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.

Adrian’s POV

The constant, heavy shaking of my phone against the wooden nightstand woke me up.

I blinked hard against the bright morning light, my eyes burning. My entire body still ached with the warm, addictive memory of the night before. My skin felt like it was on fire just thinking about Celeste. I could still feel her soft, shaking hands on my chest. I could still hear her desperate, breathless whispers under the glass roof of the greenhouse. We had been so damn close to losing all control before her dad called and ruined everything.

I reached out my arm, completely exhausted, hoping to see a sweet text from her. I wanted to tell her that I was ready to protect her from whatever freak was stalking her.

But the name flashing on the screen made my stomach drop instantly.

Edmund Carlisle.

I pressed the button and put the phone to my ear, my voice rough from sleep. “Edmund? What’s going on? It’s way too early for this.”

“Are you awake, Adrian?” Edmund asked. His voice was completely flat, totally devoid of any warmth.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” I muttered, sitting up and rubbing my face. “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to get dressed and come to my office downtown right now,” he said.

“Right now?” I frowned, my chest tightening. “Can’t it wait a few hours? I have things I need to take care of today. Celeste is—”

“No, it cannot wait,” Edmund interrupted, his tone sharpening like a knife. “It is about your parents, Adrian. It is about the night they died.”

My heart stopped for a second. “My parents? Why the hell are you bringing them up? That was eleven years ago, Edmund.”

“Just get here,” he commanded. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

The line went completely dead.

An hour later, I was standing right outside the heavy oak doors of Edmund’s private office. My hands were shoved deep into my leather jacket pockets, mostly because the morning air was freezing, but also because my fingers wouldn’t stop shaking.

For eleven long years, this exact office had been my safe haven. Edmund was the guy who had held my shaking shoulders at the cemetery while the cold dirt was thrown over my parents' coffins. He was the one who bought me my first jacket. He was the one who sat up with me during my worst nightmares, telling me stories about how my dad used to laugh. He swore to protect me from the world.

But as I turned the brass handle and walked inside, the room felt totally wrong. It was freezing cold. The air felt heavy and dead.

Edmund sat quietly behind his massive mahogany desk. The bright sun caught his silver hair, making him look older. He looked incredibly grave, the usual warm wrinkles around his pale grey eyes completely gone.

“You look pale, Adrian,” Edmund said, staring straight at me. “Sit down.”

“I don’t want to sit down,” I said, staying right by the door. “Your call woke me up out of a dead sleep. You said this was about my mom and dad. What the hell is going on, Edmund? Give it to me straight.”

“Because I finally have what I’ve been looking for,” Edmund murmured.

He reached into his leather briefcase, pulled out a thick, faded manila folder, and slid it slowly across the polished wood. It stopped right at the very edge of the desk, right in front of me.

“What is this?” I asked, my voice dropping.

“I’ve been quietly, privately investigating that car accident for over a decade,” Edmund said, leaning back in his chair. “I never stopped looking for the truth, Adrian. Not even for a single day.”

I stared down at the folder like it was a venomous snake ready to bite me. “The truth? The truth is that the brakes failed. The road was slick. The police closed the file before I even got out of my hospital bed.”

“The police were paid a massive amount of money to close that file,” Edmund said flatly.

I felt a sudden rush of cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. “What did you just say?”

“Open the folder, Adrian,” Edmund instructed, his voice dropping into a low, heavy register. “See it for yourself.”

My breath hitched in my throat. I took a slow step closer to the desk. My hand was shaking violently as I reached out and flipped open the heavy cardboard cover.

The very first thing I saw was a horrible, glossy photograph. It was a picture of twisted, burnt metal. It was the exact car my family had died in. The phantom smell of thick smoke and gasoline filled my senses instantly, making my head spin.

“What the fuck is this?” I choked out, my voice cracking. “Why are you showing me this shit?”

“Look at the second page,” Edmund said gently, his face showing a perfect mask of grandfatherly sorrow. “That is the real mechanic's report from the forensic garage. It was hidden away. Read the highlighted lines out loud, Adrian. Let the words really sink into your head.”

My eyes scanned the white page, my vision blurring completely. “B-brake lines... clean cuts,” I stammered, my chest heaving as I forced the words out. “Multiple cuts showing deliberate tampering. Fluid drained completely prior to impact.”

I dropped the paper back onto the desk, my heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped animal. “No. No, this is totally insane. This page says somebody murdered them.”

