Elara's POV
Adrian stood in my bedroom doorway, backlit by the hallway light, and smiled.
It wasn't the warm smile from my childhood—the one that promised protection and ice cream after bad dreams. This smile was different. Colder. Like he knew a secret I was only beginning to discover.
Close your laptop, Elara.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Seventeen names glowed on the screen. Seventeen people who'd vanished from my life. All the evidence I needed was right there in my search history.
I was just—
I said close it. His voice remained soft, but something underneath made my stomach twist.
I closed the laptop. The room felt smaller with him in it.
Adrian walked toward my bed and sat on the edge like he'd done a thousand times before. Except this time, every muscle in my body screamed at me to run.
You're wondering about those people, he said. The intern. The others. You're connecting dots that don't exist.
Don't they? The words came out braver than I felt.
His eyes met mine. Dark. Unreadable. You think I'm what? Sabotaging your friendships? Destroying careers because people showed interest in my little sister?
When he said it like that, it sounded crazy. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe it really was just bad luck and coincidence and
Jake's resume was legitimate, I said quietly. I saw it during his interview. No lies. No fake references.
The silence stretched between us like a wire pulled too tight.
Are you calling me a liar? Adrian's voice dropped to barely a whisper. Somehow that made it more terrifying.
I should have backed down. Apologized. Smoothed things over like I always did. But something in me—something that had been sleeping for too long—woke up.
I'm saying maybe you made a mistake.
Adrian stood slowly. He moved toward me, and I instinctively stepped back until my shoulders hit the wall.
I don't make mistakes, Elara. Not when it comes to protecting you. His hand came up, palm flat against the wall beside my head. Caging me in. Those people—every single one of them—would have hurt you. Used you. Taken advantage of your kindness.
You don't know that.
I know better than you do. His face was inches from mine now. Close enough that I could see the muscle ticking in his jaw. I've always known what's best for you. Since you were a little girl holding my hand on your first day of school. Since you came crying to me about bullies. Since you trusted me to keep you safe from everything bad in this world.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I'm not a little girl anymore.
No, Adrian agreed, his gaze dropping to my lips for just a second before returning to my eyes. You're not.
Something in the way he said it made my skin crawl.
I need you to leave my room.
Do you? He didn't move. Or do you need me to stay and help you understand that everything I do, I do because I love you more than anyone else ever could?
The word love came out wrong. Twisted. Not how brothers should say it.
A phone rang downstairs. Dad's voice drifted up through the floor, talking loudly about some business emergency.
Adrian's hand dropped from the wall. He stepped back, and I could breathe again.
Get some sleep, Elara. You're stressed. Imagining things. He walked to the door, then paused. And delete that search history. You wouldn't want Mom and Dad thinking you're having some kind of breakdown.
He left. I stood against the wall, shaking, until I heard his bedroom door close down the hall.
Then I grabbed my phone and texted the only person I could trust.
Mira. I need help. Something's wrong with Adrian.
The reply came instantly. Wrong how?
My fingers trembled as I typed. I think he's been sabotaging my life. Getting rid of anyone who gets close to me.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Pack a bag. I'm booking you a flight to Paris. Tonight.
I can't just leave.
Yes you can. Whatever's happening, you need distance. Trust me.
I looked at my closed bedroom door. Listened to the silence beyond it. Adrian was still awake, could see the light under his door from my doorway.
Always watching. Always there. Always one step ahead.
Okay, I typed. But I need to know something first. Tomorrow. I need proof I'm not crazy.
The next morning, I arrived at Ashford Industries an hour early. The building was nearly empty except for security and cleaning staff.
I took the elevator to the fifth floor—HR's domain—and my hands were sweating as I approached Jake's old desk. It had been cleared out yesterday, but maybe something remained. Some evidence that Adrian had lied about the resume fraud.
The desk was empty. Completely stripped.
Looking for something?
I spun around. Marcus Wei, Adrian's assistant, stood behind me holding two coffee cups. He was young, barely older than me, with kind eyes that seemed genuinely concerned.
I... I wanted to see if Jake left anything behind.
Marcus glanced around nervously. You should go back to your floor.
Did you see his resume? Before he was fired?
Something flickered across Marcus's face. Fear? Guilt?
I can't talk about that, he said quietly. Adrian would, He stopped himself.
Adrian would what?
Marcus looked at me for a long moment. Then he pulled out his phone, tapped something, and showed me the screen.
It was a photo of Jake's resume. Legitimate companies. Real references. No lies.
I took this before Adrian made me delete the file, Marcus whispered. Jake didn't lie about anything. Your brother fabricated evidence to justify firing him.
The floor tilted beneath my feet.
Why are you telling me this?
Because you deserve to know the truth. Marcus glanced over his shoulder. But Elara, you need to be careful. I've worked for Adrian for three years. I've seen what he does to people who cross him. And the way he talks about you... He trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Just be careful.
The elevator dinged behind us.
Marcus's face went white. Go. Now. Don't let him know we talked.
I ran for the stairwell, my heart in my throat. Behind me, I heard Adrian's voice, smooth and pleasant.
Good morning, Marcus. Have you seen my sister?
I didn't hear Marcus's response. I was already racing down the stairs, Marcus's words echoing in my head.
The way he talks about you...
What did that mean?
I burst onto my floor, gasping for breath, and nearly collided with someone.
Adrian.
He'd taken the other elevator. Cut me off.
You're here early, he observed, his hand steadying me. And out of breath. Were you running from something?
His fingers tightened on my arm. Not painful. But firm enough that I couldn't pull away.
Or, he continued, his voice dropping lower, were you looking for something you shouldn't?
Over his shoulder, I saw Marcus step off the elevator. His face was pale, terrified.
And in Adrian's other hand, I saw Marcus's phone.
The one with Jake's real resume on it.
We need to talk, Adrian said pleasantly. In my office. Now.