Part 120
Her words didn't echo — they lingered.
Like smoke that refused to fade.
"If you think I'll let them take you again… you don't know me at all."
Adrian didn't move.
He couldn't.
The look in her eyes was something beyond anger. It was betrayal wrapped in devotion, grief sharpened into obsession.
He had seen her upset before — quiet sadness, trembling fear — but never this.
This was the woman the tabloids had never met.
The one who watched him from shadows long before she ever spoke to him.
Her fingers brushed her hair back, calm and deliberate, though her breathing was uneven.
"You've been lying to me again," she said softly. "After everything I've done to keep you safe."
He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to stay even.
"Alex… you don't have to protect me anymore. I don't need that."
Her expression flickered. The smallest twitch of pain — and then it vanished.
"You think I'm the one hurting you?" she asked. "No, Adrian. It's them. The people who used you, the world that left you broken. I saved you from them."
He shook his head slowly.
"You didn't save me. You just built another cage."
Her jaw clenched.
For a second, the mask slipped — the warmth in her eyes replaced by something raw and frightened.
Then she smiled again, that same careful, fragile smile that always made him uneasy.
"You're tired. You don't know what you're saying."
She turned, walked toward the kitchen, her voice steady.
"I'll make breakfast. We'll talk after you've eaten."
The sound of her footsteps faded down the hall, and Adrian finally let himself breathe.
He sank back onto the couch, running a hand through his hair, his heart pounding so violently it hurt.
She knew.
She knew.
And yet, she wasn't screaming or breaking things — she was planning.
That terrified him more than anything.
He needed to act fast — before she decided what to do with him.
But every window had locks. Every door had a code.
His only chance might be when she left the room again.
He glanced toward the small tablet still charging on the table, the same one he'd used before.
Maybe he could send one more message.
A final clue before she took everything away again.