Chapter 3 - The Rules Change at Midnight
Adrian read the note three times.
Then he looked at me.
“You're not going to work today.”
I stared at him.
“I am standing in your office.”
“Then you're staying here.”
“You can't lock me in.”
“I'm not locking you in.”
He moved toward the window.
“I’m increasing security.”
“Because of a note?”
“Because someone knew where you parked.”
That shut me up.
He was right.
The security footage showed a man entering the garage at 2:03 a.m.
His face was hidden.
His vehicle had no plates.
The police were notified, but Adrian did not wait.
By noon, there were two guards outside my apartment.
By one, my landlord called to say someone had asked questions about me.
By three, Adrian had moved my belongings into the guest suite of his penthouse.
I stood in the middle of the room.
“This is excessive.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Emily.”
“I have survived twenty-six years without armed guards.”
“Maybe you were lucky.”
I turned.
“And maybe I don't want my life completely controlled.”
His expression changed.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He stepped closer.
“I know what it's like to have people decide where you can go, who you can trust, and what you're allowed to fear.”
His voice was quieter.
“My father controlled everything.”
I stared.
He had never talked about his father before.
“What happened?”
“He taught me one lesson.”
“Which was?”
“Never be unprepared.”
“And did you listen?”
“Yes.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
He looked tired.
Not physically.
Soul-tired.
I softened.
“Adrian.”
He looked at me.
“I don't need you to rescue me from every possible danger.”
“No.”
“But?”
“I need you to be alive long enough to hate me for trying.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
He smiled.
Then the moment disappeared when his phone rang.
Sofia.
He answered.
“Where are you?”
Pause.
“I'm coming.”
He hung up.
“What happened?”
“My mother was followed.”
My stomach turned.
We drove to Elena's house.
She was sitting calmly in the kitchen drinking tea.
“I've been expecting you.”
Adrian stared.
“Mom.”
She smiled.
“I’m seventy, not helpless.”
“You were followed.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you call me?”
“Because I wanted to see who was following me.”
He closed his eyes.
“Please don't do that again.”
She looked at me.
“Is she staying with you?”
“Yes.”
Elena smiled.
“Good.”
I glanced at Adrian.
“She approves.”
“She approves of everything.”
“Not everything.”
Elena looked toward the hallway.
“Luca.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“What about him?”
“He knows something.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
That night, after we returned to the penthouse, I found him in the kitchen.
He was making coffee.
“You cook?”
“No.”
He pushed the machine.
“Coffee isn't cooking.”
“Fair.”
I sat on the counter.
“Your mother likes me.”
“Yes.”
“She thinks we're real.”
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
His hand stopped.
“What?”
“Do you think we're convincing?”
His eyes met mine.
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“That wasn't what I meant.”
He knew.
The silence became uncomfortable.
Then he said, “We're pretending.”
“Right.”
He looked down.
“That's all this is.”
Something inside me pinched.
“Of course.”
I slid off the counter.
“I'm going to bed.”
“Emily.”
I stopped.
He walked toward me.
“I didn't mean—”
“I know.”
I smiled.
“It's fine.”
It wasn't.
The next day was worse.
We attended a business dinner where Adrian introduced me as his girlfriend.
One of his associates laughed.
“About time.”
I smiled.
Adrian placed a hand on my waist.
The room went quiet.
It was a simple touch.
But it felt like electricity.
He leaned closer.
“Relax.”
“I'm relaxed.”
“You're gripping your glass too hard.”
I looked down.
He was right.
I loosened my hand.
Dinner went smoothly until a woman approached our table.
Tall.
Beautiful.
Perfectly dressed.
She looked at Adrian as though she had known him for years.
“Adrian.”
He stiffened.
“Vanessa.”
I realized immediately.
Ex-girlfriend.
Vanessa smiled at me.
“So this is Emily.”
“Yes.”
“I've heard about you.”
I forced a smile.
“Good things, I hope.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Interesting.”
She leaned toward Adrian.
“You really want to do this?”
He stood.
“Yes.”
She stared.
Then laughed softly.
“You were always a terrible liar.”
She walked away.
I turned to him.
“Friend?”
“No.”
“Ex?”
“Yes.”
“How serious?”
“Not serious enough.”
“Did you love her?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
I looked at him.
He was telling the truth.
For the first time that week, I wondered whether I was the one in danger.
Not from Victor.
Not from the mysterious notes.
From Adrian.
From the way he looked at me when he forgot we were pretending.
After dinner, we returned home.
Rain began falling again.
Adrian stood beside the window.
I joined him.
“Vanessa hates me.”
“She hates that she can't control me.”
“That sounds like a family trait.”
He smiled.
Then his expression changed.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“My father's old business partner is in the city.”
“The man from the warehouse?”
“Yes.”
“Is he the one threatening me?”
“I'm not sure.”
“What is his name?”
“Victor Hale.”
I remembered the note.
“Why does he care about me?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Because you're close to me.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“It isn't.”
He turned toward me.
“Emily, I need you to understand something.”
“What?”
“Nothing about your life before me is connected to this.”
“Then why me?”
He stepped closer.
“I don't know.”
A gunshot cracked somewhere below.
The windows shook.
Adrian grabbed me and pulled me down.
Security flooded the room.
I landed against his chest.
His arms were around me.
My face was inches from his.
For a second, the entire world seemed to disappear.
Then another shot came.
Adrian pulled me behind the wall.
His voice was ice.
“Find whoever fired it.”
The guards rushed out.
I was shaking.
He noticed.
“Look at me.”
I did.
“You're safe.”
“How can you know?”
“Because I won't let anyone touch you.”
“Why?”
He stared at me.
His answer came softly.
“Because I care about you.”
I stopped breathing.
Then he stepped away.
As though he had said too much.
That night, I lay awake.
He had said he cared.
Not loved.
Not yet.
But something in his voice had made my heart believe him.
May you like
And by Sunday morning, the fake relationship no longer felt like an arrangement.
It felt like a promise neither of us knew how to break.
