Her eyes remained fixed on the corner of the room.
That shadow—
She had seen it.
She was sure of it.
Her breathing was still uneven when something else caught her attention.
A faint scent.
Sharp.
Familiar.
Cigarette.
Her gaze slowly shifted toward the large window.
The curtains swayed slightly, though the balcony door was closed.
Her brows furrowed.
Step by step, she walked closer.
Carefully.
As if afraid something might jump out at her again.
And then—
She saw it.
A small, half-burnt cigarette butt resting on the wide window sill.
Her eyes widened.
Her heart skipped.
"This…"
Her fingers trembled as she reached for it.
"This is proof…"
She picked it up slowly, examining it closely.
It was real.
Not something her imagination could create.
A small sense of relief washed over her.
Finally—
Something to prove she wasn't losing her mind.
"Here… this proves it," she whispered to herself, clutching it tightly.
Without wasting another second, she turned and rushed toward the door.
She had to show Alex.
No—
She had to show him.
The door swung open quickly—
And before she could react—
She crashed into something solid.
A gasp escaped her lips.
Her body tilted forward—
But strong arms wrapped around her waist instantly, pulling her back.
Holding her.
Firm.
Secure.
Her breath hitched.
Her eyes slowly lifted—
Meeting his.
Adrian.
Standing right in front of her.
Too close.
His hand still resting on her waist.
Not moving.
Not loosening.
His lips curved slightly into a smirk.
"Why the hurry?"
His voice was low.
Calm.
Dangerously composed.
Her heart started racing again—but for a different reason this time.
She quickly straightened herself, trying to create some distance.
But his hand didn't allow it fully.
Still holding her.
Still grounding her in place.
"I… actually…"
Her voice came out soft, almost unsteady.
"I saw someone last night in my room."
His expression didn't change.
"I told Mr. Alex, but he didn't believe me. He said it was a nightmare…"
She swallowed hard before lifting her hand.
"But now… I have proof."
Adrian raised an eyebrow slowly, his gaze shifting to her hand.
"Yeah?"
His tone carried a hint of amusement.
"And what proof do you have?"
Her fingers opened shakily.
Revealing the cigarette butt resting on her palm.
For a brief second—
Silence.
Then—
His smirk deepened.
"Very nice proof you have," he murmured, his voice dropping lower.
Something about the way he said it—
It wasn't mocking.
But it wasn't surprised either.
Her brows knitted together in confusion.
This wasn't the reaction she expected.
Not at all.
"You don't… find it strange?" she asked hesitantly.
"That someone was in my room?"
His gaze returned to her face.
Dark.
Unreadable.
Slowly—
He leaned closer.
Too close.
His breath brushed against her ear as he whispered,
"And what if…"
A pause.
Just enough to make her heart stop.
"…that someone wasn't a stranger?"
Her breath caught.
Her fingers tightened around the cigarette butt.
"What… do you mean?" she whispered.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his grip on her waist tightened just slightly.
Possessive.
Controlled.
His lips curved again.
But this time—
It wasn't just a smirk.
It was something darker.
Something more dangerous.
"Tell me…" he murmured, his voice almost a whisper against her skin,
"If someone entered your room…"
His eyes locked onto hers.
Intense.
Piercing.
"…why do you think you're still untouched?"