Chapter 5

Adriana's POV

The phone felt like ice in my hands. I stared at the photo, at the way Zayn's fingers gripped my thighs, at the angle of my neck, the space between our mouths that looked like barely restrained hunger. Whoever took this had been close. Too close.

"Let me see that." Zayn took the phone from me, his jaw tightening as he read the message. His thumb scrolled, checking the number, looking for any identifying information. Nothing. Just digits and that damning photo.

"This is exactly what I was afraid of," I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself. The oversized t-shirt suddenly felt too thin, too exposing. "Someone's watching us. Someone knows this is fake."

"Or someone thinks they know." Zayn set the phone down carefully, like it might explode. "Could be Alicia. Could be one of Enzo's friends. Hell, could be my father's security team. He has them everywhere during these events."

I crossed to the window, needing distance, needing air. The estate sprawled below, all manicured perfection hiding messy secrets. Just like everyone here. Just like me. "What happens when Enzo finds out? He'll think I'm playing some sick game, using his brother to make him jealous."

"Aren't you?" The question was quiet but it landed like a slap.

I spun around. "Excuse me?"

Zayn leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, watching me with those unnervingly perceptive gray eyes. "I'm not judging, Adriana. I'm asking. Because I need to know what I'm dealing with here. Are you using me to get back at him? To make him regret what he did? Because if that's the play, I need to adjust my strategy."

"Strategy," I repeated, tasting the word like poison. "Is that all this is to you? A strategy?"

"You didn't answer my question."

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unsaid things. Outside, I could hear the distant sound of music from the main house, laughter carrying on the night breeze. The wedding festivities continuing without us, everyone playing their assigned roles in this elaborate theater.

"I don't know," I admitted finally, the honesty burning my throat. "When Connor first suggested this, yeah, part of me wanted Enzo to see me with someone else. Someone who chose me without conditions. But now it's all tangled up and I can't separate what's real from what's performance."

Zayn pushed off the dresser, closing the distance between us in three strides. "Then let me make it simple. Forget the photo. Forget whoever's threatening to expose us. Forget Enzo for five seconds and tell me this." He lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "When I kiss you, what do you feel?"

My breath caught. The memory of earlier, of his mouth on mine in the car, rushed back with visceral clarity. The heat, the hunger, the way my body had responded before my brain could catch up. "I feel confused."

His laugh was low, almost bitter. "That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have." I stepped back, putting necessary space between us. "You want honesty? Fine. When you kiss me, I forget everything. I forget that you're his brother, that this is supposed to be fake, that I swore I'd never let anyone have that kind of power over me again. I forget all the very good reasons why this is a terrible idea."

"And that scares you."

"Terrifies me," I corrected. "Because the last time I let myself feel something this intense, it destroyed me. Enzo destroyed me. And you're his brother, Zayn. How am I supposed to trust that you won't do the same? That this isn't just some elaborate revenge plot where I'm collateral damage?"

The words hung between us, raw and ugly and true. Zayn's expression shifted, something like pain flickering across his features before he masked it. "You think I'd use you like that?"

"I don't know what to think. You show up offering this convenient arrangement right when I need it most. You admit you have issues with your family, with Enzo specifically. The whole situation screams ulterior motives."

"You're right." His admission surprised me. "I do have ulterior motives. Multiple, actually. But hurting you isn't one of them."

"Then what are they?"

He moved to the window, staring out at the estate with something like longing and loathing mixed together. "I want my father to see that I built something without him. That I don't need his approval or his money or his legacy. I want Enzo to understand that he's not the only Castellano who matters." He turned back to me. "And yeah, maybe I wanted to mess with their perfect wedding weekend. Petty? Absolutely. But it's honest."

"And what about me? Where do I fit into your revenge fantasy?"

"You're not part of it." He said it simply, like stating a fact. "You're the unexpected variable that's making me question the whole damn equation."

My phone buzzed again. We both looked at it like a live grenade.

Another message. Another photo. This one from inside the estate, Zayn's hand on my lower back as we walked up the stairs, his head bent close to mine. The intimacy of the moment was undeniable.

"Tick tock," the message read. "Tell him the truth or I will."

"Enough." Zayn grabbed the phone and typed rapidly. "Who is this? What do you want?"

The three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. Finally, a response.

"Meet me in the rose garden. Midnight. Come alone, Adriana. Or everyone knows everything."

I checked the time. Eleven forty-five. Fifteen minutes.

"You're not going alone," Zayn said immediately.

"I don't think I have a choice."

"There's always a choice." He was already moving, checking the hallway outside my room. "I'll go with you, stay out of sight. If this person is dangerous, if they try anything..."

"What? You'll swoop in and save me? This isn't some action movie, Zayn."

"No, it's worse. It's my family's world, and trust me, they play dirty." He grabbed his jacket from the chair where he'd thrown it earlier. "The rose garden has multiple entrances. I can position myself where I'll hear everything but they won't see me. You go in through the main path, I'll come in from the side."

I wanted to argue, to prove I could handle this myself. But the truth was, I was scared. Not just of whoever was blackmailing us, but of what would happen when the truth came out. Because it would come out. Secrets always did in places like this.

"Fine," I agreed, changing quickly into jeans and a dark sweater. "But if this goes sideways, if Enzo finds out..."

"Let me worry about my brother." Zayn held the door open. "You just focus on finding out who's playing photographer."

We slipped out of the room separately, taking different routes to avoid suspicion. The estate was quiet now, most guests either asleep or still partying in the main ballroom. I kept to the shadows, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The rose garden loomed ahead, all twisted vines and hidden corners. Somewhere in there was someone who knew our secret. Someone who held our carefully constructed lie in their hands and could shatter it with a single word.

I checked my phone. Midnight exactly.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the garden gate.

And came face to face with the last person I expected to see standing there among the roses, phone in hand, a sad smile on her perfectly painted lips.