EIRA'S POV
One thing was absolutely certain.
Adrian Blake needed professional help.
Preferably the kind that involved a locked room, several qualified psychiatrists, and absolutely no opportunity for him to issue orders.
I sat in the passenger seat of his car, staring through the window as the passing scenery blurred before my eyes. Unfortunately, my mind was far too occupied replaying the past few days to appreciate the view.
And yes, the insufferable control freak had followed through on every threat.
First, he had dragged me out of my hostel.
Then he had practically kidnapped me to his mansion.
Then he had ordered me to spend the night there.
And now, he was personally driving me to college, as though I were some particularly troublesome prisoner who required constant supervision.
Had he ever asked anyone for anything in his life, or had he simply been born believing the entire world existed to obey him?
Why did everything have to be done his way?
I turned toward him, ready to demand an explanation, but the words died before they reached my tongue.
His hands rested steadily on the steering wheel, his attention fixed on the road. Morning light traced the sharp lines of his face, accentuating his severe jaw and infuriatingly composed expression.
He looked completely unbothered.
Of course he did.
Meanwhile, I was one inconvenience away from losing what remained of my sanity.
I turned back to the window and folded my arms.
I hated him.
Or, at the very least, I was making a determined effort to.
I barely noticed the car slowing until the tyres whispered against the pavement and we came to a smooth stop outside the college gates.
Finally.
I reached for the door handle, but Adrian had already stepped out.
And then—
A girl came rushing toward him.
She flung herself into his arms, wrapping around his neck with such enthusiasm that I genuinely wondered whether she intended to suffocate him.
I stopped moving.
Oh.
Of course.
Victoria.
Who else?
She pressed herself against him as though the entire college had vanished and he were the only person left in existence.
My stomach tightened unpleasantly.
Not that I cared.
Obviously.
I had absolutely no reason to care.
And I certainly wasn't going to stand there while Victoria practically climbed him in public.
I slipped out of the car, lowered my head, and began edging away before she noticed me.
One step.
Two.
Three—
My foot caught on nothing whatsoever.
The next instant, the ground rushed toward me.
I landed hard on my hands and knees, pain jolting through my palms.
For one humiliating second, I remained there with my eyes closed.
Wonderful.
At this point, gravity and I were no longer on speaking terms.
The sharp click of heels approached.
Unhurried.
Deliberate.
I knew who it was before I looked up.
Victoria stood over me, her polished shoes inches from my scraped fingers. Her gaze travelled over me with open disdain.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
I pushed myself upright, wincing as my palms scraped against the pavement.
Before I could answer, Adrian's hand closed around her wrist.
My gaze snapped toward him.
For one absurd, treacherous moment, hope stirred in my chest.
Perhaps he was going to tell her to back off.
Perhaps, for once, he would refuse to let someone treat me as though I were beneath them.
"Nothing."
His voice cut through my thoughts.
Cold. Flat. Indifferent.
"She was just trying to get my attention."
The words struck with humiliating precision.
I stared at him.
He released Victoria's wrist, his expression unchanged.
"You know how these girls are."
His gaze briefly met mine.
There was nothing in it. No hesitation. No acknowledgement that I was standing there, humiliated and waiting for him to say something that might make his words less cruel.
"Let's go," he told Victoria. "We're getting late."
Then he turned and walked away.
I couldn't move.
The sounds around me seemed to recede until all I could hear was the echo of his voice.
She was just trying to get my attention.
How easily he had said it.
How convincingly.
Victoria glanced back at me, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across her face.
I lowered my eyes.
My palms stung, but the ache beneath my ribs was worse.
How stupid of me.
For one foolish moment, I had believed there might be something decent buried beneath Adrian Blake's arrogance. Something that explained why he kept stepping between me and danger, why he refused to let me out of his sight.
Apparently, I had mistaken control for concern.
There was no hidden kindness waiting to be discovered.
There was only Adrian Blake.
Cold. Cruel. Impossible to read—and apparently, even easier to misunderstand.
The bell rang.
I scrambled to my feet and hurried toward the building, determined not to give Victoria the satisfaction of seeing me break.
Whatever humiliation Adrian had handed me, I would swallow it before either of them could celebrate it.
✦ ✦ ✦
The rest of the morning passed in fragments.
English.
Chemistry.
Biology.
Lectures blurred together, and every attempt to concentrate ended with the same infuriating conclusion.
Adrian Blake was a phenomenal actor.
Perhaps deception came naturally to him. Perhaps that blank expression was simply another weapon I had been foolish enough to underestimate.
Whatever the truth, I had learned one thing: I couldn't trust what I thought I saw in him.
By lunch, I couldn't find Tessy anywhere.
