Celeste

He was actually serious about fully evacuating to the west wing.

Within an hour, all my belongings had been transferred by staff who wouldn't meet my eyes. My new room was directly across from Adrian's study, connected by a corridor that felt more like a secure pathway than a hallway. Everything about it felt like protection rather than comfort, a very far cry from my old life. Of course I was beyond being homesick now, and all I could do was try to come to terms with the ridiculous danger and drama that I was constantly surrounded by.

"The windows are reinforced," Ava explained, showing me the new space. "There are also motion sensors in the walls, those give us a direct line to security."

I ran my fingers along the window frame. Even the glass felt different, thicker and impenetrable.

"How long has this been planned?" I asked.

"Since the day you arrived," she admitted. "Adrian had it prepared as a contingency."

A contingency for what, exactly? I wanted to ask, but Ava was already moving toward the door.

"Dinner's been moved to Adrian's private dining room. Eight o'clock. Don't be late."

Adrian's private dining room was nothing like the formal hall we'd eaten in before. It was a lot smaller, warmer, with dark wood paneling and a fireplace that actually had a fire burning in it. The table was set for two, with the chairs positioned close enough that we'd actually be able to have a conversation without shouting across the marble.

He was still waiting in his white dress shirt when I arrived, but with his sleeves rolled up and the top button undone. He looked tired, but alert. Like a man who'd spent the day hunting predators.

"How are you settling in?" he asked as I sat down.

"Like a prisoner in a nicer cell."

He almost smiled. "Fair assessment."

A staff member served the first course, something delicate and French that I barely tasted. The silence stretched between us, but it felt different than before. Less hostile, we were both too shaken up for any of our usual petty quarrels.

We ate in relative quiet, the tension from our previous confrontations still simmering between us. But something had shifted since this morning's revelations. The knowledge that someone was actively targeting me had changed the dynamic.

"I need you to understand something," Adrian said finally, setting down his fork. "The people watching you aren't amateurs. This isn't some random stalker."

"Then what is it?"

He leaned back in his chair, studying me. "Victor Greaves. A man with old money and older grudges. He's been trying to undermine my business for years."

"And now he's what? Using me to get to you?"

"It appears so."

I tried to the information, turning it over in my mind. "But we barely know each other. Why would targeting me be effective?"

Something flickered across his face, it was too quick to read is expression, but not quick enough to miss it completely.

"Because," he said quietly, "apparently it would be."

The admission hung between us like a confession, and the simple honesty of it hit me like a physical blow. This time there was no deflection, no corporate speak, only the raw, unexpected truth. Before I could open my mouth to respond, the lights went out. Emergency lighting kicked in a second later, bathing everything in an eerie red glow as somewhere in the house, an alarm began to wail.

Adrian was on his feet instantly, moving toward a panel I hadn't noticed behind a painting.

"The safe room," he said, fingers flying over a hidden keypad.

"I'm not hiding in a—"

"Celeste." His voice cut through my protest. "Just do what I tell you. This isn't a discussion."

Too many quick footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. These weren't staff members checking on the power outage.

The panel slid open, revealing a steel door, and beyond it, I could see the edge of a small, well-equipped room.

"Get Inside. Now."

I moved toward the opening, but hesitated at the threshold. "What about you?"

"I'll be right behind you."

The study door handle rattled.

Adrian's hand found the small of my back, guiding me through the opening with gentle but insistent pressure. "Go."

I stepped into the safe room just as the study door burst open, through the gap, I saw dark figures pouring through the doorway, they all looked fully armed, with their faces hidden behind masks.

Adrian slammed his palm hard against the control panel. The steel door began to slide shut, but not fast enough. One of the intruders spotted the closing panel and dove toward it, catching the edge of the door just before it sealed completely. The last thing I saw was Adrian reaching for something inside his jacket as the masked figure forced his way into our sanctuary.