The name on Adrian's phone lingered in the air like a curse.
Scarlet Vane.
Anna's pulse raced as she watched him hesitate. His hand hovered above the device, as though answering would shatter the fragile peace between them. The ringtone seemed deafening, filling the silence with sharp urgency.
"Are you going to pick it up?" Anna asked, her voice softer than she intended but lined with ice.
Adrian's jaw tensed. "It's probably about the film—"
"Or about last night," Anna cut in, her chest tightening. "About the little performance you two gave the paparazzi."
His eyes snapped to hers, guilt and frustration warring in his gaze. The phone buzzed one last time before going silent. Neither of them moved.
Finally, Adrian set it face down on the nightstand and exhaled. "Anna, listen to me—Scarlet means nothing. She's just a colleague. The studio has been pushing this narrative for weeks. They think a fake romance will boost box office numbers. That's all it is."
But Anna couldn't shake the image of the headlines. The way Scarlet's hand lingered on his arm in those pictures. The way Adrian's laughter—her laughter—looked so easy beside her.
She forced herself to stand, pulling the silk robe tighter around her body like armor. "Do you have any idea what it feels like, Adrian? To sit here while the world worships a version of you that doesn't exist? To see them write my life out of your story?"
"Anna…" He rose to his feet, his expression softening, his voice thick with pleading. "You are my story."
The words should have soothed her. Once, they would have. But now they felt like a fragile promise whispered into a storm. She turned away, walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. Los Angeles glimmered below, alive and buzzing, but to Anna it felt like a cage of flashing lights and hungry eyes.
"You chose this," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "You chose the secrecy. You chose to hide us."
Adrian crossed the room, standing behind her, his reflection looming over her shoulder in the glass. "I chose to protect you," he said firmly. "From the tabloids. From the gossip. From people like Scarlet, who live off the drama. I didn't want them tearing you apart."
Her throat tightened. Part of her wanted to believe him. But another part—the wounded, aching part—wondered if it was really protection, or convenience.
"Then why does it feel like I'm the one being erased?" she asked, her voice breaking.
Adrian's hands settled on her shoulders, warm and steady. "Because the world doesn't get to know everything. They don't deserve what we have. What we have is ours, Anna. Sacred."
Tears blurred her vision as she met his reflection in the glass. His eyes were sincere, his touch tender, and yet—her heart trembled with doubt.
The shrill buzz of the phone cut through the moment again. Scarlet. Calling back.
Adrian cursed under his breath, stepping away to silence it. But Anna caught the flicker in his eyes—hesitation. Conflict.
"Answer it," she said suddenly.
He froze. "What?"
"Answer it. Put her on speaker. Let me hear what she has to say."
"Anna—"
"Or is there something you don't want me to hear?"
The challenge hung heavy between them. Adrian's lips pressed into a hard line. He turned the phone over, stared at the glowing name for a long second, then finally swiped to accept.
"Scarlet," he said curtly.
"Adrian!" Scarlet's voice spilled through the speaker, bright and sugary, the kind of tone that sounded rehearsed yet dangerously charming. "Oh my God, have you seen the press this morning? We're everywhere. The fans are losing it. Can you believe how good we look together?"
Anna's heart clenched like a fist.
Adrian's eyes flicked to Anna, guilt etched deep across his face. "Scarlet, this isn't funny. You know exactly what you're doing."
Scarlet only laughed, a melodic sound that made Anna's skin crawl. "Relax, darling. It's harmless. The studio loves it, the fans love it, and honestly…we do make quite the pair, don't we?"
Anna's breath caught. She felt her nails dig into her palms.
Adrian's voice hardened. "That's enough. Whatever narrative the studio wants, I don't care. I'm not playing your little game off-camera."
Scarlet chuckled again, but this time her tone carried a sharp edge. "Off-camera or on, Adrian, the world sees what it wants. And right now? They want us. If your…private life gets in the way of that, maybe you should reconsider how private it really is."
The line went dead.
Adrian's shoulders tensed as he tossed the phone onto the couch with a curse. Silence settled heavy around them. Anna's chest ached, each word Scarlet had spoken replaying in her mind like poison.
"She knows," Anna whispered, her voice trembling. "She knows about us."
Adrian shook his head. "She's fishing. She doesn't know anything."
But Anna wasn't so sure.
She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the California sun streaming through the windows. "Adrian…how long before she digs deeper? Before the world does? What then?"
He stepped toward her, desperation in his eyes. "Then we face it together. I promise you, Anna, I won't let anyone—Scarlet, the press, the studio—come between us."
But promises felt fragile in the face of a storm this loud. Anna forced herself to nod, though uncertainty gnawed at her.
Because deep down, she knew one thing for certain—this was only the beginning.