SHADOWS OF THE PAST

Lila's POV

I stared at the plate in front of me, my stomach twisting into knots.

Steak. Mashed potatoes. Steamed vegetables. Simple, yet perfect.

It smelled incredible—exactly how I remembered.

Adrian knew how to cook.

For a moment, I was thrown back in time, to nights when he would return from his ridiculous late-night meetings, roll up his sleeves, and make us dinner because he didn’t trust anyone else to get the seasoning right. To the way he’d smirk when I stole bites from his plate, acting like he was annoyed but never once stopping me.

Back when I thought we were happy.

But it was all a lie.

I tightened my grip around the fork, forcing myself to stay in the present. Those memories meant nothing now. They were just pieces of something that had shattered beyond repair.

Adrian sat across from me, watching me too closely.

He had barely touched his own food.

“You’re not eating?” I asked, my voice colder than I intended.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “I will. After you do.”

I rolled my eyes but stabbed a piece of steak with my fork and took a bite. The flavors exploded in my mouth, perfectly seasoned, cooked just right.

Damn him.

Adrian had ruined my life, broken my heart, and yet, here I was, sitting at his expensive dining table, eating the meal he made like some pathetic fool.

My throat burned with unshed emotions.

I forced down another bite.

Silence stretched between us. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

He finally broke it. “You shouldn’t have been in Redgrave, Lila.”

I set my fork down carefully. “And you shouldn’t have cheated on me, Adrian. But here we are.”

His jaw ticked, and for a split second, I saw something flash in his eyes. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold, unreadable mask he always wore.

“I didn’t come to pick a fight,” he said, voice steady.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”

His fingers drummed against the table, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re staying here. Whether you like it or not.”

I exhaled sharply, pushing my plate away. “I don’t need your help.”

His eyes darkened. “You’re carrying my child. That makes it my business.”

I hated the way my chest tightened at his words. Hated how a part of me, one I had spent months trying to kill, still longed for the version of him I once knew.

But that version didn’t exist anymore.

Maybe he never had.

I rose to my feet, ignoring the way my legs swayed slightly. “Thank you for the food,” I said stiffly.

I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me.

“Get some rest, Lila.”

I froze for a second before forcing myself to keep walking.

Chapter Five

Lila’s POV

I closed the door behind me, pressing my forehead against it as I took a slow, shaky breath.

Why did it feel like every second with Adrian made me want to go back to him?

I turned around and looked at the massive bedroom. It was well placed and modern, like the rest of his penthouse.

Sighing, I sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for my phone. A single missed call flashed on the screen.

Sophie.

My heart clenched. I hadn’t even told her where I was.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed again.

I answered immediately. “Sophie—”

“Where the hell are you?!” her voice burst through the speaker, laced with panic. “I went to your apartment, Lila. The door was broken! I thought…” She sucked in a breath. “I thought something happened to you.”

Guilt twisted in my chest. I had scared her. “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” she echoed. “Lila, your place was trashed! Where are you?”

I hesitated, gripping the phone tighter. “I… I’m with Adrian.”

Silence.

Then—

“You’re what?” Selene's voice dropped to a stunned whisper.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling drained. “It’s a long story, Soph. I’ll explain later.”

Another pause.

“Are you safe?” she finally asked, quieter this time.

I looked around the unfamiliar bedroom, my chest tightening. Safe? I wasn’t sure anymore.

“Yes,” I murmured. “I am.”

She exhaled. “Lila, we were supposed to leave the city tonight. I had everything arranged.”

I closed my eyes. I knew that. I had been ready. Packed. Prepared to disappear.

But now?

Now, I was in Adrian’s penthouse, sitting on his bed, completely tangled in a situation I never forsaw.

“I can’t leave,” I whispered.

“Why?” she pressed.

I hesitated. “I just… I can’t.”

She's was silent for a moment before she sighed. “Okay. But you owe me an explanation. Soon.”

“I know.”

“Take care of yourself, Lila. And if anything feels off, call me.”

“I will.”

I hung up, setting my phone down beside me.

The exhaustion crashed over me all at once.

I was supposed to leave. To get away from this city, from my past, from Adrian.

But now, everything had changed.

I crawled under the sheets, curling into myself.

I told myself I would figure it out in the morning.

The last time I saw Nathan Carter, he was standing beside Adrian at our wedding, grinning like he had won the lottery.

Now, he was standing in the doorway of my borrowed bedroom, holding a paper bag in one hand and a bouquet of white roses in the other, looking at me with that same old warm smile.

“Lila,” he greeted, his British accent showing through.

I stared at him and forced on a smile. “Nathan.”

His eyes flickered over me, taking in the oversized shirt I had thrown on, the exhaustion I knew was written all over my face. Then, he sighed and stepped inside, placing the flowers and the bag on the nightstand.

“Adrian sent you,” I said, already knowing the answer.

He nodded. “He was worried.”

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Right. Worried.”

Nathan didn’t react to my sarcasm. He just pulled the chair from the corner of the room and sat down, arms resting on his knees as he watched me.

“I don’t need a bodyguard, Nathan.”

“I know.” He tilted his head. “But humor me.”

I crossed my arms. “What’s in the bag?”

“Snacks. Tea. A few things Adrian thought you might need.”

I frowned. “And the flowers?”

Nathan smirked. “Those were my idea.”

I stared at the white roses, my throat tightening.

Adrian had always known I loved roses, but he never bought white ones. He always got red, claiming they suited me better.

Nathan must have noticed the change in my expression because he leaned back, studying me. “How are you holding up?”

I exhaled slowly. “I’ve been better.”

“I should’ve checked in on you sooner,” he muttered.

I blinked. “What?”

He met my gaze, his expression unreadable. “After the divorce. I should’ve called. I wanted to, but—” He shook his head. “I didn’t know if you’d want to hear from me.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

Nathan had been Adrian’s best man, his closest friend, his right hand. But he had also been kind to me, one of the few people in Adrian’s world who didn’t treat me like an outsider.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said finally, acting like it wasn't deep.

Nathan’s eyes softened. “It does.”

I looked away, staring at the flowers instead.

“Are you really staying here?” he asked after a beat.

I swallowed. “For now.”

He nodded, as if he had already expected that answer.

“Then let me know if you need anything,” he said, standing up. “I’ll be around.”

He left the room, closing the door behind him.

I sighed, pulling the paper bag closer. Tea, biscuits, a few chocolates… I picked at one of the biscuits absentmindedly, nibbling on it as my mind swirled with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

I shook my head, brushing the crumbs off my fingers, only to realize there were no napkins.

I frowned, glancing around the room. Nothing.

With a sigh, I pushed off the bed and walked barefoot to the door. Maybe I could grab some from the kitchen.

As I moved forward, I heard a low voice and remembered I wasn't alone in the house.

Nathan was just around the corner, his voice hushed but urgent.

“I told you not to hurt her,” he said, his tone edged with something dark. “Or touch her. But you fucking did.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Who was he talking to?

There was a pause. I heard him exhale harshly. “No, I don’t care what your orders were. You were supposed to scare her, not trash the damn place and break the door down like a damn lunatic.”

My fingers curled against the wall.

He was talking about the break-in.

A cold chill ran down my spine.

“Fix it,” Nathan snapped. “Or I swear to God, I’ll—” He stopped himself, inhaling sharply before lowering his voice again. “Just fix it. And don’t make me repeat myself.”

Silence. Then a quiet, clipped, “Good.”

The call ended.

I peeked around the corner just as he ran a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath.

My stomach twisted.

Nathan knew.

He knew who broke into my apartment.

And worse, he was involved.