Even after the storm outside had passed, anxiety was still palpable within Adrian's mansion. Rhea stood in the dimly lit hallway, her heart thumping against her chest as she mentally reviewed what had happened that evening: the threats, the odd phone call, and Adrian's total shutdown. She raised her hand to knock on his study door, but before she could, the lock clicked open from inside.
Adrian stood there, tall, sharp, and unreadable. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, veins visible along his forearms, and there was a cold fire burning behind his silver-grey eyes. Rhea could tell he was furious—but not at her. Something else was eating him alive. "Adrian… we need to talk," she said softly. He exhaled a breath that was almost a growl.
"I know." He stepped aside and let her in. The study was dark except for the single lamp glowing above scattered documents. She noticed the familiar seal on one of them—her father's company logo. Her stomach dropped. "You found something," she whispered. Adrian leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "Not something. Someone." Rhea froze. "What do you mean?" He looked at her, sharp and direct. "Someone inside your family is working with the people who tried to destroy you." The room tilted for a moment.
Rhea grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. "No… that's impossible," she breathed out. "My family—" "Your family doesn't protect you," Adrian cut her off. "They hide things from you." His voice hardened. "Your father's accident wasn't just an accident. And those financial leaks? They weren't external attacks. They were internal." Her pulse raced. Everything she believed began slipping from her hands. "Who?" she whispered, barely audible. Adrian stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I need confirmation before I name anyone.
But the pattern is clear. Someone very close to you is playing both sides." A shiver ran down her spine. "And the person who called me tonight…" he continued, "warned me that the next strike will be personal." Rhea's breath hitched. "Personal? You mean—" "You," he said. Suddenly, his hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her closer, his voice dropping into a raw, possessive note. "I won't let them touch you."
Her chest tightened at the intensity in his voice. For a moment, she forgot about betrayal, danger—everything. But then Adrian stepped back. A wall came up again, cold and unbreakable. "Starting tomorrow," he said quietly, "you won't leave this house without me. No exceptions." She blinked. "You're… guarding me?" "I'm protecting what's mine," he said before he could stop himself. Rhea's breath caught. "Yours?" A shadow crossed his eyes. He looked away, jaw clenching. "That's not what I meant," he said stiffly. But the damage was done. The words hung between them, heavy and electric.
Rhea took a small step closer. "Adrian… look at me." He didn't. So she touched his arm—gently, like she was touching a wounded lion. He finally met her gaze. And for the first time that night, she saw fear. Not for himself. For her. Her voice softened. "You don't have to do this alone." Adrian stared at her for a long moment. Then slowly—very slowly—he reached out and touched her cheek, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly.
"I know," he whispered. "But I don't know how to stop." Before she could respond, the lights suddenly flickered. Both of them froze. A second later, the entire mansion went dark. Rhea's breath stuck in her throat. Adrian's body tensed instantly. He grabbed her hand. "Stay close," he said. Another sound echoed down the hallway—a soft, deliberate footstep. Not from the staff. Not from the wind. Someone else was inside the mansion.