Celeste’s POV

It was my twenty-first birthday, and I felt completely empty. The silk sheets were freezing against my skin. The giant bedroom was too quiet, making my chest ache. I looked out the big glass walls at the London skyline. People thought money bought happiness, but it did not. It just made me feel like an object in a museum.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it fast, hoping for something real. My heart sank as I looked at the screen. There were over forty messages.

"Happy birthday, Celeste! Can't wait to work with your brand again," one said.

"Happy birthday to the Lindstrom heiress," read another from some business boss I met only once.

It was all fake. Every single bit of it. They just wanted a piece of my family's money. I threw the phone down and sighed. Then, a special ringtone went off. It was a private sound. My thumb shook as I picked it up and unlocked the screen.

12 o’clock. Wolfgang’s Steakhouse. Happy birthday, little star. — A.

A sharp gasp left my mouth. Heat rushed straight through my body. Adrian. My heart did a wild flip, and the heavy weight in my chest disappeared. He remembered. Of course he did. He was the only person in the whole world who really knew me. Not my money. Not my name. Just Celeste.

"I can make it to twelve," I whispered to the empty room. I pressed the phone against my chest, my heart beating fast. "I just have to survive the morning."

I got out of bed and dressed quickly in a plain black sweater and jeans. I walked down the grand stairs to the dining room. The table was long enough to seat thirty people, but only my dad sat there. He had a tablet in one hand and a fork in the other. He did not look up when I walked in.

"Sit, Celeste. Eat fast. I have a call with Tokyo in fifteen minutes," he said, his voice cold and short.

"Good morning to you too, Father," I said. I pulled out a chair three seats away from him. "And thank you."

He looked up, blinking like he just remembered what day it was. "Ah. Yes. Happy birthday. Twenty-one. A big year." He pushed a small velvet box across the dark wood table. "From your mother and me."

I opened it. A bright diamond bracelet sparkled back at me. It was very expensive, but it felt dead. "It is beautiful. Where is Mom? Is she coming back from Paris today?"

"Her flight was delayed by the weather," he said, lying easily. His eyes were already looking back at his screen. "She will call you later."

"She did not call last year either," I muttered. I pushed my food around my plate. "Does she even know how old I am? Actually, Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Make it quick, Celeste."

"Can you please turn off the screen? Just for five minutes? It's my birthday. Can't you spend any time with me today?"

He sighed, finally locking his screen and setting the tablet face down. "Celeste, I have a multi-billion-dollar empire to run. What do you actually plan to do today anyway, since it's your birthday?"

"I'm going out with Adrian," I said, a small smile finally breaking across my face. "He planned something special for me today. I don't even know what it is yet."

My dad's expression softened, and a real smile touched his lips. "Your older brother really sweet. He always takes care of you."

"Yeah," I whispered, my chest tightening with a strange emotion. "He does."

"You two go enjoy your day," Dad said, standing up and smoothing his suit jacket. "I promise Celeste, we will eat dinner together tonight to celebrate your birthday. Just the two of us. No screens. Okay?"

"You promise?"

"I promise. Now I have to take this call." He walked away, already typing on his phone.

An hour later, a heavy knock sounded on the front door. I ran down the stairs, my heart pounding in my ears. I threw the door open, and there he was. Adrian stood on the porch, wearing a black leather jacket and dark jeans. His messy dark hair fell perfectly across his forehead.

"Hey, little star," he said, his deep voice sending a familiar shiver down my spine.

"Adrian!" I threw my arms around his neck.

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound, and wrapped his strong arms around my waist, lifting me completely off the ground. He swung me around once before setting me down. He reached out and ruffled my hair, a classic, playful brotherly gesture.

"Come on, birthday girl. We have a reservation," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward his black Audi.

We arrived at Wolfgang’s Steakhouse right at noon. The restaurant was beautiful, dark wood and white tablecloths. Adrian sat across from me, watching me with an intense look in his dark eyes.

"So, twenty-one," he said, leaning forward on his elbows. "How does it feel to be ancient?"

"Shut up," I laughed, throwing a crumpled napkin at him. "I don't feel any different. Just tired."

"Well, today you don't get to be tired," he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "Today is all about you."

When the food arrived, I immediately started eating, starving from missing breakfast. Adrian chuckled, reaching across the table with his cloth napkin. He gently wiped a bit of steak sauce from the corner of my lip.

