Chapter 7: More Truths
His smirk sharpens when the words “Watch me try” leave my lips. It’s reckless. Defiant. Dangerous. But I mean it.
Adrian doesn’t move his hand from the door. He cages me there, his breath brushing the side of my face, heat radiating from his body. His eyes gleam like a predator’s, dark and knowing.
“Try,” he murmurs, voice low, lethal. “But don’t mistake will for strength. You’ll run yourself into walls you can’t break.”
“I’d rather bleed than stay here with you.”
Something flickers in his expression. Not hurt—never that—but interest, like my words are fuel to whatever game he’s playing. Slowly, deliberately, he lifts his hand from the door.
I lunge for the handle, yank it open, but before I can step through, he grabs my wrist. Not rough—never rough, which makes it worse. His restraint is intentional. Calculated.
“You keep running,” he says softly, “but you never make it far. Do you know why?”
“Because you’re a monster.”
He leans close enough that his whisper grazes the shell of my ear. “Because I know you better than you know yourself.”
I wrench free, spin to face him, my chest heaving. “You don’t know me. You know nothing about me.”
His smile is slow, merciless. “Then let me educate you.”
Before I can react, he strides to the desk against the wall. His hand sweeps across it, gathering a fresh stack of papers I hadn’t noticed before. With a flick of his wrist, he scatters them at my feet.
The sheets land like fallen feathers—except heavier. Ink bleeding truth I don’t want.
“What’s this?” I demand, though my voice trembles.
“More truths. Your inheritance,” Adrian says coldly. “Not money. Not property. The truth your father left behind.”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t want this.”
“Want has nothing to do with it. Look.”
I don’t move. He stoops, picks up one of the sheets, and shoves it into my hands. His finger stabs a line on the page. “Read.”
My eyes skim the words—more numbers, transactions, signatures—and my stomach twists. “What is this?”
“Fifty thousand,” Adrian says evenly. “Transferred straight into a casino’s account. That’s your father’s signature at the bottom.”
I drop the paper like it burns. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” He crouches, gathers another page, thrusts it toward me. “This one’s from six months earlier. Same signature. Another debt. Different casinos. Tell me, Samora, how many dinners did your father say he was working late?”
My knees threaten to buckle. “Stop.”
But he doesn’t. He snatches another sheet, lays it flat on the desk, and slams his palm against it. “Families starved because of him. Retirements evaporated. And you—” his eyes cut into me, “—you lived in silk sheets, oblivious.”
I stagger back, my throat raw. “You twist everything. You make him into something he wasn’t.”
Adrian rises slowly, towering over me, every line of his body taut with control. “I don’t twist. I reveal. And truth is sharper than any blade.”
Tears blur my vision, but anger scorches through the grief. “He loved me. He kept us safe. He is an honorable man. I can't believe this.”
“Honorable?” His laugh is sharp, humorless. “He gambled away futures. He traded honor for greed. And when the debts came knocking—” he steps closer, voice dropping, “—I paid them.”
My breath stutters. “No. No, you—”
“Yes.” His eyes blaze. “I saved the empire he couldn’t hold. I kept the wolves from your door. Without me, you wouldn’t be standing here. You’d be drowning in the ruins he left behind.”
I want to scream. I want to claw at him until he bleeds. Instead, my hands curl into fists so tight my nails slice skin.
“You didn’t save me,” I whisper, voice breaking. “You caged me.”
His lips twitch into something that isn’t quite a smile. “Safety is a cage when you crave danger. And you—” his gaze rakes over me, piercing, “—you crave it more than you admit.”
“I’ll never let you control me.”
“You already do.” He circles me slowly, predator smooth, his words striking like arrows. “Every breath you take under this roof is mine. Every step—mine. The clothes you wear, the food you eat—mine. Even your rage right now? Fueled by the truths I’ve given you. Face it, Samora. I own every part of you.”
My throat tightens until air barely scrapes through. The walls close in, pressing, crushing. His presence suffocates.
“Thank me,” he whispers suddenly, leaning down, his lips brushing the air by my ear. “Thank me for saving you from your father’s ruin.”
Something inside me snaps. I shove him hard, my palms slamming his chest. For a fraction of a second, he actually staggers.
“I will never thank you,” I spit, trembling.
For the first time, something cracks in his expression. Annoyance. Or maybe—something else. Something human. But it vanishes before I can name it.
“You’ll learn,” he says simply.
I stumble backward, my vision swimming with hot tears. My voice comes out hoarse, but steady. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
He tilts his head, studying me, almost amused. “Then show me.”
I turn, yank the door open, and storm out. His voice follows me, soft, venomous.
“Run if you want. Cry if you must. But remember this—truth doesn’t change just because you can’t face it.”
The door slams behind me.
---
I collapse on my bed upstairs, the papers still burned into my vision. His words coil around me like chains I can’t rip off.
“He took everything,” I whisper into the pillow, voice shaking. “Everything. And now even the truth.”
The tears come hard, shaking me until my body aches. Rage and grief battle inside me until I can’t tell which is worse.
I want to hate my father for what he did. For the lies. For the weakness. But every memory of his laughter claws at me, begging me not to.
And Adrian—Adrian, who ripped away the illusion, not with compassion but cruelty. Who stands where my father fell, claiming control.
Hatred for both of them burns through me until I can hardly breathe.
But beneath the chaos, something colder forms. A seed. Hard. Unyielding.
I may be trapped in this mansion. I may be nothing but Adrian’s pawn right now.
But I will not let him break me.
I wipe my tears with trembling hands. My voice is raw, but steady. “I’ll outplay you, Adrian. You won’t see me coming.”
The door creaks. My heart jolts.
I whirl around—and freeze.
Adrian stands in the doorway, watching me, unreadable.