The air in Adrian's car still carried the echo of the courtroom, thick with whispers and headlines waiting to be written. Elena sat in the back seat, her hands clenched so tightly that her knuckles were bone white. The glass of the tinted windows showed flashes of reporters swarming outside, their cameras pressing like hungry mouths against the metal beast that shielded her.
Adrian sat beside her, jaw locked, scrolling through his phone. His legal team sent updates every second, but he barely looked up. Elena felt the silence between them heavier than any gavel's strike.
"Thank you… for today," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Adrian's eyes flicked to her. "You don't need to thank me."
"But you stood up for me. No one has ever—"
"Elena." His voice carried that CEO sharpness that could cut glass. "I didn't stand up for you because of gratitude or duty. I did it because it was the right thing. Victoria is not going to ruin you while I stand here."
The way he said ruin you made her chest tighten. As though he saw her fragility, the parts of her she tried to hide. She turned her face away to the window, blinking fast before her tears betrayed her.
---
The Mansion's Cold Eyes
By the time they reached the Sterling mansion, the staff lined the grand hall like silent statues. Whispers fluttered like invisible daggers—her name, her reputation, her shame. Elena kept her eyes down as she followed Adrian up the staircase, but every footstep echoed with humiliation.
"Do you think she really—?"
"Of course. Why else would he—"
"She's just a maid."
Each mutter pierced deeper than the last. Elena clenched her fists, but she didn't dare stop, didn't dare answer. Adrian, however, paused on the stairs. His head turned sharply, his eyes landing on the small group of maids and footmen who had whispered too loud.
The silence that fell afterward was deadly. Adrian's gaze was enough to strip them of their courage. Without saying a word, he continued up the stairs, but Elena knew: his silence was more terrifying than any threat.
---
The Knife of the Media
Hours later, Elena found herself curled on her narrow bed in the servants' quarters, scrolling through her cheap phone. She shouldn't look, she knew she shouldn't, but the articles were everywhere.
"Sterling CEO Defends Maid in Court: Scandalous Romance or Corporate Strategy?"
"From Maid's Uniform to Billionaire's Arm Candy—Who Is Elena Rivera?"
"Exclusive: Rivera Family Drowning in Debt, Sources Say."
Her breath hitched. Debt? How—?
Scrolling further, her heart dropped. A local gossip site had published details only someone from her small neighborhood could have known: her father's failed business, her mother's hospital bills, her younger brother's unpaid tuition.
"No…" she whispered, tears blurring the screen. "No, no, no…"
The phone slipped from her hands. How could Victoria possibly know? Unless—
Her chest twisted. Someone close to her had spoken. Someone she trusted.
---
Adrian's Study
"Elena."
She startled at the sound of Adrian's voice. He leaned against the doorframe of her small room, far too big for the cramped space. His suit jacket was gone, his tie loosened, but even then, he radiated power.
"You shouldn't read that garbage," he said, eyes flicking to her phone on the floor.
Her throat burned. "It's not garbage if it's true."
He stepped closer. "Truth doesn't matter when it's twisted into a weapon. They'll use anything to tear you down, Elena. You have to stop giving them the knife."
She stood, trembling. "You don't understand. It's not just about me. My family—"
"Then let me help them," he cut in.
Her eyes widened. "No! I don't need your charity."
Adrian's expression hardened, but his voice dropped to something softer, dangerous in its gentleness. "This isn't charity. It's me not standing by while someone I—while someone under my roof is destroyed."
For a moment, Elena swore he was about to say something else. Something heavier, something impossible.
But he turned, his hand resting on the doorframe as though the weight of unspoken words pressed him down. "Meet me in the garden tonight. We need to talk."
---
Garden Confessions
The garden was bathed in silver moonlight, the roses perfumed with sweetness that clashed against the bitterness in her chest. Elena stood among them, clutching her shawl tight, waiting.
When Adrian arrived, the world seemed to narrow around him. He didn't belong in moonlight and roses—he was steel and skyscrapers, glass and power. And yet, he looked at her as though she was the only thing holding him here.
"Why do you keep protecting me?" she asked, her voice cracking.
His eyes softened, though his posture remained unyielding. "Because I can't stop myself."
The air froze between them. Elena's heart thundered, her breath shallow. He stepped closer, the distance shrinking.
"You're not like them," Adrian murmured. "You don't see me as a name, or money, or power. You see me as…" His words trailed, but his eyes said the rest.
Elena's lips parted, her pulse racing. If he leaned just an inch closer—
A rustle at the garden's edge shattered the fragile moment. Both turned sharply. Shadows moved near the gates. Elena's stomach dropped. The metallic click of a camera echoed in the night.
Reporters.
Adrian's arm shot out, pulling her against him, shielding her from the flashing lens. The sudden intimacy of his chest against hers, his scent wrapping around her—it should have felt like safety. Instead, it was terror.
"Elena Rivera!" a voice called from beyond the hedge. "How long have you been Sterling's secret lover?"
Her blood ran cold.
To be continued....
[Cliffhanger]
Adrian's body stiffened, fury blazing in his eyes. But Elena's world spun with one horrifying realization:
Someone hadn't just leaked her past.
They had leaked her present.
And this time, no courtroom or press statement could erase the image of her, in Adrian's arms, caught under the moonlight.