Adrian caught up with us, slightly out of breath. "Emma, listen to me. Whatever they say to you, whatever they offer you, don't accept anything. Don't agree to anything. Just be polite, say thank you for the scholarship, and leave."
"Why? What are they going to do?"
"They're going to try to own you," he said grimly. "Just like they own everyone else."
We entered the administration building, and I could feel my heart pounding. This was it. I was about to meet the men who'd killed my father. Who'd killed Sarah. Who'd destroyed Kai's family.
The men Adrian claimed he was trying to stop.
The men who might have sent their own son to manipulate me.
Dean Phillips was in the lobby, looking nervous and obsequious as he spoke with two men who could only be Adrian's family. The resemblance was unmistakable.
Marcus Blake was like an older, harder version of Adrian same dark hair, same sharp features, but with cold eyes that assessed everything like a predator. He wore a suit that probably cost more than my car, and he radiated power and cruelty in equal measure.
And next to him was clearly their father Maxwell Blake. Older, silver-haired, distinguished in that old-money way that came from generations of privilege.
But his eyes were the same ice-blue as Adrian's, and they held the same intelligence. The difference was that where Adrian's eyes held warmth, Maxwell's held nothing but calculation.
"Adrian!" Maxwell's voice boomed across the lobby. "There you are. We've been trying to reach you all morning."
"I was busy, Father." Adrian's entire demeanor had changed. He stood straighter, his expression carefully blank, his voice cool and formal. This was Adrian Blake, heir to an empire. Not the vulnerable man who'd just been sitting on my bed.
Maxwell's gaze slid to me, and I felt like I was being x-rayed. Analyzed. Assessed for value or threat.
"And who is this lovely young woman?"
"Emma Chen," I said, extending my hand before Adrian could answer. "I'm Adrian's partner for Professor Morrison's literature seminar."
Maxwell took my hand, his grip firm but not crushing. His skin was cold. "Emma Chen. The scholarship recipient. Yes, I've heard about you. Brilliant academic record, tragic family history. You're exactly the kind of student we love to support."
"Thank you for the scholarship, Mr. Blake. It's changed my life."
"Has it?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm glad to hear it. We believe in investing in exceptional young people. Tell me, Emma, what do you plan to do with your degree?"
It was a test. Everything about this conversation was a test.
"I want to be a journalist," I lied, the words coming easily. "Investigative journalism. Uncovering truth, exposing corruption."
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Marcus's eyes narrowed. Adrian went rigid beside me.
But Maxwell just smiled wider. "How noble. And brave. Investigative journalism can be quite dangerous, you know. Asking the wrong questions, digging into the wrong places. People who do that sometimes find themselves in… unfortunate situations."
It wasn't even a subtle threat. He was telling me, right here in public, that I was in danger.
"My father was a journalist," I continued, watching his face carefully. "James Kim. He died when I was young. Car accident. Hit and run. They never found who did it."
Maxwell's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Recognition? Concern? Guilt?
"How tragic," he said smoothly. "The world lost a good man, I'm sure."
"Did you know him?" I pressed. "He wrote primarily about corporate corruption, financial crimes. The kind of investigative journalism that made powerful people uncomfortable."
"Emma" Adrian started, but his father cut him off with a raised hand.
"I meet many people, Miss Chen. I couldn't possibly remember them all." Maxwell's smile was ice. "But I admire your determination to follow in his footsteps. Just be careful that you don't meet the same fate. Accidents happen so easily, especially to those who don't watch where they're going."
The threat was clear now. Back off, or end up like James. Like Sarah.
"I'll be careful," I said sweetly. "I'm very good at watching where I'm going. And I never travel alone. I always have people who know where I am, what I'm doing, who I'm meeting."
It was my turn to send a message: Touch me, and people will notice.
Maxwell studied me for a long moment, then laughed a cold sound that held no humor. "I like you, Miss Chen. You have spirit. Adrian, you've chosen an interesting partner. I hope you'll both join us for dinner this weekend. I'd love to get to know the young woman who's captured my son's attention."
"That's not necessary," Adrian said quickly.
"I insist. Saturday evening. Our estate. Seven o'clock." Maxwell handed me a business card heavy stock, embossed lettering. "Bring your appetite. We have so much to discuss."
It wasn't an invitation. It was a command.
After they left, taking their aura of menace with them, I stood in the lobby shaking.
Adrian grabbed my arm, pulling me into an empty conference room. "What the hell was that? Why would you provoke them like that?"
"Provoke them? They killed my father!" The words burst out before I could stop them.
Adrian's face went white. "What?"
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I'd said too much.
"Emma, what are you talking about? Your father David Chen he's alive, isn't he?"
"David is my stepfather. He adopted me when I was two. My biological father was James Kim." I watched his face carefully. "The journalist who died in a hit and run twenty-three years ago. Three days after he submitted an article exposing Blake Enterprises for money laundering."
Adrian stepped back, like I'd physically struck him. "No. No, that's not"
"True? Are you sure about that, Adrian?
Because from where I'm standing, your family has a pretty clear pattern of making people disappear." I pulled out my phone, scrolling to a photo of James Kim I'd saved from the SD card. "Look at him. Look at my eyes. My face. Tell me you don't see the resemblance."