"Slow down, kiddo," he teased, his thumb brushing against my chin for a second too long before he pulled away. "The food isn't going anywhere."

"I'm just hungry," I mumbled, my cheeks turning slightly pink.

After lunch, we spent the whole afternoon walking around the city. Adrian kept his arm looped through mine, guiding me through the crowded streets. Whenever a bicycle or a fast walker got too close, his grip would tighten, pulling me firmly against his side to protect me. To anyone watching, he looked exactly like a deeply protective older brother. He bought me a ridiculous, oversized cotton candy, laughed when it got stuck to my nose, and chased me down a small alley when I tried to wipe it on his expensive jacket. For the first time all year, the heavy weight in my chest was completely gone.

At exactly six o'clock, Adrian pulled the car up to a massive amusement park on the edge of the city. I looked out the window, confused. The parking lot was completely empty. The giant rollercoasters were lit up, but there were no crowds, no lines, and no noise.

"Adrian? Why is it so empty?" I asked, turning to look at him.

He smirked, leaning over to unbuckle my seatbelt. "Because I rented the whole park for you. No crowds. No whispers. Just us."

My jaw dropped. "You did what? Adrian, that must have cost a fortune!"

"I don't care about the money, Celeste," he said, his voice suddenly very serious. "I told you. You deserve a perfect day."

We spent the next few hours running around like little kids. We ate greasy corndogs, leaving mustard stains on our fingers. We played random arcade games, and Adrian spent fifty dollars just to win me a giant, stupid-looking stuffed bear.

"Here," he gasped, shoving the massive bear into my arms after a intense game of basketball shooting. "Hold this so you don't get lost, shorty."

"I am not short!" I yelled, laughing as I kicked his shin playfully.

He groaned, clutching his leg, but the massive grin on his face showed he wasn't actually hurt. We ran toward the center of the park, the bright neon lights reflecting in his hazel eyes. It was perfect. It was the best day of my life.

But then, the clock moved close to midnight.

We were walking past the closed game booths when my phone violently vibrated in my palm. I pulled it out, thinking it was my dad cancelling our dinner. My breath hitched. It was an unknown number. I opened the text message, and all the air completely left my lungs.

It was a photo. A picture of me from this exact morning, walking down the steps of my dad's house. It was taken from far away, behind some bushes. I could see the sad look on my own face. Under the photo, there was only one word written in deep red text.

Soon.

"Celeste?" Adrian's voice cut through the cold air. He noticed my sudden silence, his eyes instantly dropping to my shaking hands. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I-I..." I choked out, my chest moving up and down fast. Panic filled my throat like sharp glass. "Look."

I handed him the phone. I expected him to freak out, to yell, to pull me away. But he didn't. Adrian took the phone, his jaw tightening for a brief second as he looked at the screen. Then, his face became completely calm. He looked up at me with a reassuring smile, his eyes warm and completely steady.

"Hey, look at me," Adrian said softly, shoving the phone into his pocket. He wrapped his big, warm hands around my freezing shoulders. "It's just a stupid prank. Some idiot from your university is trying to mess with you because of your family's name. Don't let them ruin your night."

"But Adrian, they were watching me," I whispered, a tear escaping my eye. "They were right outside the house."

"I am right here, Celeste. Nothing is going to happen to you," he murmured, his voice incredibly soothing. He wiped the tear away with his thumb. "Come on. Look up. The ferris wheel is waiting for us. Let's go see the view."

He guided me gently toward the giant, glowing wheel. The ride operator, who Adrian had hired, opened the door to one of the private glass cars. We stepped inside, and the machine started to move, lifting us slowly into the dark night sky.

The city lights began to stretch out beneath us, a massive blanket of gold and silver. But I couldn't look at the view. I was still shivering, my hands clenched into tight fists on my lap.

Adrian moved across the small car, sitting right next to me. He didn't hesitate. He pulled off his heavy leather jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. It smelled like him—expensive cologne, leather, and fresh rain. The heat from the jacket instantly started to melt the ice in my veins.

"Adrian, I'm scared," I whispered, my voice trembling as I looked down at my shoes. "What if they want to hurt me? What does 'Soon' mean?"

