Paris had a way of trapping emotions in its streets, as if the air itself carried secrets. Elena felt it the moment she woke up the next morning. Her body was tired, her mind restless, but her heart was pounding with a strange heaviness she didn't want to admit.
Adrian was already dressed when she emerged from her room, standing by the suite's window with a phone in his hand. He wore a dark suit, perfectly cut, his presence commanding even in silence.
Without looking at her, he said, "Laurent called again. He's pushing harder. He wants an answer by tonight."
Elena crossed her arms. "And if we don't give him one?"
"Then he walks," Adrian replied, slipping the phone into his pocket. "And everything we've built here collapses."
She bristled. "You mean everything you've built. Don't pretend this is about anyone but you."
Finally, he turned to face her. His eyes locked onto hers, sharp but tired. "You think I dragged you into this for fun? That I put you in danger just to see you squirm?"
Elena's voice cracked under the weight of her frustration. "Then why? Why me? Out of all the people you could have chosen, why did you decide to make me part of this game?"
Adrian stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. "Because you're not afraid of me. Because when you look at me, you don't see money, or power, or privilege. You fight me. And I…" He paused, his jaw tightening. "I can't ignore that."
Her chest rose and fell quickly. "That's not an answer. That's deflection."
For a long moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint hum of the city outside. Then Adrian said something she never expected.
"You deserve the truth."
Elena froze. His tone was different—raw, unpolished, stripped of the sharpness he usually carried.
"I knew your father," Adrian said. "Long before you ever walked into my office."
Her breath caught. "You—what?"
"He owed me," Adrian continued, his voice low but steady. "Not money. Not favors. He owed me justice. He destroyed lives, Elena. He ruined people without blinking. One of them was my family."
Elena's throat tightened, her heartbeat slamming against her ribs. "My father… he—no. He wasn't perfect, but—"
Adrian cut her off, his voice sharp, filled with anger barely contained. "Your father was a liar. He manipulated, cheated, and walked away while others paid the price. Do you know what it feels like to watch your own mother lose everything because of someone else's greed?"
Elena's eyes stung, tears threatening to surface. She shook her head, refusing to believe. "You're twisting this. You're making him into a villain because it suits you."
Adrian's expression hardened. "I don't need to twist anything. The truth is ugly enough on its own."
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. Elena's mind spun, torn between loyalty to her father's memory and the conviction in Adrian's words.
Finally, she whispered, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
His jaw clenched. "Because I didn't want you to see me as weak. I wanted you to hate me for what I did to you—not pity me for what he did to me."
Her chest tightened painfully. For the first time, Adrian Blackwood wasn't the untouchable, ruthless businessman. He was a man scarred by loss, carrying pain he refused to show the world.
But the revelation cut deep, leaving her torn in ways she hadn't expected.
"You should have told me," Elena said, her voice trembling. "You should have given me a chance to decide what to believe. Instead, you chained me to you without explanation."
Adrian stepped even closer, his presence overwhelming, his eyes dark and unyielding. "And you stayed. Even when you had every chance to walk away."
Her breath hitched. "Because you didn't give me a choice."
His voice dropped, low and rough. "No. Because part of you didn't want one."
The air between them thickened, charged with something neither of them wanted to name. Elena's pulse hammered as she met his gaze, her own emotions betraying her.
She hated him. She wanted him. She wanted to run, and she wanted to stay.
"Adrian…" Her voice broke on his name.
For a moment, his hand lifted, as if he meant to touch her cheek. But he froze, stopping just inches away. His control snapped back, walls rebuilding as quickly as they had cracked.
"You don't understand what you're playing with," he said harshly, pulling back.
Elena's chest ached. "Then explain it to me. Stop hiding behind your anger and your contracts and just tell me what you want."
His eyes burned into hers. "What I want?" He exhaled sharply, the words tearing from him. "I want revenge, Elena. I want justice for everything your father stole from me. But damn it—" His voice faltered, rare and raw. "I want you too."
The confession hit her like a storm, shattering every defense she had built. Her breath caught, her body trembling.
"You can't have both," she whispered.
Adrian's eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as though the words were a knife.
"Maybe not," he said finally, his tone flat again. "But I've never been good at choosing."
He turned sharply, grabbing his coat from the chair. "We're meeting Laurent in an hour. Be ready."
And just like that, the moment was gone.
Elena stood frozen in the middle of the room, her heart pounding, her mind racing.
Adrian Blackwood had confessed the truth. His hatred. His pain. H
is desire.
And now, she didn't know whether to fight him harder… or fall even deeper.