favorite sweater still hung off the chair, half-folded. And the food she cooked... it sat on the table. Untouched. Growing cold. She hadn’t eaten. And I pushed her out anyway. Where would she go? To her father? The man who poisoned her. The sa
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°SERENA° "Adrian, please… just look at me." But he doesn’t. His eyes stay locked on the floor like it’s safer there—like if he dares to meet mine, he’ll fall apart. His posture rigid, fists clenched, his chest rising and falling with staggered breaths. He looks calm from a distance, but I know him better than that. I can feel the war inside him. "I'm not my father," I whisper, barely audible. "You know that, don't you?" A hollow, bitter laugh slips from his lips. It cuts deeper than silence. Like it was pulled from a place inside him that’s long been bleeding. "I don't know anything anymore, Serena." "You know me." My voice trembles. "You listened to me when no one else did. You saw parts of me I never showed anyone. Did you forget all that?" His head lifts slowly, like it takes everything in him to meet my gaze. His eyes are bloodshot, swollen with grief, and when they finally meet mine—something inside me breaks. It feels like glass shattering in my chest. "I don’t wa
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