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.