Adrian reached out. His big, warm hand cupped my cheek, forcing me to look up. The playful, brotherly look he had worn all day was completely gone. His hazel eyes were burning with a dark, raw intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.

"Listen to me very carefully, Celeste," he said, his voice dropping into a low, deadly whisper that vibrated right through my skin. "I will never let anyone hurt you. I will protect you no matter what happens. No one will ever touch you as long as I am alive."

"Adrian..." I breathed, my heart doing a completely different kind of wild flip.

"I mean it," he murmured, his thumb softly tracing my bottom lip. His face was leaning down, closer and closer, until his warm breath was touching my mouth. "You are everything to me. You are my little star."

The space between us completely disappeared. The heavy, unspoken secret we had spent years trying to guard suddenly melted away, dissolved by a pure, suffocating heat. My hands reached out, gripping the front of his shirt as we drew closer, driven by a desperate, forbidden hunger.

And then, his lips crashed into mine.

It wasn't a brotherly kiss. It was deep, heavy, and full of absolute possession, his tongue sliding against mine as the ferris wheel reached the very top of the world.

Celeste’s POV

Adrian’s hand closed around my wrist the exact second our lips broke apart. The kiss had left me completely breathless, my head spinning in the enclosed glass car of the ferris wheel. The sweet, brotherly illusion we had maintained for years was shattered into a million pieces on the floor between us.

His grip wasn't rough, but it was urgent, a tight touch that made my skin burn.

"We're leaving," he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Now."

"Adrian, wait—"

"No." He cut me off instantly, his eyes scanning the darkened park below us as the ferris wheel slowly brought our car back down to earth. "Someone was close enough to take that photo this morning, Celeste. You think I'm letting you stand out here in the open like a fucking target?"

My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it pulsing in my throat. The image of that text message was still burned into my brain. I wanted to argue, to tell him I wasn't a fragile doll, but my voice came out small and fractured. "Who would do this? Who even knows my schedule?"

"I don't know yet." The ferris wheel car clicked open, and he pulled me hard out into the freezing night air. His muscular body was angled perfectly between me and the open space, acting like a human shield. "But I'm going to find out. I swear to God, Celeste, I'm going to find out."

"Adrian, look at the background of that picture again," I said, my hands shaking so badly I could barely keep up with his long strides. "They are so close. I'm scared."

"Don't think about it anymore." He shoved his hands into his pockets, his jaw locked tight. "Look at me. Focus on my voice. We need to get to the car."

We took the exit stairs fast, our frantic footsteps echoing loudly against the metal structure. I stumbled once, my shoe catching on a loose bolt, and a small gasp escaped my lips. Adrian caught me before I could even fall, his strong arm sliding around my waist and pulling me flush against his hard chest.

"I've got you," he murmured against my hair, his chest rising and falling heavily. "Just keep moving, little star. I've got you."

The words hit me somewhere deep, right in the center of my chest where all my old secrets lived. He'd been saying that to me for eleven years. I've got you. Ever since the day he arrived at the Lindstrom estate, a broken ten-year-old boy with no parents, no smile, and no voice. I still remembered the exact day I found him sitting alone in the overgrown corner of our garden.

The memory surfaced without warning, sharp and painful.

I was only six years old back then, too young to understand what death meant, but old enough to know that the boy sitting in the dirt looked like he had forgotten how to breathe. He sat on the cold stone bench near the rose bushes, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his hands limp in his lap. He hadn't spoken a single word since his parents' funeral. The adults at the estate whispered around him constantly, treating him like he was made of thin glass.

But I didn't whisper. I didn't treat him like he was broken. I just walked right up to him in my muddy yellow dress and sat down on the dirt beside his sneakers.

He hadn't looked at me. He didn't even acknowledge I existed. So, I did the only thing my six-year-old brain could think of. I reached over, wrapped my small fingers around his, and took his hand.

His fingers had been so cold. Stiff, like ice. But after a long, agonizing moment of silence, his fingers had twitched. Then, they slowly curled around mine, squeezing back so hard it almost hurt.

We sat like that for a whole hour. No words. No explanations. Just two lonely kids holding hands in a garden that smelled like damp earth and grief. And when the sun started to set and my nanny finally came to drag me inside, his lips parted, and he finally spoke his first words in weeks.

"Don't go."

And I hadn't gone. I stayed right by his side, every single day after that.

