Chapter 18

Brianna’s POV

For someone who made a big deal about our wedding night, Adrian wasn’t going to sleep at home tonight. Not that I cared or was expecting him—I wasn’t.

Rather than ponder about the reasons why he would choose to be absent this night, I’m stuck in the room—our room— thinking about Emily and my father.

I didn’t know why I had this feeling of dread as I paced the room, the insides of my cheeks were raw and blistered from chewing the insides. I knew something was very wrong.

First of all, I couldn’t reach Emily, father wasn’t picking up. In fact no one was picking up their phones.

Adrian had left about two hours ago and with the way he left I knew I wasn’t paranoid for no reason.

He suddenly got a call mid conversation. I was still bothered about everything and he reassured me that all was fine. Until he got the call and his expression changed quicker than a flash of lightening. His face hardened as he read off something on his phone.

One word. “I’ll be right there.” And then he left. Not before kissing my forehead and asking me not to wait up. He had said he had ‘business to handle.’

I really wanted to hope the business wasn’t my sister that he practically had dragged away or my father who wasn’t picking up his phone.

I confirmed that I wasn’t exactly paranoid when I followed silently after him, my steps silent and stealth.

“Make sure you probe her for information. Anything she might know.” I heard him speak to the other person on the phone.

A sickening chill ran down my spine as I listened from the dark shrouded corner behind him.

“Don’t do anything without permission. I’ll be right there but first I need to visit their father,” Adrian snarled. “I’m sure he has received my message by now.”

I could already picture the look on his face as she bellowed over the phone. My body shook with little tremors. I want to hope that he wasn’t referring to Emily or my father and that I was just being paranoid.

But deep down, I knew I wasn’t.

I could only hope now. Hope that Emily was okay and father was okay too.

As he left, I heard him instruct someone to make sure that I don’t leave. There goes my chance at tailing him.

Once I’ve confirmed he was out of the house, I finally stood, leaving the corner. I walked back to my room with resignation.

I wasn’t sure I’d be getting a wink of sleep. I can’t believe I’m saying this but the house felt empty and lonely without his presence. And for a man I’d only known for short of three days, that sounds just as stupid as it felt.

Taking down my wedding dress and veil, I changed into a more comfortable cloth. A simple shirt I found in the wardrobe and a pair of loose shorts.

I’d hope to be spared, I wasn’t a lingerie girl asks we weren’t in the lingerie stage yet. If allowed, I’d very much prefer to be in separate rooms but with Adrian’s extremely possessive personality, that was unlikely.

Falling back in the bed, I gazed at the ceiling of the room. The difference between my old one and this one was jarring.

The room was brightly lit and now that I looked closely, it looked like t was designed in a more feminine way.

“Was this room always like this?”

I stood, glancing around the room. I was just taking a proper look around the room for the first time since last night.

It hadn’t registered before, everything had been a blur. but now, standing in the middle of the master bedroom, I could see it clearly.

The space was… feminine. Not in an overdone way, but intentional. Soft tones, delicate accents, the kind of details a man would have definitely missed.

The curtains, the vanity setup, even the faint scent lingering in the air—it all felt curated. New even. Too new for a house that had supposedly been lived in.

In the bathroom, there were even feminine products, specific ones that matched or were similar to the ones I’d usually use.

A slow warmth crept up my chest at the thought. Was this… for me? Had Adrian done all of this to make me feel comfortable?

I swallowed, unsure what to do with that realization.

My gaze drifted toward the door, my thoughts shifting just as quickly. He had left early, without a word, without a trace. Why?

I exhaled quietly, my fingers brushing against the smooth edge of the dresser.

Was the man I had come to know really the same one that was written into gossip blogs and columns? The same one trailed by rumors and hearsay as something colder, darker?

Or had I only been seeing what he allowed me to see?

Could I truly believe that I had a chance here at being happy or do I continue to live as I did back at the Stewart mansion—with no expectations or demands?

I guess time will tell.