12

Chapter 12

Darcy’s POV

Pink had insisted I joined them for breakfast this morning since I was skipping more times than usual. I accepted. At least having more time with my daughter made me share more bond with her. Although recently she preferred sharing her time more with Adrian than me.

In the early hours of morning, the sun filled the breakfast room, spilling through the tall windows, warming the dining table filled with different delicacies.

The scent of coffee, syrup, and butter stuck in the air. I sat at the head of the table sipping my coffee, while I peek as Adrian leaned over to help Pink with her pancakes but every second I acted unconcerned.

It had been three weeks since Adrian came to the mansion. In that short time, I was relieved of so many responsibilities and I figured out a lot of changes had occurred in my daughter which were impossible to ignore.

Pink laughed more now, real laughter that bubbled out of her and filled the rooms. Her eyes no longer looked weighed down with sadness.

She was happy. And it was because of Adrian.

That truth should have eased the doubts pressing inside me. But it didn’t. If anything, those doubts had gotten stronger each passing day and I couldn’t ignore, for the safety of my daughter.

Pink stabbed a piece of pancake with her fork and chewed noisily. This jolted me back to presence,“Daddy, Adrian puts extra syrup. She says it makes them taste better.”

I gave a small smile. “Looks like you agree.”

Pink grinned, the edge of her mouth was stained with syrup. Adrian wipes off the stain as she focuses on her food after.

Then, in a sudden burst of energy, she shoved her chair back and slid off running towards the stairs. “I’m going upstairs to get her Unicorn!”

“Walk,” I told her. "So you don't get hurt."

“Yes, Daddy!” she said, halfway out of the room already.

Her quick footsteps faded into the distance.

Adrian started to rise, brushing her napkin on the table. “I’ll go with her—”

“Stay,” I cut in.

She froze, her eyes got widened, startled by the sharp voice. Never expected it.

Her gray eyes focused on mine, cautious but steady. She sat down slowly into her chair, not eating any more, waiting for what I'd say.

The breakfast room grew quiet, too quiet. Luke, the head of security, stood still at a corner near the door. He's alert to the sudden change in the air.

I put my coffee cup down, fingers tapped lightly on the table thinking of a subtle way to begin. The silence stretched for a while, it was heavy enough to press on the walls.

I had waited for Pink to leave the room, to have a chance to talk to Adrian without my daughter listening. I wasn’t going to waste it because knowing Pink would be down here any minute from now.

“Tell me,” I said finally. “Why did you ever get involved with drugs?”

Adrian’s breath caught, though she tried to mask it. “I didn’t.”

Her answer came too quickly.

“Adrian.” My voice was calm, but sharp. “You went to prison for drug trafficking. That doesn’t happen by mistake.”

Her chin lifted. “I told you already. I never dealt drugs. I was framed.”

I relaxed back in my chair, studying her closely. Every guilty person will want to defend himself, these words are normally spoken by men to get a second chance, spoken by women who swore they were innocent even when the evidence was stacked high against them.

“You expect me to believe that?” I asked.

“I don’t expect anything,” she replied. Her voice trembled slightly but held firm. “But it’s the truth.”

“Then explain,” I said.

She folds her hands tight on the table. She hesitated. As if she was calculating what to say and what not to, then spoke quietly.

Carefully she said, “I woke up one morning, and the police kicked the doors open saying I was a drug dealer.

The bags of drugs were found there in the apartment. I didn’t know how they got there. I didn’t even understand what happened that day. But it didn’t matter. Everything pointed to me. My name on the lease. My fingerprints on the bags. My life is ruined.”

Her eyes lit up, but she didn’t look away from me.

I kept my face cold. “So you’re telling me you had no idea. That you simply woke up one day and—what? The drugs had magically appeared in your bag?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

I gave a humorless laugh. “That’s convenient.”

Her eyes hardened. “ But that's the truth.”

I adjusted forward, elbows on the table. I asked firmly “Then who put the drugs there?”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t answer. She closed her mouth again, it tensed as if she was holding something back.

I didn’t miss it.

“You can’t tell me, or you won’t?” I pressed.

Her shoulders stiffened. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” I snapped. “If you expect me to trust you around my daughter, it matters. If you were framed, then someone did it. Who was it?”

“I said it doesn’t matter,” she repeated, with her sharp voice.

“Thats wrong,” I said coldly. “It matters more than you realize. And the fact that you won’t name them tells me you’re hiding something.”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m not hiding anything. I would never put Pink in danger. Ever.”

My chest tightened at the way she made her words clear and certain. But I couldn’t let myself fall for that.

“Everyone says that,” I replied flatly. “Every criminal I’ve met had a reason. An excuse. A sob story.”

"Does It look like I'm lying to you?" Her gray eyes burned into mine.

I didn’t answer right away. Because the truth was, she didn’t. But I had seen too much in my life to rely on appearances.

Finally, I spoke. “Words don’t prove anything, Adrian. I don't gamble with the one I love most in this world?"

She leaned forward, her hands still firm on the table. “Then investigate me. Go ahead. Dig into my past. Search every corner, every record, every word. All you'll see is that I’m telling the truth.”

Her voice had strength of convinction—strength that made me hesitate for a heartbeat.

But hesitation was dangerous.

“I will,” I said coldly. “I’ll have every detail checked. If I find out you’re lying to me, if I find even one crack in your story—you’ll regret it.”

She didn’t flinch. “Then I have nothing to fear.”

Neither of us moved. Time paused for a second.

The air was heavy between us, tension and words were left unsaid.

My heart beat faster than it should have. I don't like the rhythms.

And then...

“Daddy! Adrian!”

Pink’s voice was heard from the hallway, bright and innocent, breaking the silence in the room.

She ran in holding her unicorn plush, Uni, to her chest. Her face was red after climbing the stairs too fast.

“Look!” she said, climbing on Adrian’s lap.

Adrian’s arms went around her automatically, holding her close. Her face softened as she kissed Pink’s hair and smiled, though her hands still trembled slightly from our conversation.

I stood, lifting my empty cup. “I’ll be heading to the office.”

Adrian looked up at me. Her expression was unreadable, something I couldn’t place.

But she said nothing.

I left the breakfast room, the sound of Pink’s laughter following me down the hallway. Each note of her giggle twisted inside my chest.

Because even now, I didn’t know.

Was Adrian telling me the truth? Or was I letting myself fall into a trap?

I left for the office. In the car my phone was already in my hand. I dialed Mark.

“I need you to dig deeper into Adrian Martinez,” I said as soon as he answered.

“Sir, we already—”

“Not enough,” I cut him off. “I want police reports, trial records, everything. And I want to know if this story about her being framed holds up. No excuses.”

There was a pause. “Understood.”

“Good.” I hung up.

As I held the car wheels tight, my knuckles whitened. Many thoughts about Adrian raced in my head as I drove down to the office.

She could be telling the truth. She could be innocent or she could be lying to me and pulling my daughter into something dangerous.

Either way, I would find out.

And when I did… I wasn’t sure what choice I’d make.

Because somewhere in the middle of all this suspicion, attraction had tangled itself into the mix. The way she bit her lips at the dining table a few minutes ago stuck in my head. I wanted to explore these desires. And that was the most dangerous thing of all.