°ADRIAN° What the hell is happening? I know I should stop her. I know this isn’t right. But for a fleeting second, I couldn’t. I froze, caught in the chaos of her desperation, her pain, her heat. The metallic taste of blood snapped me out of it. Her blood. My stomach twisted, and my fucking heart sank like a stone. She’s drugged, I reminded myself, forcing clarity through the storm in my head. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t Serena. It was the drugs—clouding her judgment, stealing her control, and leaving her vulnerable in ways I couldn’t bear to see. I will not let her do something she'll regret later. I broke the kiss, grabbing her shoulders gently but firmly, grounding myself and her in the same motion. "Serena, stop," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "This isn’t you. You’re not thinking clearly." As I pressed lightly on her left shoulder to keep her steady, an ear-piercing scream tore from her lips, freezing my blood. I pulled back instantly, my eyes darting to
°SERENA° Agony. Pure, unrelenting agony. Every inch of my body felt like it had been drained of life, each limb weighed down as though gravity had doubled. Even my eyelids resisted, heavy with exhaustion, but I forced them open. A decision I regretted immediately as the harsh light above stabbed my eyes, blinding me momentarily. Blinking rapidly, I adjusted to the brightness and let my gaze wander. The white walls and curtains confirmed I was in a hospital room. My left arm was tightly bandaged, and I didn’t need to guess—it was broken. My eyes drifted downward, catching sight of a familiar figure slumped near my bedside. My heart skipped a beat. Adrian. The heartless guy, he came for me… A small, involuntary smile tugged at my lips as fragments of last night filtered back into my mind. The memories made my cheeks burn with equal parts of embarrassment and shame. Oh God! I have given my very first kiss to him! That too under the effects of drugs, it's really embarrassing. St
°SERENA° He paused, turning slightly. “None of your concern.” “I’m the one who was kidnapped. I’m the one who suffered. I have the right to know!” Adrian’s gaze snapped to me, his eyes cold and unforgiving. “Yeah, none of which would have happened if you hadn’t been fucking stupid enough to get in a car with anyone.” The words hit me like a slap. I felt my chest tighten, the sting of his accusation cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. But I refused to let him see the hurt. “They were my classmates,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice steady. “Fucking classmates,” he scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “I’ve already given a videotape to the cops,” he continued, his voice sharp. “They’ve been arrested. I’m going to confirm their identities and ensure they’re punished. Or... do you want me to let them walk free?” His words jolted me. What kind of question was that? “Walk free? Throw them in a damn jail to rot,” I replied firmly, my voice carrying a bitternes
°ADRIAN° She turned to look at me, her eyes wide, glinting like two startled orbs. I couldn’t help but smirk at her reaction. “You mean?” she asked, the shock still etched across her face. “We’ll stay here. Tim will pick you up and drop you off,” I replied. For a second, she mulled over my words, and then I saw it—a devilish smile lighting up her face, a glint of mischief sparkling in her eyes. “You did this for me.” It wasn’t a question. “No,” I denied instantly. “Yeah…?” she dragged, her voice teasing, her expression all too knowing. “Yeah.” There she was again, grating on my nerves with that infuriating smugness, like she had me all figured out. It annoyed me to no end how she always hit home, like she could read my every move. Deep down, though, I couldn’t lie to myself. Maybe… just maybe, it was because of what she’d said about the long travel. I didn’t know why, but the next day, I found myself asking Timothy to secure this apartment. Why the hell was she influencing
°SERENA° “You just don’t get it, do you?” I asked, a bitter smile tugging at my lips, devoid of any warmth. No one ever does—and maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be. But knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less. The ache sat deep within me, sharp and unrelenting, a raw wound I couldn’t reach to heal. Adrian—of all people—had made this decision for me without hesitation, without so much as considering how it would unravel what little I had left to hold onto. Why is it that someone else always gets to decide what’s best for me? Why is it that my life, my choices, are never truly mine? It’s always the men in my life. First, my father in name, and now my husband in name. "Ah, what a similarity," I murmured bitterly, the words barely a whisper, but heavy with truth. The two most important men in anyone’s life—and yet, to them both, I’m nothing more than a tool. The tears I had so desperately tried to suppress betrayed me, slipping silently down my cheeks. My chest ti
°SERENA° "I have a surprise for you." "For me?" I asked, genuinely surprised. Adrian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he wheeled himself closer, stopping just a foot away from where I stood. His intense gaze dropped to his legs, and instinctively, mine followed. My heart skipped a beat. My eyes widened in shock, my breath catching as I saw what he wanted to show me. "You... how?" I whispered, barely able to process the sight before me. Adrian, the man who had been confined to that wheelchair for so long, was now moving his legs. Small, tentative movements, but undeniable proof that he was doing it. His smile was smug, almost triumphant, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "Yes," he said, his voice filled with a determination I hadn’t heard in weeks. "I can move my legs on my own now. And I know it’s only a matter of time before I stand and walk." For once, I didn’t mind his cockiness. It wasn’t misplaced. No, it felt earned. Deserved. "I’m so happy for you, Adrian," I s
°ADRIAN° “Ah, that’s it,” the doctor said, peeling away the last layer of white bandage from Serena’s arm. I watched silently from across the room, my arms crossed, face stoic. She sat still, her eyes filled with awe, fixed on the doctor’s hands as if the process required her full attention. When the last piece of gauze was removed, I caught a glimpse of the faint scar running along her skin. Proof of how well she could handle herself. Not that she’d admit it. For the past week, she’d been… quiet. Too quiet. No snark, no backtalk, no challenging every damn word I said. Just heading out in the mornings with Timothy, coming back in the late afternoons with him. She was behaving. Being good. And I should have felt relieved at that, but…I hated it. “It’s healing well,” the doctor said, snapping me out of my thoughts. He sounded so damn cheerful. “No more bandages needed. I’ll prescribe something for the occasional pain, but other than that, you’re good to go.” “Thank you,