I checked the cafeteria, the library, and the courtyard before finally spotting her.
My heart sank.
Peter had his arms wrapped around her, his head bent close to hers as he murmured something that made her laugh.
She looked radiant.
Safe.
Completely unaware that the boy holding her was capable of destroying everything she believed about him.
My stomach twisted.
I knew the truth.
She didn't.
"We should go," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. "We'll be late."
Tessy glanced at me before reluctantly pulling away from Peter.
I turned before she could notice my expression.
I couldn't bear to look at them together any longer.
✦ ✦ ✦
By the time we reached the biology lab, my nerves were stretched painfully thin.
Tessy, meanwhile, seemed to exist in an entirely different world. Every few minutes, she'd glance at her phone and smile at a message, her cheeks turning pink.
I wanted to take the phone from her.
I wanted to tell her everything before Peter could twist the truth any further.
Most of all, I wanted to be wrong.
But the video hadn't lied.
And protecting Tessy couldn't mean protecting her from the truth.
The bell rang. Students began gathering their belongings, eager to leave.
Tessy slipped her phone into her bag.
"Tessy," I said. "I need to talk to you."
"Not now!" she laughed. "Peter's waiting for me."
She started toward the door.
Panic seized me.
No. Not this time.
I caught her wrist.
"Tessy."
Something in my voice made her turn. Her smile faded as she took in my trembling fingers and strained expression.
"What happened?"
I swallowed.
"I know this is going to hurt, but you need to see this."
I unlocked my phone and handed it to her.
For a moment, she didn't move.
Then the video began playing.
I watched her face instead of the screen.
Confusion gave way to recognition, then disbelief. The colour drained from her cheeks, and her fingers tightened around my phone.
A tear slipped down her face.
Then another.
My chest ached.
I hated being the one to hurt her, but she deserved the truth—even if she hated me for showing it to her.
"Tessy—"
"Tessy?"
Peter's voice came from the doorway.
She stiffened.
He stepped into the lab, his gaze moving from her tear-streaked face to the phone in her hand.
For the briefest instant, his expression faltered.
Fear.
Then it vanished, replaced by a mask of concern so flawless that anyone who didn't know him might have believed it.
Peter looked at me.
And smiled.
My blood ran cold.
That wasn't the smile of a man caught in a lie.
It was the smile of someone who already knew how the story would end.
"Why did you do this, Eira?" he asked softly.
I stared at him. "What?"
"I know you're jealous." He shook his head, pretending to be disappointed. "You've liked me for a long time. But Tessy is your friend. I never thought you'd go this far."
"What nonsense are you talking about? You're the one in that video!"
"Am I?" he asked quietly.
The question landed with calculated ease.
He wasn't denying what she had seen. He was making her question it.
"Peter, stop," Tessy whispered.
But there was uncertainty in her voice.
He heard it.
"I'm not trying to upset you," he told her gently. "I just don't understand why she'd do this to us."
"To us?" I repeated. "You're the one who betrayed her!"
"Don't believe everything she tells you," he said, turning to Tessy. "Tell me what you saw. Did Eira force you to believe something false?"
Tessy's eyes moved between us.
"Who showed you this video?" Peter demanded.
"Does it matter?" she whispered.
"Yes!" I snapped. "It matters that you look at what he's doing instead of listening to him!"
Peter's expression tightened for a fraction of a second before he turned back to Tessy.
"Yesterday, I went to a party at the club. I was drunk. I didn't do anything wrong."
He pointed at me.
"She was the one who forced herself on me."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
The audacity was breathtaking.
"NO! He's lying!" I cried. "Tessy, please, you have to believe me!"
Peter sighed as though my desperation exhausted him.
"Fine. I'll prove it."
He pulled out his phone and dialled.
"Hi," he said smoothly when the call connected.
A girl's hesitant voice answered. "Hi, Peter."
"Tell me what happened yesterday."
"I'm sorry," she said, sounding close to tears. "I was jealous of Tessy. I knew you loved her so much. Please forgive me. Just give me one more chance."
I stared at the phone.
No.
That wasn't possible.
"Maybe she's not the girl from the video," I stammered. "Maybe it's someone else."
"Would you like to see her?"
Peter switched to FaceTime.
The screen flickered.
The same girl appeared—the exact girl from the recording.
"I'm so sorry, Peter," she repeated. "Please forgive me."
I snatched the phone from his hand.
"Why are you lying?" I demanded. "Tell the truth! Please!"
Her expression hardened.
"Oh, you're the girl who tried to force yourself on him. And then you ran off with Dave, didn't you?"
"What? No! Stop lying!"
Instead of answering, she brought up another video.
