THE CHRISTMAS WE DIVORCED.

Lies Between Shadows

Sophia's POV

Do you even know what you have done to me? Standing in the midst of Adrian's poorly lit study, my voice was harsh and shook. Chilling me to the bone, the frigid breeze from the broken window raced across the room. But it was him, not simply the cold. He saw me as both his downfall and his atonement, as though.

"Sophia," he began in a low, dangerously calm voice. "I have done all I could to prolong your life. If for one moment you let them—"

"You have done everything to hide your secrets!" I cut him off with a snap. "You never gave the expense any thought, Adrian. nor regarding me, nor regarding us. You only give control top priority, and right now it's disintegrating."

He moved in closer, his huge form swallowing me completely in shadow. "You don't know what's at risk."

"Then make me understand!" My chest ached as I battled tears, my wrath a flimsy cover over the terror poised to swallow me. "You say you care, but all you've done is draw me into something I never wanted and push me away. Are you even aware of my current loathing of you?"

The words came out before I could stop them, and as they fell I saw the flutter of suffering over his face. It vanished quickly, then the frigid, unreadable look he always wore to attempt to ignore me.

"I can handle your hate," he murmured softly. "Losing you is not something I can handle."

The rawness in his speech shocked me into silence. My wrath faltered, then an uncertainty that seemed like it was separating me from the inside took the front stage. How could one person simultaneously experience love, hate, fear, and longing—all of which define me?

My voice quieter now, shaking with the weight of all I couldn't say, "I don't want your protection, Adrian." "I am looking for the truth."

He fixed me for a long time, the strain between us thick enough to cut with a knife. And at last he spoke.

"You're the only thing keeping me from falling apart, Sophia," he continued, his voice cracking in a manner I'd never heard before. "But the truth? The truth can wipe you out.

The room went quiet, the only sound coming from far away from the city outside. Though something in his gaze stopped me, I wanted to yell and demand responses. He seemed ghostly. As though the facts he held weighed too much for him to handle.

"Adrian," I replied, treading carefully forward. " Whatever it is, I can manage it. But I can't keep doing this—not when I feel like I'm fighting a struggle I neither even comprehend."

He hesitated, his eyes darting to the broken glass as though he were looking for a getaway. Not for one of us, though, was there any escape.

At last, his voice just above a whisper, "They're after you because of me." "Based on what you mean to me. And since they believe you are the key to bring me down."

I stopped, my head whirling to put together his mysterious words. "The secret is Even now, what does that mean? I am just Adrian, an architect. I have nothing they may possibly desire.

"It's not about what you have," he continued, his voice gloomy. " It's about what you are."

"What am I?" I kept repeating, my tummy turning over with discomfort. You're not making any sense, Adrian.

The sound of heavy footfall came from the corridor before he could reply. Our muscles stiffened with the unsaid knowledge that something was quite, very wrong, we both glanced toward the entrance.

First Adrian moved, his hand moving for the revolver holstered at his side. He waved for me to back off, but I disregarded him; my senses told me whatever was approaching I had to be ready.

The door sprung open, and two masked men tore into the space. Adrian did not hesitate; his gun was up, his motions deliberate and exact as he fired a warning shot that sank into the wall next to the invaders.

"Get out," he said, his voice harsher than I had ever heard. " This is your only chance."

The invaders answered with nothing. Rather, one of them drew out a sleek, black cylinder with a flashing red light.

"Adrian," I murmured with a quivering voice. "What is that?" asked.

"Go," he said, never turning away from the invaders. Get to the room designated for panic attacks. Present now.

"I'm not going to leave you!" I retorted, my anxiety giving place to defiance. Not this time.

Pressing a button on the gadget, the intruder transformed the flashing light into a consistent, sinister glow. Adrian's face clouded, and he fired another shot, one grazing the figure's arm and sending the gadget clattering to the floor.

"Run!" he yelled, his voice full of desperation that chilled my spine.

I paused just long enough to turn and dash toward the wall's secret door. As I struggled with the keyboard, my hands shook so severely I could hardly input the number Adrian had drilled into me earlier. My heart was hammered.

I heard behind me the noises of a struggle—fists meeting, shouts of pain, then the clear thud of someone hitting the floor. Turning barely in time, I watched Adrian struggle with one of the invaders using quick and aggressive motions. The second person, though, was closing in; their weapon pointed straight at him.

"Alex!" I cried, my voice faltering with terror.

He looked at me momentarily and at that instant the second invader moved. But they turned their weapon on me instead of Adrian.

As I watched the rifle barrel, the slight glitter of the trigger being pushed appeared to pause time. Then everything went dark and the air cracked deafeningly.

My head hammering and my eyesight distorted, I woke to the sound of sirens far away. The room was in disarray; the furniture tipped over and gunshot holes pierced the walls. Adrian vanished from view, and the air smelled faintly metallic like blood.

Then I noticed it: a solitary, ripped piece of paper with a message that made me shiver: "You have until midnight."

My breath stopped as I fixed on the ripped piece of paper, the words blurring in my eyes. Your window is till midnight. The weight of the message was smothering and persistent like a tangible force crushed down on me. My hands shook as I grabbed for it; the paper's edges were faintly bloodstained.

Adrian! I cried out, my voice breaking under terror. The quiet that followed was intolerable. Still, the most shocking thing of all was his absence—the room was destroyed, trash all around.

Walking steps. Weighty, deliberate, and way too near. My pulse surged as my head turned toward the noise and a shadow passed just outside the shattered door. I staggered back, as though the paper were a lifeline.

The man entered the room, mask shining in the low light hiding their face. They laughed quietly, the sound freezing me right down.

"Looks like we’ve got her all to ourselves now," the man remarked, their voice warped yet tinged with cruel entertainment. "Poor Adrian," says , "Always seeing he might be the hero."

"Where is he?" I insisted, my voice trembling but rebellious. "What did you treat him to?"

The man leaned their head, as though giving my question some thought. "Oh, don't fret. He still resides. temporarily for now. But the clock is running and midnight is rapidly approaching sweetie. You might wish to start considering the distance you are ready to travel to save him."

My chest started to swell with rage, briefly overriding the anxiety. "If you believe I should let you hurt him"—

The man said, "You don't have a choice," with a contemptuous tone. "This is not based on your preferences. This is about our needs. Also you? You are only the negotiation chip.

I retreated once again, my head whirling for a path out, for anything that may provide a margin. Trying to keep my voice calm, I spat, "You won't get away with this."

The man laughed, the sound resonating like a menacing song off the walls. Still, we already have."

A second person behind me put a palm over my lips, their grasp like iron before I could respond. Panic filling my veins as they pulled me toward the door, I struggled against them.

The last thing I noticed on the floor was a crumpled piece of paper; the words You have till midnight seared in my head. The room vanished abruptly, replaced by the stifling darkness of the future.

As they drove me into a waiting automobile, the frigid night air pierced my skin and the tires screamed as we shot out into the darkness. My heart hammered, dread and questions whirled through my head. Adrian, where was he? What did they want with me?

And most frightening of all—what was scheduled for midnight?