°ADRIAN° "Are you perving at me?" I froze, caught entirely off guard by her question. Her tone was dry, laced with sarcasm, but she still hadn’t turned to face me. The stirring resumed, slow and steady, as though she hadn’t just accused me of… whatever that was. "Excuse me?" I finally managed, my voice sharper than intended. "You're staring," she said matter-of-factly. "What else should I call it?" I scoffed, rolling the chair a little closer, the movement deliberate. "I wasn’t staring. I came for water." Her head tilted slightly, pointing toward the fridge. "I think the water is on the other side." I narrowed my eyes at her back, irritation bubbling under my skin. Her indifference had always grated on me, but this… this nonchalant deflection was worse. I wheeled closer to the fridge, opened it, and took out a bottle. I let the water flow down my throat, the coldness feeling odd against the hot, burning sensation in the kitchen. "Why are you making that?" I asked
°SERENA° I woke up with a sharp jolt, my head dizzy and heavy, as if it had been struck by a hammer. My eyes fluttered open, but the world spun in a blur. Where am I? Last I remembered, I was with Tim. We were supposed to go to Nina’s house. I could still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, the laughter in the air as we joked about old memories... But now? Now, I was here. I blinked, trying to adjust to the dim light filtering through cracked windows. The room smelled musty, like damp wood and stale air. My fingers tingled from the tightness of the ropes around my wrists, and my legs were bound just as tightly to the legs of the chair. The cold wood beneath me seemed to seep through my clothes, making my skin crawl. How did I end up here? Why am I here? Panic started to claw at my chest as I tugged at the ropes, the rough fibers scraping against my skin. My heart hammered in my chest, every beat a reminder that I was trapped. I tried to recall how I got to this hellish
°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—
°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
°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
°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
°SERENA° I waited. Every tick of the clock was a hammer against my chest. Today was his day—Adrian’s moment to finally expose the rotting truth buried in his family’s legacy. To drag it all out into the light and put an end to the years of silence and pain. He'd seemed calm this morning, eerily composed. But I knew better. I’d learned the language of his silence—the slight clench of his jaw, the way his eyes refused to settle, the rigid calm he wore like armor. Adrian’s relationship with pain was like his shadow—always there, never fully seen. And something about that stillness unsettled me. He wasn’t okay. Time trickled by. I kept glancing at the door, expecting to hear footsteps, a knock, something. But the hours crawled forward and still, no sign of him. He should have let me come with him. I told him I should have gone. What if the truth got twisted again? What if those people—his blood, his enemies—found a new way to spin the lies? What if his fury, raw and just, was
°ADRIAN° “You will speak, Evelyn, or I will make sure your silence costs you everything.” My grandfather’s voice thundered again, shaking the walls with its wrath. Evelyn’s lips trembled, but she said nothing. Not another word. The air grew heavy—thick with unspoken truths. I could hear my own breath, shallow and uneven, battling the quiet that now felt louder than any scream. And suddenly, justice didn’t feel like justice anymore. It felt like heartbreak—dressed in the finest robe of truth—standing before me, unforgiving. I wasn’t just here to avenge my mother anymore. Now I had to ask myself a question I never thought I would— Had I ever truly known the woman I loved? “Charles Cooper,” Evelyn finally whispered. My head snapped toward her, eyes narrowed, heart pounding so loud it echoed in my ears. “Remember why your mother was hospitalized?” she said, her voice like a blade sliding through silk. “Because he poisoned her.” The room went still. My breath caugh
°ADRIAN° Once again standing before this house, I felt nothing but a cold dismay wash over me. The mansion loomed, carved in the same grandeur that once terrified me as a boy. Its ivy-draped walls stood like old gods watching over the sins they once bore witness to, silent and unmoved. Its towering gates creaked open with a reluctant groan, and the familiar crunch of gravel beneath my shoes sent a chill up my spine. The air was stiff with aged roses, the kind my mother used to place on the dining table, back when silence hadn’t yet swallowed every space whole. “Shall we go inside, sir?” Timothy’s voice, calm and quiet, broke the spell. He stood respectfully beside me, dressed impeccably, though I knew his eyes were on me more than the door. I nodded once. Or forced myself to. Still, my feet stayed frozen to the ground. The wind shifted. Not strong—but enough to rustle the leaves, to carry the whispers of the past straight into my bones. I was no longer the trembling boy be
°ADRIAN° The room fell into stunned silence. Every pair of eyes, wide with disbelief, turned toward Serena—including mine. The only one who seemed unfazed was Fred, the bastard, smirking like he had been waiting for this moment. Because Serena—who had spent the entire evening looking like half dead, drained and fragile—had just snapped. And fuck, if that wasn’t the most satisfying thing I had seen all night. A strange sensation curled in my chest. Amusement, pride—something else. She had just called out Elder Royce, and I doubted she even realized who she had just talked back to. "You," Elder Royce said, his voice dropping an octave, his sharp eyes narrowing at her. "What did you say?" Serena straightened her posture, her grip tightening around the chair. "Yes, it's your fault," she repeated, her voice steadier this time. "Adrian just came back—it hasn’t even been a month—so if there’s blame to be placed, it’s yours." A slow smile curled my lips. This little gold digger.