Liora didn't remember how she got home.
Her footsteps had just carried her away from the argument, through the crowded streets, and up to her room. Now she sat there — lights off, books scattered — staring at nothing.
Her mind replayed every second of what had happened. Adrian's eyes. Ethan's voice. The way they had both looked at her — like she was something they had to protect, or possess.
It made her furious.And confused.And maybe, just a little… scared.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Ethan.
You okay? I'm sorry about earlier. He crossed a line.
She typed back quickly:
I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me.
A pause. Then another message.
Yeah, I do.
She stared at the screen, heart aching a little. Ethan had always been steady — calm, patient, the kind of person who made you feel safe. But safety wasn't what made her chest tighten lately.
No. That was Adrian.
Her thoughts flashed to the way he'd stepped forward, voice low and dangerous, eyes dark with emotion he didn't understand.
The part of her that hated him whispered stay away.The part of her that didn't… stayed silent.
A knock broke her thoughts.
"Liora?"
Her stepmother's voice drifted through the door. Liora quickly wiped her eyes. "Yeah?"
"Dinner's ready. Adrian's already downstairs."
Of course he was.
"I'll be down in a minute," Liora said, voice barely above a whisper.
When she finally came down, the dining room felt colder than usual. Adrian sat at the head of the table, scrolling through his phone, pretending not to notice her.
She sat across from him, hands folded neatly in her lap. The silence was sharp, almost physical.
He finally looked up. "You didn't have to shout like that."
Liora blinked. "Excuse me?"
"In the hallway," he said casually, though his jaw tightened. "You made it sound like I was—"
"Controlling?" she interrupted. "That's because you were."
Adrian's lips twitched — not quite a smile, not quite anger. "I was trying to protect you."
"I don't need your protection," she said flatly.
He leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. "Then stop making me want to."
The air went still.
Liora's fork clattered against her plate. "You don't get to say things like that, Adrian."
"I just did," he murmured, voice low.
She stood abruptly. "You can't keep confusing me like this."
He looked up at her, and for once, there was no smirk. No arrogance. Just quiet, raw confusion in his eyes. "I'm confusing myself too."
She froze. The honesty in his voice unsettled her more than any of his games ever had.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The tension between them wasn't made of hatred anymore — it was something deeper, heavier, harder to name.
Finally, she turned away, pulse racing. "I don't care," she lied softly. "Whatever this is, I don't want it."
Adrian didn't reply. But his gaze followed her all the way out of the room — until she disappeared up the stairs.
When the door closed behind her, he exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair.
He didn't know when everything had shifted — when anger had turned to obsession, or when rivalry had turned into something dangerously close to need.
All he knew was that Liora made him feel things he couldn't control.
And Adrian Knight hated losing control.