Chapter 6

The Room of Lies

POV: Adrian Knight

The drive back to the estate was silent, but the tension was electric. Benita was vibrating with a mix of fury and fear. She had handled Elena better than I expected, but the sight of Vanessa on the security feed was clearly eating her alive.

The moment we stepped into the foyer, I didn't wait for the butler to take our coats. I grabbed Benita’s hand and headed straight for the stairs.

"Adrian, wait—"

"Quiet," I commanded.

We reached the primary suite. The door was closed, exactly as we had left it. I signaled for Benita to stay behind me. I turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Vanessa was standing by my nightstand, her back to us. She was holding a small, black notebook—Benita’s personal journal. She was flipping through the pages with a smug grin on her face.

"Find anything interesting, Vanessa?" I asked, my voice dropping to a low, lethal growl.

Vanessa jumped, the notebook slipping from her fingers and hitting the carpet with a dull thud. She turned around, her face pale, but she quickly recovered, her expression shifting into one of fake innocence.

"Adrian! I was just... I was looking for a charger. I thought since we’re family now—"

"Family doesn't break into private suites with master keys," Benita said, stepping out from behind me. Her voice was shaking, but her eyes were lethal. She walked over and picked up her journal, clutching it to her chest. "Get out."

"Oh, please, Benita," Vanessa scoffed, crossing her arms. "I’m doing you a favor. I saw the way you two were acting at breakfast. It’s a joke. You’re sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. You haven't even touched each other's things."

She looked at me, a desperate, hungry look in her eyes. "Adrian, you don't have to do this. My father and Alexander—they have other plans. You don't need her."

I walked toward Vanessa. I stopped when I was towering over her, my shadow swallowing her whole. I saw the moment her bravado broke.

"You are in my house, Vanessa," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "And you have touched my wife’s belongings. If I ever see you in this wing again, I won't call your father. I’ll call security and have you removed for trespassing. Do you think Alexander will protect your 'reputation' then?"

"You wouldn't," she gasped.

"Try me."

Vanessa scrambled past us, her heels clicking frantically on the marble hallway as she fled.

The room fell silent. Benita stood by the bed, her shoulders trembling. She looked small against the backdrop of the massive, cold room.

"She’s going to tell them," Benita whispered. "She knows we’re faking it."

"She knows nothing," I said, walking toward her. I took the journal from her hands and set it on the nightstand. Then, I took both of her hands in mine.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her breath hitching.

"Finishing the performance," I said. "Vanessa isn't gone. She’s standing right outside that door, listening at the keyhole. And the cameras are still rolling."

I reached out and pulled her closer, my hands sliding to the small of her back. She gasped, her hands coming up to rest on my chest. I could feel her heart hammering—a wild, frantic rhythm.

"Adrian..."

"Trust me," I whispered.

I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers.

It was supposed to be a stunt. A calculated move to silence a spy. But the moment my mouth met hers, the world tilted. She was soft, warm, and tasted like the wine from lunch. For a second, Benita was still, frozen in shock. Then, she exhaled, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as she kissed me back.

It wasn't a "contract" kiss. It was a collision.

When I finally pulled away, we were both breathless. I looked at the door. I heard the faint scuff of a heel—Vanessa retreating.

"She’s gone," I whispered, my forehead resting against Benita’s.

Benita looked up at me, her eyes clouded and dark. "Was that... part of the show?"

I looked at her—really looked at her—and realized that the "Cold Heart" I had spent years building was finally, irrevocably cracked.

"The show is over for the night, Benita," I said, my voice husky. "But the war is just beginning."