“They did,” Edmund said softly, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. “They were executed, Adrian. Your mother and your father were slaughtered in cold blood.”

“Who did it?” I yelled, slamming my open palms down on the hard desk so hard it hurt. My hazel eyes were wide with pure rage. “Tell me who the fuck did this, Edmund! Give me a fucking name!”

“Look at the financial records at the very bottom of the folder,” Edmund replied. His tone remained perfectly calm, which made it even more deadly. “Look at the dates. Look at the company names.”

I grabbed the final sheet of paper, my teeth grinding together. It was a certified financial document from the Lindstrom Group. My dad’s old company logo was stamped right next to it.

I read the numbers over and over, but they didn’t make sense. “This... this is a multi-billion-euro business partnership,” I whispered, looking up at him. “It was finalized exactly one week after the crash.”

“A massive European distribution partnership,” Edmund explained. He stood up slowly and walked around the desk, his boots heavy on the floor. He placed a firm hand on my rigid shoulder. “A partnership that your parents' independent firm had been actively blocking for two solid years. Your father was preparing to file a legal paper the very next month. If he had, the Lindstrom Group would have gone completely bankrupt. They would have lost everything.”

I felt the entire floor tilt beneath my boots. I felt sick to my stomach. “No. No, that’s impossible. Victor Lindstrom took me in. He raised me. He gave me a luxury home when I had absolutely nothing left in the world. He treated me like family.”

“He took you in because he was drowning in his own guilt, boy,” Edmund whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “He kept you close so he could watch you. He wanted to make sure you never discovered what he did. Victor Lindstrom had your parents murdered, Adrian. He ordered the hit to save his fucking money.”

“You’re wrong!” I roared, tearing myself away from Edmund’s touch.

I backed away toward the door, my chest heaving wildly as tears of pure rage burned my eyes. “Victor is flawed, okay? He’s weak sometimes, and he cares too much about his status, but he isn’t a goddamn murderer! He wouldn’t do that to my family! He loved my father! They were best friends!”

“The ledger doesn’t lie, Adrian,” Edmund said, his pale grey eyes hardening into pure ice behind his glasses. “The cut brake lines don’t lie either. I loved your father too. Do you think it pleases me to bring you this agony? Do you think I want to shatter your entire world?”

“I don’t believe you,” I breathed out, my back hitting the cold wood of the office door. I felt totally trapped, like the walls were crushing me. Everything I knew, everything I trusted for the last ten years, was turning to absolute ash. “I-I can’t believe you.”

“There is more, Adrian,” Edmund said. His voice dropped to a harsh, poisonous whisper that echoed off the walls. “The worst part of this story isn't even Victor.”

I froze, a terrible, sickening dread wrapping around my throat like a tight rope. I could barely get the words out. “What do you mean by that? Who else could possibly be involved?”

“Celeste,” Edmund said simply.

The name felt like a physical fist punching straight through my chest, shattering my heart into a million pieces. “Leave her out of this! She has nothing to do with the company! She was a little six-year-old girl when the crash happened! She’s innocent!”

“She was six when it happened, yes,” Edmund countered, taking a step closer to me. His face was filled with fake pity. “But she isn’t six anymore, Adrian. She found out the entire truth two years ago.”

“You’re lying,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “You’re a fucking liar.”

“I have the digital logs, Adrian,” Edmund said, his voice snapping loudly like a whip. “I have the proof that she discovered the secret ledger on her father’s computer. She knows exactly how her father built the foundation of her precious inheritance. She knows her father killed your parents, and she chose to stay completely silent just to protect the Lindstrom name.”

“No,” I screamed, my fists clenching so hard that my fingernails cut deep into my palms, drawing blood. “She loves me! We were just together last night! She wouldn’t hide this from me! She wouldn’t look me in the eye and tell me she loves me if she knew her family murdered mine! She wouldn’t do that to me!”

“She is a Lindstrom, Adrian,” Edmund barked. “Blood always calls to blood. She looks at you and she doesn’t see a boyfriend. She sees a liability. She sees the boy whose life her family destroyed. She is keeping you close, playing with your heart, making sure you stay completely blind so you never question the past!”

“No... no, no...” My knees completely gave out beneath me.

I slid down the cold wood of the door, collapsing onto the floor. I buried my face in my rough hands, a jagged, broken sob ripping from my throat. My mind flashed right back to the greenhouse.

I remembered the absolute purity in Celeste’s sapphire-blue eyes. I remembered the way she had looked at me when we were lying on those blankets. I remembered the way she whispered my name like I was her savior, and the tight, desperate way she had held me against the cold night air.

