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.

Celeste’s POV

"Pick up. Come on, pick up the phone," I whispered, my voice shaking.

I pressed the glowing screen so hard against my ear that it really hurt. I was walking fast, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Dad, please. You have to answer me," I muttered, looking around the campus courtyard. "You cannot just call me out of nowhere, tell me there is a fake accident, tell me not to come home, and then just totally vanish. You are driving me fucking crazy. Answer the goddamn phone!"

I waited, holding my breath. But there was no ringing. Just a cold, mechanical voice cutting into my ear.

"We are sorry. The line you are trying to reach is dead. Please hang up and try again later."

"Damn it!" I screamed to the empty air.

I shoved the phone into my bag, my hands trembling. I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to act like a normal college student. It was the middle of the afternoon. The sun was bright, and hundreds of kids were walking around me. They were laughing. They were talking about midterms. They looked so happy and safe.

But inside my head, everything was totally spinning. I could not stop thinking about the scary photo from the roof. I could not forget the loud sirens at the greenhouse last night. And my dad's voice—it had sounded so broken and panicked.

"Adrian said it was fine," I whispered to myself, pulling my sweater tighter around my body. "He said it was just some stupid tabloid scare. He told me to calm down. But he is wrong. I know he is wrong. My gut is screaming at me."

"Hey! Watch where the hell you are going, you total idiot!"

A loud, angry shout broke through my thoughts. I stopped dead in my tracks near the edge of the stone path.

Right in front of me, a massive black BMW cut right off a guy on a sleek sports motorcycle. The bike made a horrible, loud sound as the tires skidded across the road. They left thick, black streaks on the gray pavement.

The door of the BMW slammed open. A guy in an expensive suit stepped out into the sunlight. His face was completely red with rage.

"Are you fucking blind, motherfucker?" the driver screamed, slamming his hand on the hood of his car. "You almost crashed straight into my door!"

The motorcyclist did not back down at all. He kicked his kickstand down and ripped his black helmet off. His face was totally pale, and he was dripping with sweat.

"You cut me off on purpose, you piece of shit!" the biker yelled back, his voice cracking. "Do you know how close you came to killing me? Back the hell off me right now!"

"I don't give a fuck about your bike, man!" the driver screamed. He took a big step forward, his hands turning into tight fists. "You have been following me for three whole blocks! I know exactly who sent you!"

"You are completely losing your goddamn mind, old man!" the biker shouted. He looked frantic. He looked totally desperate. "I don't know you! I don't owe you anything! Get the fuck out of my face before I make you regret it!"

"Oh, you think you are tough?" the driver sneered. His voice went low and dark. It was a scary sound that made all the hairs on my arms stand up. "You are a dead man walking if you don't hand over what belongs to the company right now. I know what you took from the main office. Give it to me!"

"I don't have shit for you!" the biker yelled, shaking his head. "Get away from me!"

"Give it to me now!" the driver roared.

"Fuck you!" the biker screamed.

The biker stumbled backward. His heavy boot caught on the edge of the concrete curb right where I was standing.

"Whoa!" he gasped, his arms flying wild in the air.

He lost his balance completely and crashed heavily into a row of green bushes right next to me. As he hit the ground, a small, heavy black thing flew out of his open jacket pocket. It skidded across the hard concrete and stopped right at the toes of my boots.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" I asked, stepping forward. I reached my hand out to help him up.

"Get the fuck away from me, lady!" the biker snapped. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with absolute terror. "Mind your own damn business if you want to stay alive!"

"I was just trying to help—" I started to say.

"Shut up and stay back!" he yelled.

Without even looking down at the ground, the biker jumped back onto his motorcycle. He kicked the engine into a loud roar and sped away. He wove dangerously through the big campus gates, almost hitting a tree.

The driver of the black car let out a loud curse. "Fuck! No!"

He ran back to his car, slammed the door shut, and mashed his foot on the gas pedal. The tires screeched loudly against the asphalt as he chased after the bike, disappearing into the heavy city traffic.