"Celeste, stay with me," Adrian's voice snapped me back to the present. He pushed open the heavy security gate of the park and pulled me toward the dark street where his black Audi was parked illegally under a broken streetlamp.

"Get in," he muttered, opening the passenger door for me. "Lock it as soon as I close it."

I climbed inside the leather interior, and he slammed the door shut with a solid, heavy thud. The car was freezing, and I shivered violently as he sprinted around the hood, slid into the driver's seat, and turned the key. The engine roared to life, loud and aggressive in the quiet night.

The drive to my penthouse apartment was dead silent. Adrian kept his left hand firmly on the steering wheel, navigating the sharp turns of the city streets, while his right hand rested heavily on my bare knee. His thumb traced slow, heavy circles against my skin, sending a completely different kind of shiver running down my spine.

"Do you remember the day we met?" I asked softly, desperate to break the suffocating silence.

His grip on my knee instantly tightened, his knuckles going slightly white. "I remember every single detail, Celeste. I know exactly what you wore."

"Really?" I looked over at him, watching the passing streetlights paint long shadows across his sharp jawline. "What did I wear?"

"A yellow dress," he said, his voice dropping into a low, rough tone. "It was bright as hell. You looked like a little sun walking straight into the worst storm of my life. I hated you for a second because you were so bright, and everything inside me was so dark."

"You wouldn't talk to anyone," I murmured, leaning my head back against the seat. "But you talked to me."

"Because you didn't give me a choice, you stubborn brat." A ghost of a real smile finally tugged at the corner of his lips. "You just sat right down in the dirt, holding my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world."

"Maybe it was," I whispered.

Adrian suddenly pulled the car to a fast stop right outside my luxury high-rise building and killed the engine. The sudden silence was deafening. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned his entire body to face me. The sheer intensity in his eyes made my stomach do a violent flip.

"Celeste," he said, his voice cracking slightly as he reached out to cup my cheek. "Whatever happens next... I need you to understand something. You are the only good thing in my entire life. The only thing that ever made sense after my parents died in that fire."

I leaned into his warm palm, my fingers reaching up to brush the small, rugged scar that cut right through his left eyebrow. "You're the only person who ever made me feel like a real human being, Adrian. Not an heiress. Just me."

He closed his eyes, breathing in sharply. "I love you. You know that, right? I've loved you since I was a broken ten-year-old boy sitting in your garden."

"I know," I whispered, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. "I love you too, Adrian."

I leaned across the center console, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pulled him down into another kiss. This one was desperate, heavy, and wild. Adrian let out a low groan, his hands gripping my waist tightly, pulling me completely over the console and onto his lap. The kiss turned deep, his tongue sliding against mine as if he were trying to print his soul onto mine.

When he finally pulled away, his breathing was ragged, his lips wet and swollen. He rested his forehead against mine. "I have to get you inside. Before I lose my mind."

He opened his door and walked me quickly to the building's secure entrance, his hand resting firmly on the small of my back. When we reached the glass doors, he pulled me into a hug so tight it almost crushed my ribs.

"Happy birthday, little star," he whispered fiercely against my hair. "Go inside. Lock the doors. I'll call you the second I get to my place."

"Okay," I said, reluctantly pulling away. "Be safe, Adrian."

He didn't answer. He just watched me walk through the glass doors, disappearing back into the shadows of the night.

...

Adrian’s POV

I waited until the light in Celeste's top-floor bedroom window finally flicked on before I allowed myself to draw a full breath. I stood perfectly still on the deserted sidewalk, my hands shoved deep into my pockets, staring up at that distant window like it was the very last star in a dying universe.

She was so beautiful. So innocent. She had absolutely no idea about the darkness that constantly scratched at the edges of her perfect world. And she definitely didn't know how desperately I needed her just to stay fucking sane.

I meant every single word I said to her in the car. Celeste was my entire world. She was the only person who had ever looked at me and seen a boy worth saving, rather than a broken orphan to be pitied or an object to be used. She had held my freezing hand in that garden when I was literally drowning in my own grief, and she had never let go.

I didn't have a hidden agenda. I wasn't trying to become the heir just because the Lindstroms adopted me, and I didn't have some confidential file on their business tucked under my mattress. I wasn't playing a game with her. I was just a guy—completely and utterly in love, and terrified that the only good thing in my life was about to be ripped away.

