"Camila, you're burning up. We need to get you to a hospital—now," Jeremy’s voice was shaky, urgent. His hand brushed over my forehead, but there was no comfort in it. The coldness from his touch sent a shiver down my spine.
I felt the fever, like a wave crashing over me, pulling me under. But it wasn’t just the fever. It was him—the distance, the silence that had grown between us.
The aching reminder that Jeremy was slipping away, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t hold him back.
Jeremy scooped me up in his arms and rushed toward the car, everything around me felt muffled, as though I was watching life through a fogged window. His steady breath and quick movements contrasted sharply with the chaos in my mind.
"Jeremy," I whispered, my voice barely audible, "I know about her... Liliana. You don't have to pretend anymore."
My words hung in the air, heavy and raw, but he didn’t respond. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I could’ve sworn I saw guilt flicker in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly, I almost thought I imagined it.
The hospital loomed in front of us—cold, sterile, and uninviting.
"Everything’s going to be fine, Camila," Jeremy murmured, though his words seemed to be for his own reassurance rather than mine.
I wanted to scream at him, to tell him I didn’t need his lies. But the pain in my chest, the tightness of my throat, kept me silent.
"Camila Whitehall?" A voice broke through my fog.
I opened my eyes, squinting against the blinding light of the hospital room. There, standing in front of me, was a tall man in a white coat—dark hair, sharp jawline, eyes that were unreadable.
His presence was commanding, yet there was something about him that made my heart race—not in the way Jeremy’s presence used to, but in a way that made me feel both anxious and alive.
"I'm Dr. Adrian Blackwood. I’ll be overseeing your treatment," he said with a cold professionalism, but there was an underlying tension in his voice, something that didn’t fit with the sterile environment of the hospital.
I nodded, my thoughts scattered. His gaze lingered on me a second longer than it should have. Then, as if sensing my discomfort, he shifted his attention to the door, where Jeremy stood, looking as though he had been waiting to jump in at any moment.
"Jeremy, could you step outside for a moment? I need to speak with Miss Whitehall privately."
Jeremy hesitated, but then nodded, his eyes narrowing at Adrian, as if he were sizing him up. As he left, the door clicked shut behind him, and the tension in the room intensified.
"Is everything alright with you, Miss Whitehall?" Adrian asked, his voice softer now, though there was an unmistakable edge to it.
My mind was swirling. I wanted to say something—anything—but I was too exhausted. Instead, I nodded weakly, trying to ignore the unease crawling under my skin. Why was he so interested in me? What did he know?
Adrian didn’t wait for a response. His eyes flicked to the door one last time before he lowered his voice.
"You need to be careful with Jeremy. And especially with Liliana."
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. Was he—?
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. "What do you know?"
Adrian’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes flickered—an acknowledgment of danger. "Things are not as they seem," he continued, his tone grim. "This isn’t just a personal issue for you, Camila. It’s far bigger than that. You’re in the middle of something… dangerous."
I didn’t have time to digest his words before the door opened again. Jeremy stepped inside, his eyes darting between us, his face a mixture of concern and suspicion.
"What’s going on in here?" Jeremy demanded, his gaze settling on Adrian. There was an edge to his voice, and I couldn’t tell if he was angry or just worried.
Adrian didn’t flinch. He stood tall, unbothered. "Just a routine check-up," he said, his voice flat. "She’ll be fine, Jeremy. She needs rest."
"That’s what I’ve been telling you," Jeremy replied, his words tight, barely concealing the annoyance. "I don’t need you to tell me what I already know."
The tension was thick, but Adrian didn’t back down. Instead, he turned to me, his gaze unwavering. "Camila," he said softly, his words almost an afterthought, "keep your eyes open. You don’t know who you can trust."
Before I could respond, Adrian was gone, leaving me with more questions than answers.
"Are you alright?" Jeremy’s voice broke through the haze again, but this time, there was a desperation behind it.
I wanted to say something, but the weight of his words, his avoidance, crushed me. Everything about him felt like a lie now. I couldn’t understand how I had ever thought we were invincible, how I had thought we would be alright.
As I tried to collect my thoughts, my eyes caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye—an envelope, tucked under Jeremy’s arm.
My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the man who had handed it to him—a man I had seen only once before. A man tied to my family’s greatest enemy.
"What’s that?" I asked, my voice sharp. "Who gave you that?"
Jeremy’s gaze hardened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes—something I wasn’t sure I wanted to see.
"Don’t worry about it," Jeremy said quickly, turning his back on me.
But it was too late. My suspicions were already swirling, and I knew this wasn’t just about me anymore. This was something much bigger.
"Jeremy," I said, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and anger, "you’re playing a dangerous game. And I’m not sure I want to be a part of it anymore."
As I watched him walk away, I felt my heart break in ways I never thought possible. And I knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning.
The pieces were starting to fall into place, but the bigger picture was still out of reach. And I was about to uncover something that would change everything.