I stood there for a second, my heart thumping hard against my ribs.

"What the hell was that?" I whispered to myself.

I looked down at my feet. The small black object was still sitting there on the gray stone. Without thinking, I reached down and picked it up. It felt so cold in my hand. It was heavy and made of metal. It was a rugged, military-grade flash drive.

"Hey, mister! You forgot your—" I called out, turning toward the street.

But they were completely gone.

I stood in the center of the path, holding the cold metal.

"Great. Just great," I sighed, throwing the drive into the bottom of my leather bag. "A threat from some anonymous freak, a dad who won't answer me, and now I am picking up literal trash off the street. This day is perfect."

...

Hours went by. I completely forgot about the crazy fight on campus. It was not until later that night, when I finally got back to my penthouse apartment, that I remembered it.

The apartment was dead quiet. The heavy silence made me feel so totally alone.

I dropped my bag onto the kitchen island. The heavy thud made a loud echo in the dark room.

"I hate this," I muttered, looking around. "I hate being so scared."

I reached into my bag to grab my keys, but my fingers brushed against the cold metal edges of the flash drive. I pulled it out, holding it up to the dim kitchen light.

"What even are you?" I murmured, my stomach twisting with sudden curiosity.

The drive had no labels. No logos. Nothing but a heavy lock seal on the cap. It looked important. It looked really dangerous.

"Those men today," I said out loud. "They were not fighting about a traffic accident. They were fighting about this. They were fighting about what is inside this drive."

I walked over to the living room couch and grabbed my laptop from the table. I sat down, my hands shaking a little bit as I flipped the screen open.

"This is a terrible idea," I told the empty room. "A completely, totally terrible idea, Celeste."

But I was so desperate for answers. I needed to know what was happening to my life. I pushed the flash drive into the side port of my laptop.

A bright blue loading bar flashed across the screen. Then, a dark window popped up with a single text box.

PASSWORD REQUIRED. DECRYPTION ATTEMPT 1 OF 3.

"A password. Of course it needs a password," I groaned, leaning my head back against the cushions. "Because my life could never be simple for five minutes. Screw this."

I stared at the blinking line.

"What would a corporate thief use?" I muttered, typing fast. "Let's try the basic stuff. A-D-M-I-N."

I hit enter. The screen flashed a bright, angry red.

INCORRECT. 2 ATTEMPTS REMAINING.

"Okay, okay, think, Celeste," I whispered to myself. My breath was getting short. My chest felt tight. "What about the car? B-M-W? No, that is stupid. Think harder."

I closed my eyes. Suddenly, my mind went straight to Adrian. I missed him so much it hurt. I wished he was here right now, holding me tight, telling me everything was going to be fine. I thought about the way he looked at me in the greenhouse. I thought about his hazel eyes, and how they always had that sad, dark shadow. He talked about his mom sometimes. His voice always carried so much deep pain when he did.

"It makes no sense," I whispered, my fingers moving across the keyboard. "It makes absolutely no sense, but I am doing it anyway."

I typed out his mother's maiden name in big letters. L-A-U-R-E-N-T.

I hit enter.

The screen did not flash red. Instead, the black window broke apart. A bunch of green loading bars filled the monitor.

"Holy shit," I gasped, my eyes going totally wide. I sat up straight, my heart racing. "It actually unlocked. Why the hell would a random biker's drive unlock with Adrian's mom's name? This cannot be a coincidence. No way."

I moved the mouse over the main folder. The title at the top of the screen made all the blood run straight out of my face.

THE BLACK LEDGER.

"What the fuck is a black ledger?" I whispered into the quiet penthouse.

I clicked the folder open. Hundreds of files showed up on the screen. They had dates, names, and big numbers. I clicked the first document, my eyes scanning the simple, scary headers.

"Political corruption," I read out loud, my voice shaking. "Multi-million-dollar money laundering. Fake companies."

Then, I saw a folder with a dark, heavy title.

ASSASSINATIONS.

My stomach twisted into a painful knot. I felt like I was going to throw up.