Was it all a lie? Was every single touch just a distraction to keep me quiet? Was she just sleeping with me to keep her family’s dirty secret safe?

The thought made me want to throw up right there on the floor.

Edmund walked over and knelt down right in front of me. His face was only inches from mine, his eyes cold and demanding.

“Listen to me, Adrian. You have a huge choice to make right now,” Edmund said, his voice returning to that smooth, grandfatherly tone. “You can let them get away with it. You can go right back to that penthouse, crawl right back into Celeste’s bed, and let the girl who covers up your parents’ murder hold you while you sleep. You can be their loyal little pet for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?”

I looked up slowly, my vision dark. My hazel eyes were completely bloodshot, filled with a terrifying, hollow emptiness. “Or what, Edmund? What else am I supposed to do? My life is over.”

“Or you can help me make them pay,” Edmund said, a dark, evil smile touching his lips.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek, cheap black burner phone. He pressed it hard into my limp, bloody palm.

“Celeste trusts you completely,” Edmund whispered, his words twisting inside my brain. “She loves you. Use that to your absolute advantage, Adrian. Stay as close to her as possible. Sleep in her bed. Watch her every single move. Learn every single secret her father is hiding from the world. And when the time comes... you will help me tear the Lindstrom empire apart from the inside out.”

I stared down at the small plastic phone in my hand. It felt incredibly heavy, like a loaded gun aimed at my own head.

My heart was completely in pieces, bleeding out inside my chest. The girl I loved with every single fiber of my being—the only person who had ever made me feel alive after the fire—was the daughter of a murderer. And worse, she was his accomplice. She had looked at me, kissed me, and held me, all while knowing her father cut my parents' brake lines.

I had absolutely no idea that the documents in the folder were total fabrications. I did not know the police report was completely forged by a professional criminal. I had no idea that the silver-haired man standing right in front of me was the exact monster who had personally ordered the hit and caused the fatal crash eleven years ago.

I only knew that my entire world had just turned to absolute ash.

“I’ll do it,” I whispered. My voice was completely dead, devoid of any emotion.

“Good boy,” Edmund smiled, patting my pale cheek. “I knew your father’s son wouldn’t let his memory be disgraced. Go right back to her. Play the part perfectly, Adrian.”

I stood up on numb legs, clutching the manila folder tightly against my ribs. I shoved the black burner phone deep into my jacket pocket. I didn’t say another word to him. I turned the handle, stepped out of the freezing office, and walked out into the bright, blinding morning air.

I felt like a ghost walking among the living. I was no longer the boy who loved her. I had just been turned into a weapon, precision-engineered and aimed straight at the beating heart of the girl I loved.

An hour later, I returned to my dim, quiet apartment. I didn’t even breathe as I walked through the door. I didn’t bother to turn on any lights. I walked straight into my small bedroom, my movements completely mechanical, like a robot functioning on a dead battery.

I walked over to my heavy wooden dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer. I reached all the way to the back to press a hidden latch in the corner. The false bottom popped open with a dry, quiet click.

I placed the black burner phone and the thick manila folder full of forged lies inside the dark space. I slid the wood back into place until the secret compartment vanished entirely.

I stood up slowly, my body feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. I walked over to the window, leaning my forehead against the cool glass. I stared at my own bleak reflection in the dark, unlit pane.

My hazel eyes were completely hollow. The permanent shadow of my old childhood grief was now replaced by a terrifying, cold void. My jaw was set in a rigid, unforgiving line. The small scar through my left eyebrow looked stark white against my pale skin.

My voice was barely a whisper against the glass, my warm breath fogging the window pane. “What the hell have I just agreed to?”

My phone in my pocket vibrated. I pulled it out, my hands shaking. It was my regular phone. A text from Celeste popped up on the screen.

'Are you okay? I haven't heard from you all morning. My dad has me locked in the penthouse. I'm so scared, Adrian. I need you.'

I stared at her words, my heart twisting in pure agony. Was she actually scared, or was she just setting up another trap to keep me close?

I typed back a short, simple reply, my fingers completely numb.

'I'm okay, little star. I'm coming to see you right now. Don't worry. I'm going to protect you.'

I shoved the phone back into my pocket, my jaw clenching. Somewhere across the city, completely oblivious to the darkness unfolding, Celeste was waiting for me. She was entirely unaware that the boy she loved had just been turned into a devastating bomb.

And the timer had just started ticking.