My blood froze.
I looked at him, really looked, and for the first time I realized how dangerous Adrian truly was. Not because he might be one of them. But because he was too close to unraveling everything I'd fought to bury.
My past. My lies. My mask.
And if he saw what was underneath, I wasn't sure he'd ever let me go.
The photograph in my hands trembled, the frame slick with the sweat from my palms. The two children inside—one boy, one girl—seemed to stare back at me through the years. The girl's wide eyes mirrored mine, but smaller, softer, untouched by the scars life would carve later.
That girl was me.
And the boy beside her, tall, protective, a faint smirk tugging his lips—was Adrian.
A memory long-buried stirred like a ghost clawing through the soil.
"Selena," he said, voice soft now, stripped of the steel he usually carried. "Put it down."
I whipped around, clutching the photograph tighter. "You knew me. You've known me this whole time."
He didn't answer. His silence was the confirmation I dreaded.
"You lied." My voice was jagged, breaking in places I didn't want it to. "From the start, you lied."
His expression hardened, though his eyes burned with something that wasn't anger. "I didn't lie. I withheld."
I barked out a bitter laugh. "That's the same thing."
He took a slow step closer. "No, it isn't. A lie would've destroyed your trust before it had a chance to exist. But this—this gave me time. Time to protect you until you were ready."
"Ready?" My voice rose. "Ready for what? To find out the only man I thought I could maybe—maybe—trust has been watching me like some experiment?"
His jaw tightened, but he didn't retreat. "I wasn't watching you. I was guarding you."
The words sliced deep, too sharp, too intimate. Because they didn't sound like a rehearsed excuse. They sounded like the truth.
And that terrified me more than the lie.
The air between us thickened. My pulse pounded so loud it filled the silence. I wanted to run, to scream, to smash the photograph and every piece of evidence that tied me to him.
But my legs refused to move.
I looked back at the photo, then at him. "Why, Adrian? Why protect me? Why keep me close when you could've walked away years ago?"
He exhaled slowly, raking a hand through his hair. For the first time since I'd met him, he looked… human. Flawed.
"Because I failed you once," he said. "And I swore I wouldn't again."
The ground beneath me seemed to tilt. My chest constricted, panic clawing up my throat. "Failed me? What are you talking about?"
He stepped closer, his voice a whisper meant only for me. "The night everything changed. The night you stopped being a child."
The words hit like a slap. My knees almost buckled. He knew. Somehow, he knew.
I turned away, pressing my palm against the cold glass of the window. "Don't," I whispered. "Don't you dare say it."
"I was there," he said. "Not close enough to stop it, but close enough to hear you scream."
Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. My body shook with rage, shame, grief—all of it clawing up from the pit I'd buried it in.
"You should've saved me," I choked. "You should've been there."
His hand hovered near my shoulder, then dropped. "I know. And I've carried that guilt every damn day since."
For a long moment, the only sound was my ragged breathing and the faint hum of the house around us.
I wanted to hate him. God, I wanted to tear him apart for holding this over me, for daring to dig into wounds I'd stitched shut with my own blood.
But under the fury was something worse—understanding.
Because I saw it in his eyes. The guilt. The burden. The way he looked at me not as prey, not as a conquest, but as someone he'd sworn never to let break again.
And that terrified me more than the Shadow ever could.
I spun around, shoving the photograph back at him. "Keep it. Keep your guilt. I don't want it."
Adrian caught the frame before it fell, his grip tightening around it. "You don't have to want it. But you deserve the truth."
"Truth?" I laughed bitterly, swiping at my tears before they betrayed me. "The truth is poison. And I've survived this long without drinking it."
His gaze softened, but his voice stayed firm. "You've survived. But you haven't lived."
The words lodged in my chest like shrapnel.
I needed to escape. To breathe. I bolted past him, down the hall, into a room I hadn't seen before.
It was an office, walls lined with shelves, papers neatly stacked on a wide desk. But what froze me wasn't the order.
It was the file sitting open on the desk, pages fanned out like a crime scene waiting to be discovered.
My name was stamped across the top in bold letters.
Selena Morgan.
Photographs. Reports. Newspaper clippings. Even the police record of that night—the night Adrian had spoken of.
My entire life catalogued, dissected, exposed.
The air rushed from my lungs. My hands shook as I lifted one page after another. Every scam, every alias, every man I'd conned—it was all there.
He knew everything.
Behind me, Adrian's voice came quiet, almost resigned. "I told you I've been protecting you. That's the proof."
I whirled around, papers fluttering to the floor. "Protecting? This isn't protection—it's surveillance. You've been tracking me like some criminal."
His eyes didn't waver. "Because the Shadow was always going to come back for you. And when he did, I needed to be ready."
My chest heaved. My world tilted.
"Or maybe," I spat, "you're not protecting me at all. Maybe you're just like him."
Adrian's face darkened, a storm breaking behind his eyes. "Don't ever compare me to him."
"Then prove it," I shot back.
The challenge hung in the air, thick as smoke. He stepped closer, each movement slow, deliberate, until his presence pressed against me.
His eyes locked on mine, burning. "You want proof?" His voice dropped, husky, dangerous. "Then let me show you the lengths I'll go to keep him from ever touching you again."
The tension between us snapped taut. Heat and fury collided, pulling me toward him even as every rational part of me screamed to run.
His hand brushed mine, tentative but firm, and my body betrayed me—leaning, trembling, wanting.
I hated myself for it.
But in that moment, I hated him more.
Because Adrian wasn't just breaking my defenses. He was shattering them.
Before either of us could speak again, the house went dark.
The hum of electricity cut out, plunging us into silence.
A second later, the windows lit up with red.
A laser dot. Sliding across the glass.
The Shadow.