Chapter 7

Elena POV

I woke up to knocking sounds on my bedroom door and for a second I forgot where I was, thought maybe I was back in my old flat, but then I remembered and everything came crashing back.

"Elena." Adrian's voice came through the door. "Get dressed and come out."

I sat up and rubbed my eyes, my whole body aching from lying awake all night thinking about the crying sound I'd heard. "Why?" I asked him.

"Just do it."

His footsteps walked away and I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on jeans and a jumper, tried to make my hair look decent even though I felt like death. When I opened my door, Adrian was standing in the hallway outside Sophia's room with a key in his hand.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Opening it." He put the key in the lock. "You wanted to see what's inside so I'm showing you."

"But last night you said—"

"Last night was last night and this morning my sister is coming over to give you something Sophia left and I'd rather you see the room first." He turned the key and I heard the lock click. "So come here."

I walked over slowly because this felt wrong, felt like a trap, but he just stood there waiting.

"Whatever you see in here," he said, "remember that Sophia made her own choices."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

He pushed the door open without answering.

The room looked frozen in time and it made my skin crawl. Blue walls, white furniture, windows looking out over the city. Clothes still hanging in the closet like she was planning to wear them tomorrow. Books lined up on the shelf, romance novels with worn spines. Makeup arranged neatly on the vanity.

"It's like a shrine," I said.

"I couldn't get rid of anything." Adrian's voice was flat. "After she died, I locked the door and left it."

"For two years?"

"Yes."

I stepped inside and the room smelled like perfume, something sweet and floral, and there were photos on the walls of her smiling and in every single one she looked exactly like me. Same face, same eyes, same everything.

"She was beautiful," I said.

"Yes."

"Did you love her?"

"No."

The answer came so fast it made me flinch. "Not even a little?"

"I cared about her but I didn't love her, not the way she wanted." Adrian stayed in the doorway like he couldn't make himself come inside. "She knew that."

"But she hoped you'd change." I told him.

"Yes."

I looked at the bed and saw an envelope sitting on the blue comforter, white and new-looking like someone had just put it there. "What's that?"

"The letter Charlotte found yesterday." Adrian's jaw tightened. "I haven't read it."

"Why not?" I asked him.

"Because I don't need to."

I picked up the envelope and turned it over, saw writing on the front in neat careful handwriting. "To whoever he traps next."

My stomach dropped. "She knew you'd do this again."

"Apparently." Adrain replied nonchalantly.

"And you're going to let me read it?"

"Charlotte's coming in an hour to give it to you anyway so you might as well read it now." He crossed his arms. "But Sophia was depressed when she wrote it, she wasn't thinking clearly."

"Or maybe she was thinking more clearly than ever." I retorted.

He didn't respond.

I opened the envelope with shaking hands and pulled out two pages of that same neat handwriting and started reading.

"If you're reading this, it means Adrian found someone else to sign his contract and it means you look like me because he won't be able to help himself. He'll pick someone with my face because he thinks he can fix what happened if he tries again with a different version of the same girl.

He can't.

I'm writing this because I want whoever comes after me to know the truth. Adrian Blackwell is incapable of love. Not because he's damaged or afraid. He's incapable of it because he doesn't want to love anyone. He's chosen business and money and control over every human connection and he'll choose those things over you too.

If you're reading this, run. Leave. Break the contract and deal with the consequences because I promise they're better than staying.

He destroyed me slowly over two years, made me invisible in my own home, looked through me like I was furniture, and when I tried to tell him I was hurting he said I signed a contract and I knew what I was getting into. Maybe I did. But I didn't know it would break me.

If you won't run, if you're staying because you need the money or have nowhere else to go or think you can change him, then at least protect yourself. Destroy him before he destroys you. Everything you need is in the diary."

The letter ended with her signature and I stood there staring at it because this girl had been so desperate she'd written instructions for her replacement before killing herself.

"What does it say?" Adrian asked.

I folded the letter back up because I couldn't look at those words anymore. "She told me to run, said you'd destroy me the same way you destroyed her, and if I wouldn't run then I should destroy you first."

His face didn't change. "And are you going to run?"

"I don't know." I looked around at all her things frozen in place. "She mentioned a diary and said everything I need to know is in it."

"There's no diary." He said to me.

"She said there was."

"Then she was confused because I've been through this room and there's no diary." He answered back.

I looked at the nightstand next to the bed and saw a small leather-bound book sitting there with no title. I walked over and picked it up and Adrian made a noise like he was going to stop me but I opened it anyway.

The first page had Sophia's name and a date from three years ago and the pages were filled with her handwriting, paragraphs of tiny neat words.

"This is her diary," I said.

"That's not—" Adrian stopped. "I thought that was a work journal."

"It's her diary." I flipped through and saw they were all dated, all personal entries about her life and thoughts. I turned to the last entry and my blood went cold when I saw the date.

The day before she died.

"What does it say?" Adrian's voice was tight.

I read the words and my hands started shaking because this changed everything. "She was pregnant."

Adrian went completely still. "What?"

"She was pregnant." I held up the diary so he could see. "It says it right here."

"That's not possible."

"It's written in her handwriting, Adrian, it's right here in her diary."

"She never told me." He said, voice filled with shock.

"Maybe she was going to that night." I looked back at the entry. "This is from the day before she died."

"Let me see that." He held out his hand.

I walked over and gave him the diary and he read it himself, his face going pale.

"Read it out loud," I said. "I want to hear you say it."

His voice came out rough. "I'm pregnant. Twins. His twins. If this doesn't make him love me, nothing will. And if nothing will, then I'll make sure he never forgets me.”