"This isn't a joke," I whispered, tears burning my eyes. "These are real papers. Real bank accounts. Real body counts."

I scrolled down more. My fingers were shaking so badly I could barely control the trackpad. Suddenly, a specific file name caught my eye. My breath stopped completely in my throat. It was a date from eleven years ago. The exact date of the car accident that killed Adrian's parents.

Right next to the file name, a big digital stamp glowed in bright, bleeding red letters.

SUPPRESSED.

"No, no, no," I whimpered, a cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. "Please, God, no. Don't let it be this. Please."

I clicked the file. A copy of an old police report popped up. But it was not the clean version Adrian had shown me. This one was covered in handwritten notes and secret corporate emails.

I read the words out loud, my voice breaking in the quiet room.

"The... the Laurent vehicle," I stuttered, tears of pure horror blurring my blue eyes. "Brake line failure suspected to be intentional. Someone cut the fluid lines. Case closed by executive privilege... funded by the Lindstrom Group."

The screen became a total blur. A loud, heavy sob tore out of my throat. I pressed my hands over my mouth, my chest heaving as the horrible truth crashed through my brain.

"Adrian's parents did not die in a tragic accident," I choked out, the emotional weight completely crushing me. "They were murdered. They were executed. And my family... my father's company... we paid for it. We killed them."

I sat there, crying, my mind spinning in pure agony. The betrayal was too much to bear.

"Adrian," I sobbed into the empty room. "Oh god, Adrian, I-I didn't know. We didn't know. I swear we didn't know."

I was still crying, my mind screaming in pain, when a sudden, violent sound broke the silence of my apartment.

A heavy, wood-splintering crash came from the front hallway.

I flinched hard, slamming my laptop shut. I ripped the black flash drive out of the port and held it tightly in my fist.

"Who is out there?" I shrieked, scrambling off the couch. "Stay back! I-I have a gun!"

I lied, my voice trembling so much it was entirely unconvincing.

Another massive, loud blow hit the front door. The expensive wood split completely, cracking right down the center. Through the broken panel, a large hand in a black glove punched through the wood. It fumbled around frantically, trying to find the lock from the inside.

"Open the fucking door!" a loud, angry voice yelled from the hallway. "Open it now, bitch! I know you are in there!"

"Oh god, please no! Help! Somebody help me!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

I backed away toward the large balcony windows. I was totally trapped. The penthouse was on the top floor. There was nowhere left to run.

"Give us the drive or you are dead!" the voice shouted, the wood splitting more.

"Go away! The police are coming!" I screamed back, tears streaming down my face. "Leave me alone!"

Suddenly, a second, massive crash happened right behind me.

The heavy glass of the balcony window shattered into a million tiny pieces. It rained down onto the floor like a deadly silver waterfall.

I spun around, let out a sharp scream, and fell backward onto the hard floor. A tall, dark silhouette dropped down from the stone railing straight into my living room. He stepped effortlessly through the piles of broken glass.

"Miss Lindstrom, get behind me. Now," a calm, deep voice commanded.

I scrambled backward on my hands and knees, my nails scratching the wood. I wanted to keep my body as far away from this stranger as possible. I held the tiny black flash drive against my chest like a shield, my eyes wide with pure terror.

"Who the fuck are you?" I screamed, my voice cracking. "Don't touch me! Get the hell away from me!"

"I said get behind me," the man repeated. His voice was cold as ice.

The massive figure did not move toward me. Instead, he stood up to his full height. He placed his powerful body right between me and the splintering front door. In the dim light of the room, I could not see his face perfectly, but I could see the intense glimmer of two piercing, ice-blue eyes staring out into the dark. A thin, white scar went from behind his right ear all the way down to his collarbone, standing out sharply against his dark clothes.

"Are you going to help me or kill me?" I choked out, my chest heaving as I looked at him.

"If I wanted you dead, you would be dead already," he said softly, his eyes never leaving the front door. "Now shut up and stay down."

He moved with a terrifying, predator-like precision, completely blocking the danger, waiting for the front door to burst open.