21

Chapter 21

Adrian’s Pov

The grocery bags were heavy in my arms as I walked up to the side entrance of the mansion. I was done with the groceries shopping for the new month.

The time was sharp ten-thirty, the same time I had come the past two afternoons. I had learned Darcy’s schedule well.

He always left around nine-thirty for his meetings and didn’t come home until dinner. It gave me a perfect window to arrive, bearing in mind that I would do my duty fast and head to my room without seeing him.

It worked.

Pink and I had enjoyed two peaceful days with no dark stares across the kitchen, no silence thick with unspoken things, no memory of that kiss chasing me through the halls. Just quiet afternoons filled with cartoons, homework, and cookies.

I should have felt guilty for planning around his absence, but mostly I felt proud. Proud of my control. Proud that I hadn’t let myself slip again. I was saving money, watching Pink, staying professional, building something steady until I could move out and stand on my own.

Today would be like other days of careful avoidance.

The kitchen would be empty, waiting for me to unpack groceries and then make chicken parmesan. Pink loved it, especially when you add an extra cheese. We could bake afterward too—she’d been asking for cookies all week.

Simple things. Normal things. Things that didn’t involve thinking about lips, or hands, or the way Darcy had said my name that night…

No. I shut the thought down hard.

I pushed through the door, already picturing the meal. Chicken, pasta, salad…

And froze.

Darcy was there.

He leaned on the counter like he had been waiting for me to come in, his ankles were crossed, a coffee cup in his hand. Looks like he just brewed his coffee.

His suit jacket was gone, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing strong forearms I had no business noticing. But I noticed anyway. His sharp eyes locked on me, steady.

My heart, banging against my chest. The bags I was carrying suddenly felt heavy to hold.

“Adrian.” His voice was smooth, but with an edge beneath. “Right on time.”

I couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in the city, locked in a boardroom, not standing here like he had planned it.

“I…I didn’t know you were still at ho.. home,” I stammered.

One eyebrow lifted, amusement beams briefly in his eyes. “Clearly.”

The silence between us thickened, pressing down on me. I wanted to bolt. Instead, I stood there like prey caught in a spotlight.

Then his words cut straight through me. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

The question I’d dreaded.

I had rehearsed answers. Calm explanations about schedules and focus and professionalism.

When he locked his eyes with mine, I forgot the words I practised.

“I wasn't avoiding you Mr Darcy,” I finally said, in a low tone. A weak smile on my lips. “I’ve just been giving you space.”

A lie. A flimsy, transparent lie.

Darcy’s jaw flexed as his fingers curled around his cup. “Space,” he repeated flatly. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Yes.” walked past him to the counter, eager to do something to get my hands busy. I unpacked the groceries I got from the shopping mall. I put the vegetables in the basket, chicken into the fridge, keeping busy so he’d think I didn’t have time to talk.

“You’ve been busy with work, I’ve been focused on Pink. Just… parallel schedules.”

I heard how thin it sounded. And from the silence behind me, I knew he heard it too.

“Adrian.”

I didn't turn to his direction, I kept my back to him, removing and rearranging spices that were well kept. “Hmm?”

“Look at me.”

Not a request. A command.

A shiver ran through me. Despite my mind saying I should leave the kitchen, I didn’t listen turned to look at him just like he commanded. When his eyes locked on mine, it pulled me back like the gravity I had tried so hard to avoid.

“You’ve been avoiding me. Why?,” he said slowly. “You’ve changed your routine. You move Pink around the house when I come near. Yesterday you literally hid in the library.”

Heat rushed to my face. He had noticed everything. My clever little strategies hadn’t been clever at all.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I said weakly. “Pink wanted to read, so—”

“Don’t.” His voice sliced through mine. “Don’t lie. You’re not good at it.”

The words stung. Worse, they were true. I had never been good at hiding my feelings. That was how Martin had broken me so easily. I thought prison had taught me to guard myself. But standing here with Darcy, I was like an open book. Transparent.