But we had to keep it a secret from her parents—our parents. They couldn't know how we felt about each other.

Except tonight, the stakes had completely changed. That fucking photo on her phone. That single, terrifying word written in red: Soon.

Someone was actively watching her. Someone who knew exactly who she was, her daily schedule, and how to get close to her. My gut told me this wasn't some cheap paparazzi scumbag looking for a quick paycheck. This was something much darker. Something deliberate.

I finally forced my legs to move, turning away from the building. My small apartment was a ten-minute walk away, and I decided to take it slow, needing the biting cold air to clear the static out of my head. But it didn't work. The heavy unease sat squarely in my chest like a block of lead.

As I walked down the cracked sidewalk, my mind involuntarily drifted to Edmund Carlisle.

Edmund had been there since the very beginning. He was the one who had held my shaking shoulders at the funeral while my parents' coffins were lowered into the dirt. He was the one who told me heroic stories about them, who promised to always look after me when the rest of the world turned its back. He was the closest thing I had to a real father. And yet...

Something about Edmund over the last few years had always felt slightly off.

I tried to shake the thought, but it kept clawing its way back to the surface. It was the way Edmund always kept my grief so close to the surface, never letting the old wounds fully heal. He would constantly bring up the fire, constantly remind me of what I had lost, keeping the anger fresh. And then there was the way he always steered our private conversations toward the Lindstrom family.

“Are they treating you well, Adrian? Do they actually include you in their private dinners, or do they make you feel like a charity case? Do you feel like part of the family, or do you know your place as an outsider?”

I remembered the way Edmund's eyes would sharpen, turning cold and calculating, whenever I mentioned Victor Lindstrom's private business dealings or upcoming mergers.

I had dismissed it for years, telling myself that Edmund was just being protective. Edmund was my only remaining connection to my dead parents. Of course the old man would be intense about my well-being. Of course he would be suspicious of a billionaire tycoon like Victor Lindstrom.

But lately, the questions from Edmund had gotten far more pointed. More aggressive.

“Have you noticed anything unusual at the main office, Adrian? Any strange late-night meetings? Have you seen any private documents on Victor's desk that you shouldn't have seen?”

I had always answered no. Because there was truly nothing to report. The Lindstroms were good people. They had taken a mute, broken orphan into their home when no one else wanted the burden. They had raised me right alongside their own daughter. They had given me a life.

And Celeste...

Celeste was absolutely everything to me. She wasn't part of some massive corporate conspiracy. She wasn't hiding dark secrets. She was just a beautiful girl who had been lonely her entire life, even while surrounded by billions of dollars.

I shook my head aggressively, pressing my palms against my eyes as I turned the corner onto my street. I was being paranoid. The stress of the photo was making me crazy. Edmund was my mentor. My protector. The man who had pulled me out of the smoking wreckage of my childhood and given me a reason to keep living.

"He's just trying to protect me," I whispered to the empty, dark street as I pulled out my apartment keys.

But a tiny, nameless crack of doubt has formed.

Celeste’s POV

Three nights. That is exactly how long I had been living in pure, exhausting fear.

Every single time I walked to my car, I had to look over my shoulder. My eyes blurred from staring at that creepy, horrible photo on my phone screen. I was just waiting for something bad to happen next.

The anxiety felt like a heavy stone sitting right on my chest. It made it impossible to breathe. I could not eat. I could not sleep. I was losing my mind.

But Adrian was right there. He was my anchor, the only thing keeping me from breaking into pieces.

He never left me alone for long. He texted me every single hour to check in. He showed up at my place with takeout food I was too nervous to eat. He just held me tightly in his arms until my body finally stopped shaking.

Tonight, he promised me we could escape from it all.

My phone screen lit up with a new message from him. 'Meet me at the gate. Ten o’clock. Wear something warm. — A.'

I read the words twice, my heart jumping. I needed to see him. I needed it so bad it hurt.

I slipped out of the giant penthouse like a thief in the dark. It was surprisingly easy to bypass my dad’s expensive security team. I had been practicing how to sneak past them since I was a teenager, so I knew every single blind spot in the camera angles.

The night air hit my face hard. It was biting and sharp, freezing the breath inside my lungs.

