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Chapter 8

Auteur: Nimilaska
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-10-05 04:43:24

Adrian's Pov

“Keep your head up.”

That’s what Soren said right before we stepped out of the car and into a sea of flashing lights.

The noise hit me first, shutters clicking, voices shouting my name, questions flying like bullets. I froze for half a second before his hand brushed against mine. It wasn’t a touch, not really, just a small, grounding reminder that I wasn’t walking into this alone.

Except… I was.

Because this was Soren Knight’s world, not mine. The marble steps, the cameras, the expensive suits, it all belonged to him. I was just the headline that wouldn’t go away.

He walked ahead, straight-backed and calm, his face carved from stone. I followed half a step behind, doing my best to look like I belonged beside him.

We reached the podium. A dozen microphones waited, red lights blinking like warning signs. The room fell into a heavy silence.

Soren adjusted his tie, then leaned forward. “Good afternoon,” he began, his voice smooth and cold, every syllable controlled. “I know
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    Adrian’s POVI didn’t think I’d ever get used to living in Soren’s world. Everything about it felt like a performance, perfect suits, cold smiles, and conversations that meant the opposite of what they sounded like.But over the past few weeks, I had learned how to move through it. Maybe not gracefully, but enough to survive. Enough to stand beside Soren without flinching when someone whispered about our “arrangement.”I knew it still bothered him. Every time we showed up at an event together, his jaw would tighten just a little. He’d pretend not to notice the stares, the sly smiles, the pity. But I could feel the tension in him—how much he hated the loss of control.

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    Adrian’s POVThe car ride to the Knight Enterprises building felt endless. The city moved outside the window like a blur, neon signs, honking cars, people staring down at their phones, all pretending not to care about the chaos I was living through.I sat in the back seat, hands clenched together, my phone buzzing nonstop beside me. Every few seconds, another notification appeared, headlines, messages, gossip. All of it about me. About us.It didn’t matter how many times I told myself it wasn’t my fault. The world had already made up its mind.The video had gone viral. The comments were worse. Everyone thought I’d used Soren for money or power, that I’d trapped him somehow. Some e

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    Soren’s POVThe morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, soft and golden, brushing against my face. For a few seconds, I forgot everything, the chaos, the press, the endless arguments. There was only quiet. Only warmth.Then I realized I wasn’t alone.Adrian’s arm was draped across my waist, his breathing slow and steady against my shoulder. His scent lingered faintly, something clean and warm, like rain and cedarwood. The memories of last night drifted back: the rain, the silence, his apology, my own walls finally cracking a little.It wasn’t perfect, but it was real.I turned slightly to look at him. He looked different when he slept, calm, almost peaceful. It was strange to see him like that, stripped of the tension that usually sat behind his eyes.For a moment, I let myself think maybe this could work. That maybe we could start over.Then my phone buzzed.I reached for it carefully, trying not to wake him. The screen flashed with a message from Clara.We have a problem. Ur

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    Adrian’s POVThe fire in the study had burned low, leaving only faint orange light across the walls. I sat behind my desk, untouched papers scattered in front of me. My mind wasn’t on them. It hadn’t been for days.I’d heard Soren come in earlier. The sound of the door opening. His hesitant steps. Then silence. Every minute that passed since then had felt longer than an hour.I’d left the note because I didn’t know what else to do. Talking to him had become harder lately, like we were speaking in two different languages. I wanted to fix things, but I didn’t know where to start.The door creaked softly.When I looked up, Soren stood there. His hair was damp, his coat still wet from the rain. His eyes were red, not from tears maybe, but from exhaustion. He looked at me for a long moment before saying quietly, “You’re still awake.”“So are you.” I gestured toward the chair across from me. “Sit.”He hesitated before walking over. The air between us felt heavy, like even breathing might br

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