“Fine.” I lifted my chin, gathering the little courage which I didn’t feel. “Maybe I have been avoiding you. So what? After what happened, I thought distance was best.”

“Better for who?”

“For both of us!” The words burst out of me, sharper than intended. “You’re my employer. That kiss was a mistake. A moment of weakness. It can’t happen again.”

Something flickered in his eyes—dangerous, dark. “A mistake.”

“Yes. A mistake.” I clung to the word like a shield. “We got caught up in circumstances—the bathroom, the injury, the closeness. It was a storm that won’t happen again.”

“You really believe that?” He set his cup down, gaze never wavering. “Was it the circumstances? Nothing to do with the attraction that’s been between us since the day we met?”

“There is no attraction,” I lied, although the sound of my voice was not convincing.

“No?” He moved away from the counter, moving closer, and my heart jumped. “Then why is your heart racing now? Why are your hands shaking? Why do you look ready to run?”

“Because you’re asking me so many questions. This is supposed to be my workplace not...,” I shot back, eager to regain my stand. “Because it's inappropriate. Because…”

“Because you’re scared Adrian,” he cut in, softer now but no less intense. “You’re afraid of your feelings. That’s why you ran that night.”

I swallowed hard. He was right. And he knew it.

“I have every right to be scared,” I said, my anger draining into something rawer. “Love ruined me once. Trusting someone destroyed me. I lost everything, my freedom, my dignity…” My voice broke. I couldn’t say my baby. The wound was too fresh. “Everything. So yes, I’ve been running away, avoiding you. Because I can’t afford to make that mistake again.”

The confession was heavy and unguarded in the air.

Darcy’s voice softened. “I’m not him. Whoever hurt you, whoever convinced you that caring is a mistake—I’m not him.”

“I know you’re not him,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t change the fact you hold all the power here. My job. My housing. My parole. You could take it all away with one call. How am I supposed to trust that?”

His expression darkened. "Who's him?“he asked, "You think I’d use your parole against you?”

“I don’t know!” My voice rose, in frustration. “I don’t know what you’d do, because I barely know you. What I do know is that kissing my boss is the fastest way to destroy me and what I aim for in my life. I won’t do it. I can’t.”

I turned back to the groceries, my hands working furiously to hide the trembling.

“So that’s it?” His voice came closer. Too close. “You’ll just keep avoiding me? Pretending nothing’s there?”

“Yes,” I whispered, though the word didn’t seem like it was true. “For Pink’s sake. For mine. For...”

I didn't know when he walked closer to where I was. So close I felt his breath on my neck.

“And what if I don’t let you, huh?” his voice, low and dangerous.

The pasta box was still in my hands. Every nerve in my body lit with awareness. I should step away. I should shove past him, draw a line. But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

He advanced, each step erasing the little space I had left. My back hit the counter. Trapped. No escape, no bathroom door to dart through. And the kitchen door was wide open—anyone could walk in and see us in an awkward position which I didn't want.

“Darcy, please…” I tried, but the words came out soft, closer to plea than protest.

His presence covered me. His scent, his warmth, the glows in his eyes.

My body always betrayed me, leaning into him when my mind yells, telling me to resist.

“You should run,” he said quietly, his voice was rough and filled with control. “If you’re going to keep pretending that nothing happened, you should run now.”

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

His hand lifted slowly, giving me every chance to move. But I stayed frozen, helpless, as his fingers shifted a strand of hair from my face.

The gentle touch made my chest ache.

“Last chance,” he whispered. “Tell me to stop, Adrian. Tell me you don’t want this.”

I opened my mouth. The words were right there—stop, I don’t want this. But I couldn't say a word.

By the time I noticed how close he was, my eyes closed instantly leaning in for his kiss.

What If he's flirting? Maybe he just want intimacy because a boss like mine wouldn't fall for a girl like me, I thought with my eyes closed.

Then I heard footsteps...