But the second I saw him, the heavy panic in my chest started to fade. Adrian was leaning against the tall stone pillar at the edge of the estate. He looked so rugged and handsome in the pale moonlight. His dark hair was a total mess from the wind. His hands were shoved deep into his leather jacket pockets.

The very moment I stepped into view, his intense gaze locked onto mine.

“You came,” he said. His voice was low, rough, and vibrating with pure relief.

“You knew I would,” I whispered, walking straight toward him.

I needed to be closer. I needed to feel the intense heat radiating off his big body.

He pushed himself off the stone pillar. He crossed the short distance between us in two long, powerful strides. His hazel eyes moved quickly over my face, scanning every inch. That deep look always made my stomach do a slow, dizzy flip.

“You look totally exhausted, Celeste,” he said, his jaw tightening.

“I’m fine, Adrian. Really, I am.”

“No, you’re not fine,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “You’ve been jumping at your own shadow for three straight days. Your hands are shaking right now.”

He reached out, his warm fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. He traced the line of my jaw with so much tenderness it actually made my chest ache.

“It was just a bad tabloid scare,” he murmured, trying to comfort me. “A sick joke from some freak. I told you, we are safe here.”

“If we’re so safe, why does it feel like the walls are closing in on me?” I asked. My voice cracked, and I hates how weak I sounded. “I feel like someone is watching us right now.”

“Because you are letting the fear win,” he said.

His large hand slid to the back of my neck. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me just an inch closer to his chest.

“Let’s leave the whole world behind for a few hours,” he whispered against my forehead. “We are going to the old greenhouse. No phones. No annoying bodyguards. No paparazzi. Just us. Okay?”

I nodded quickly, my fingers gripping the tough fabric of his leather jacket. “Lead the way.”

We walked fast through the shadows of the estate. The greenhouse at the very edge of the property was filled with old memories. It had been totally abandoned after my grandmother passed away years ago. Over time, it had become our secret sanctuary.

We used to play hide-and-seek in this exact spot when we were only six years old. Then, when we turned sixteen, we shared our very first, fumbling kiss right inside those glass walls. It was the only place on earth where the heavy Lindstrom name did not matter at all.

Adrian reached out and pulled open the rusted iron door. It moved with a heavy, scraping sound.

I stepped into the semi-darkness, gasping quietly. The place was not empty at all.

He had spent time stringing up dozens of tiny, glowing fairy lights all along the glass rafters. They turned the old, dusty space into a beautiful, glowing cave. A thick pile of soft blankets and pillows was spread out perfectly under the center glass window. A small lantern on the floor cast soft, golden shadows against the green ivy walls.

“You did all this for me?” I turned around to look at him, my voice barely a whisper.

He looked down at his shoes. A rare flash of total vulnerability crossed his handsome face.

“I wanted you to have a place where you didn’t have to be a rich heiress,” he said softly, his eyes meeting mine again. “A place where you don’t have to be a target for anyone. I just wanted you to be Celeste.”

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I said.

I walked over to the thick pile of blankets and sank down onto the floor. The warmth of the greenhouse was already making my shivering stop. I patted the empty spot right next to me. “Come here.”

He sat down close beside me, our shoulders bumping tightly. We lay back together, staring up through the clear glass panels at the cold, quiet stars. It was so completely silent that I could hear the steady beat of my own heart.

“Do you ever think about telling them the truth?” I asked suddenly, breaking the quiet air. “Dad? Your mentor, Edmund? Everyone?”

Adrian went completely stiff next to me. The relaxed mood vanished instantly.

“You already know the answer to that, Celeste,” he said, his voice turning hard.

“I just hate hiding like this,” I said, rolling onto my side so I could look at his sharp profile. “It makes me feel like what we have is dirty. Like it's a shameful secret we have to keep locked away.”

“It is not dirty,” he snapped, his voice sharpening with sudden anger.

He turned his head fast to face me. His hazel eyes were incredibly dark with conviction.

“But if your father found out about us? He would cut me off in a heartbeat,” Adrian said, his chest rising and falling heavily. “He would say I am just a gold-digger. He would think I am playing some long, messed-up game just to get my hands on the Lindstrom family fortune.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” I said back, though my voice lacked real confidence. “He loves you like a son, Adrian. You know he does.”

