Chapter 11

The mansion loomed before me, an imposing fortress of glass and steel. Even from the outside, it reeked of money—obnoxious, in-your-face wealth. Typical of Adrian. The man never needed to say a word; his riches did the talking for him.

I stood there, arms crossed, staring at the sheer size of the place. It was far bigger than I had expected, swallowing up the surrounding landscape like a beast. My jaw clenched. This was a mistake.

The sharp slam of a car door snapped me from my thoughts. Adrian. His presence alone was enough to make my teeth grind. He approached, his pace unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. I refused to acknowledge him, keeping my eyes fixed ahead.

He was so fucking annoying. If I could strangle him and get away with it, I would.

Unfortunately, that was just a fantasy.

“You coming?” His voice was flat, indifferent, like he couldn’t care less whether I followed or not.

I didn’t answer. I already knew this arrangement would do me more harm than good. But there was no escape, no way to turn back. Sooner or later, I had to step inside that house.

Adrian didn’t wait for me. He simply strode up the marble steps and disappeared through the grand entrance, leaving me standing alone in the growing evening chill.

I let out a quiet curse, grumbling under my breath as I finally forced my feet forward. The moment I crossed the threshold, my irritation wavered for just a second.

The interior was breathtaking.

High ceilings stretched above me, adorned with intricate chandeliers that bathed the hall in golden light. The floors gleamed like polished mirrors, reflecting the grandeur around them. Everything was pristine, as if dust itself feared to settle here. Every inch of the mansion screamed luxury—controlled, calculated, perfect.

Adrian didn’t even glance my way as he continued deeper into the house. “May will show you to your room,” he said, his tone dismissive.

I shrugged. Like I cared. My gaze wandered, taking in the extravagant details, even as my gut twisted with unease.

A soft voice pulled me back. “Sir, may I show you to your room?”

I turned to find a middle-aged woman standing nearby. She was of average height, her posture elegant and poised, her features sharp yet kind.

I hesitated before nodding. “Sure.” Then, for reasons I couldn’t explain, I added in a quieter voice, “Matthew.”

She raised an eyebrow.

I quickly cleared my throat. “Please, just call me Matthew.”

A small, knowing smile touched her lips before she nodded. “Very well. This way.”

We moved in silence, ascending the grand staircase. Each step felt heavier than the last. My mind buzzed with thoughts, most of them unwanted.

When we reached the door, she pulled out a key card and held it out to me. “Here’s your room key.”

I pocketed it. “Thanks.”

My gaze flickered down the long hallway. It was eerily quiet, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.

Something made me ask, “Where’s Adrian’s room?”

The question had left my lips before I even knew why I cared. Maybe I just wanted to know how close—or far—he was from me.

“Downstairs,” May replied smoothly.

I frowned. “Why?”

Men like Adrian—rich, powerful, untouchable—always claimed the highest rooms, the ones with the best views. That was just how it worked.

“Personal reasons, I suppose,” she said with a small bow. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I nodded, watching as she disappeared down the hall.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling creeping into my chest, I swiped the key card and pushed the door open.

The room was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched along one side, revealing a breathtaking view of the estate. The bed was so huge it could swallow me whole, and the furniture was sleek and modern.

But the best part?

Adrian was nowhere near me.

At least he did one thing right.

I exhaled, tossing my bag onto the bed before collapsing onto the mattress. For a brief moment, I let my body sink into the soft sheets, allowing exhaustion to creep in.

Maybe—just maybe—this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.

Then my phone buzzed.

I pulled it out, and immediately, my stomach twisted. Dozens of unread messages. Missed calls. All from my friends.

I didn’t have the energy to sift through them one by one, so I went straight to the group chat.

Me: We pull up tonight at our special place. I’ll explain everything.

Less than five seconds later, the chat exploded.

Jordan: And here comes our long-lost ghost.

Noah: Fuck, man. Where the hell have you been? You got us all worried and shit.

Kyle: He’s been too busy drooling over Adrian’s ass to think about us.

My eyes twitched. The weight of their messages pressed down on me, stirring a storm I wasn’t ready to face.

Me: Adrian’s ass, my foot. I’d rather die than do that shit.

The moment I hit send, my fingers hovered over the screen, tense. I knew they wouldn’t let this slide.

Noah: So you’re really not going to tell us what’s going on?

Jordan: He just discovered how sweet an asshole can be.

I clenched my jaw, the veins in my neck tightening. These assholes were testing me. Poking at a wound that still bled beneath my skin.

Me: Fuck you, Jordan. And you, Kyle.

Noah, the only one with common sense, cut in before the tension boiled over.

Noah: Guys, chill. Matthew seems a little off. Maybe instead of teasing, we should actually talk to him.

A sigh left my lips as I rubbed my temple. Noah always knew. Even when I didn’t say a damn thing, he picked up on the shifts, the cracks forming under the weight of everything I refused to say.

Jordan: He’s a dick for ghosting us after everything we did.

I exhaled heavily, staring at the words. He wasn’t wrong.

After that night, I had cut them off completely. Not because I wanted to. But because I was ashamed.

And I still was.

The mess I tried to fix had turned into my own downfall, and the bitter taste of regret had been sitting on my tongue ever since. How the hell was I supposed to explain that to them with a straight face?

Would they even understand?

Would they even want to?

Me: Can we just meet tonight? I promise I’ll tell you everything.

Kyle: Whatever.

Short. Dismissive. He was pissed. I could tell.

And I needed to fix this.

I had already lost too much—I wasn’t about to lose my friends too. Not over this.

Not over him.

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I rose to my feet and dragged myself to the bathroom. The moment I turned the faucet, icy water poured over my skin, shocking my nerves awake.

A sharp inhale. A slow exhale.

The cold was grounding. It kept the fire in my chest from consuming me whole.

This was a new chapter of my life. One I’d never get used to.

One I never wanted.

But it wasn’t like I had a choice.