This time, it was me at the party.
The footage had been cropped and angled to twist the scene into something unrecognisable. A movement taken out of context looked deliberate. A moment that had meant nothing became an accusation.
The truth had been rearranged until I looked guilty.
"No," I whispered, staring at the screen. "That's not what happened. This is—"
SLAP.
My head snapped to the side.
For a moment, I couldn't comprehend the burning pain across my cheek.
Slowly, I turned back.
Tessy stood in front of me, her hand lowered, her fingers trembling.
Her eyes were wet.
But the expression on her face was one I'd never seen before.
Disgust.
"I can't believe you," she whispered. "I trusted you, Eira. And you did all this just to take Peter away from me?"
"Tessy, no. I would never—"
"Don't!"
She recoiled when I reached for her.
That tiny movement hurt more than the slap.
"Please," I whispered. "You have to believe me."
"After what you've done?" Her voice broke. "Just leave. I never want to see your face again!"
I stood frozen.
I had imagined a hundred ways this conversation might go, but never this—never Tessy looking at me as though I were a stranger she wished she'd never met.
She turned away.
Peter opened his arms, and she collapsed against him.
"I'm sorry I didn't believe you earlier," she whispered.
He held her close, stroking her back.
"It's okay," he murmured. "I might have done the same if I were in your place."
Over her shoulder, his eyes found mine.
His expression remained sympathetic, his hand moving soothingly against her back.
But his mouth curved into the faintest smile.
A private little victory.
A silent declaration that he had won.
I couldn't look away.
He had lied, manipulated her, and turned the truth inside out until I was the one condemned.
And somehow, I was the one who had lost everything.
I turned and walked out of the lab.
The corridor was crowded with students laughing and talking, carrying books and making plans for the afternoon.
The world hadn't changed.
Only mine had.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady the tremor running through them.
I had walked into that lab hoping to save my best friend from a lie.
I'd walked out having lost her.
My vision blurred. I wiped my eyes impatiently and kept walking, determined to reach somewhere quiet before the weight in my chest became unbearable.
Then my knees weakened.
I reached for the wall, but my fingers barely brushed its cool surface before my balance faltered.
And suddenly—
I stopped.
Someone stood a short distance ahead.
Tall.
Impossibly still.
Adrian.
He leaned against the wall, arms folded, his dark gaze fixed on me.
For one disorienting moment, everything else receded.
The slap.
Peter's lies.
Tessy's accusations.
All of it seemed distant beside the unnerving awareness of Adrian watching me.
His expression was unreadable, as always.
But his eyes had changed.
There was a tension in his jaw, a dangerous stillness in his posture. His gaze travelled over my face before settling on my cheek.
The muscle in his jaw tightened.
Barely.
But I saw it.
I straightened instinctively, unwilling to let him see how badly I was struggling.
My legs refused to cooperate.
Adrian pushed away from the wall.
He crossed the distance between us in a few swift strides, catching my arm just as I stumbled. His other hand braced my shoulder, pulling me upright before I could hit the floor.
The sudden contact stole my breath.
His grip was firm, almost painfully so, until he felt me regain my balance. Then his fingers eased, though he didn't release me completely.
"Careful," he said curtly.
I stared at him, unable to answer.
His gaze returned to my cheek.
His jaw tightened again, but when he spoke, his voice was as flat as ever.
"What happened?"
It sounded more like a demand than concern.
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
How could I explain it? How could I tell him that the person I'd tried to protect had turned against me, that Peter had twisted the truth until it looked like a lie, and that I'd watched my best friend choose him over me?
I couldn't find the words.
My gaze dropped to his hand around my arm.
I could feel the steady pressure of his fingers through my sleeve. He stood close enough that I could make out the faint crease between his brows, waiting for an answer I couldn't give him.
For once, I had no strength to argue, no clever retort to throw at his arrogance, no energy left to demand why he insisted on interfering in my life.
I just wanted to get away before he saw me fall apart.
I tried to pull my arm free.
He released me at once.
But he didn't move aside.
"Who did this to you?" he asked.
I swallowed.
"It's none of your business."
His expression hardened.
"Did I ask for your opinion?"
Of course he hadn't.
Adrian Blake didn't ask questions because he wanted permission to hear the answers.
He expected them.
I looked away, my fingers curling into my palms.
"I'm not going to ask again, Eira."
His voice remained quiet.
That was somehow worse.
I could feel his gaze fixed on me, waiting, demanding.
But I couldn't tell him.
Because the moment I spoke Tessy's name, I'd have to admit that the one person I'd tried so desperately to protect was the one who had hurt me most.
And I wasn't ready to say it aloud.