“No, he loves me like a charity project,” Adrian corrected bitterly. “He loves me because I am the sad, grateful little orphan boy he saved from the streets. If I try to become his actual son-in-law? If I try to stand next to him as an equal? Everything changes. He will hate me.”

“So we just stay in the dark forever?” I asked, tears burning the backs of my eyes. “We just hide in the shadows like criminals?”

“For now, yes,” he said, his expression softening as he saw my distress.

He rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one strong hand. His other hand reached out to touch my face.

“Until we have a real plan,” he murmured. “Until I can make completely sure that no one on this earth can ever take you away from me.”

A single tear slipped down my cheek. I brushed it away quickly, angry at myself for being so emotional and weak.

“Adrian, you are the only person who has ever made me feel like a real human being,” I whispered, staring into his deep eyes. “When I am with you, I am not a giant trust fund. I am not a liability. I am not just a pretty face on a magazine cover. I am just me. You are the only thing that makes me feel real.”

He looked absolutely undone by my words. His jaw relaxed, and his hand trembled slightly as he cupped my cheek. His thumb dragged slowly over my bottom lip, applying just a tiny bit of pressure.

“You don't get it, do you?” he whispered, his voice a low, rough rasp. “You are the only person who ever made me feel whole after my parents died in that fire. You are my actual air, Celeste. I would be absolutely nothing without you.”

The air inside the old greenhouse suddenly felt thick and hot, charged with pure electricity.

“Then show me,” I whispered, my heart racing a million miles an hour. “Show me right now.”

He did not hesitate for even a second.

Adrian slid his large, warm hands up to cup my face, his thumbs tracing my cheekbones. He leaned down slowly, his dark eyes burning with a heavy, intense hunger as they locked onto my lips. The pure heat between us was driving me completely crazy. I reached up and grabbed the front of his leather jacket, pulling him down toward me, desperate to break the final barrier between us.

Our faces came closer and closer, our warm breaths mixing together in the quiet darkness. The tension was so thick I could barely breathe. We were just a millimeter away from a deep, passionate make-out session. My eyes drifted closed, my lips parting as I waited for the powerful crash of his mouth against mine.

Then, a sudden vibration shattered the quiet.

The phone shook violently against the dirt floor next to the blankets. The sharp, loud noise ripped through the silence of the greenhouse like a physical blow. I flinched hard, my eyes snapping open in instant fear. Adrian tensed up completely right above me, a low growl of pure frustration rattling in his deep chest.

“Ignore it,” he muttered, his hand tightening possessively on my hip. “Don't look at it.”

“I can’t,” I said, already scrambling to sit up.

My fingers were shaking badly as I dug through the messy pile of our discarded clothes. My heart sank instantly when I saw the name flashing bright on the screen.

Father.

I pressed the button and put the phone to my ear. “Dad?” I answered, trying my best to steady my trembling voice. “Dad, why are you calling me so late?”

My father’s voice came through the small speaker, and I almost dropped the phone right onto the dirt. It sounded completely strained, breathless, and terrified. It was a panicked tone I had never heard from him in my entire life.

“Celeste, where the hell are you?” he demanded, his words flying out in a frantic rush. “Don’t go home. Do you hear me? Do not go back to the penthouse. Do not go anywhere alone tonight!”

“Dad, what is happening? You’re really scaring me,” I said, my chest tightening up as the fear came rushing back.

“There was a horrible accident right outside your university campus today,” he said, his breathing incredibly ragged, like he had been running for his life. “And it wasn’t an actual accident, Celeste. It was a targeted message. They know exactly who you are now. They know where to find you.”

My blood ran completely cold in my veins. The phone felt like a heavy block of ice against my ear. “W-What are you talking about? Who knows?”

“I am sending a security team to get you right now,” he continued, his voice cracking with emotion. “Stay exactly where you are. Do not let a single person near you. Keep your head down, Celeste. I am doing everything I can to—”

The line went completely dead with a harsh, static noise.

“Dad?” I screamed into the phone, my panic exploding. “Dad! Answer me!”

There was nothing but pure, terrifying silence on the other end.

Adrian’s large hand clamped hard around my wrist. His grip was so incredibly tight that a sharp gasp escaped my lips. His handsome face had drained of all its color, turning completely pale in the golden light. His hazel eyes were wide and dangerously hard as he stared down at the dead phone in my hand.