Chapter 3 — The Broken Rule
1382 Words
Aliyah woke up to the smell of citrus and something faintly smoky-like cedar burning miles away. For a moment, she didn’t open her eyes. She simply lay there, letting the unfamiliar hush of the apartment settle around her like a fragile layer of snow.
Then it hit her. This wasn’t her bedroom.
Her eyes snapped open.
She was in a spacious guest room, wrapped in a soft charcoal-gray comforter, sunlight spilling through sheer curtains and warming her face. The walls were painted in a cool eggshell white, decorated with a few abstract paintings in shades of black and gold.
Everything was elegant, and quiet. Too quiet which made it strange.
Her pulse fluttered.
What happened? The last she could recall was the parking lot, the man holding a knife, and Adrian…
She pushed herself up, wincing when her wrist twinged from the bruise she hadn’t noticed last night. Her throat tightened.
And then she heard footsteps.
Soft, controlled, like whoever was approaching didn’t want to be heard, but knew exactly how to make an entrance.
Her breath caught when the door opened.
Adrian stood there, dressed in a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the smooth lines of his forearms. His dark hair was slightly damp as if he’d just run a hand through it after a shower. He looked cleaner than last night, and looked sharper. Way more dangerous in daylight than he had in the shadows.
But his eyes softened when he saw her.
“You’re awake,” he said quietly.
Aliyah swallowed, tensing against the headboard. “Why am I here?”
He stepped inside, closing the door with a gentle click.
“You fainted,” he said. “My driver and I brought you back here for safety.”
“Safety,” she repeated, almost laughing. “Right. That’s… very generous of you. But, I don’t even know you.”
His jaw tightened, a subtle movement, but meaningful.
“You were attacked because of me,” Adrian said. “And I don’t leave injured women alone in parking lots.”
Aliyah stiffened. “Because of you? What does that mean?”
He paused, just long enough to confirm she was right to be suspicious.
“I’ll explain,” he murmured. “But not until you eat something.”
“Food is not what I should be asking right now,” she snapped. “I want answers.”
He raised a brow. “Then you’ll get both.”
Before she could argue, he disappeared into the hall. She heard quiet instructions being given to someone with his tone low and authoritative.
Moments later, he returned with a tray.
A full breakfast of toast, eggs, fruit, and tea that's still steaming.
Aliyah blinked. “…Did your chef make this?”
“I made it,” he said simply.
“You know how to cook?”
“I know how to keep someone alive,” he countered, setting the tray on the bed’s foldout table. “Sit up slowly.”
She hesitated…but obeyed.
He sat across from her on a low armchair, elbows resting on his knees, watching her like he was analyzing every breath she took.
It was unnerving.
Finally, she broke the silence.
“You said I was attacked because of you. What does that mean? Who was that man? And—how did you know me?”
His expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes.
Regret? Frustration? Fear?
“Aliyah,” he said, low and rough, “I need you to trust me.”
“I just met you actually!”
“I know,” he said softly. “But trust isn’t always built on time.”
She stared at him. “What you just said doesn’t make any sense.”
He leaned back, exhaling.
“I shouldn’t have approached you yesterday. I should’ve stayed away from you the moment I realized who you were.”
Her stomach flipped. “Who I… what? You really do know me?”
He held her gaze. “More than you think.”
Her breath stalled.
“Stop speaking in riddles,” she whispered. “I just want to know the truth.”
For the first time, he looked away.
“The man who attacked you was following me,” Adrian said. “And he saw me walk with you. He assumed… things.”
“What things?”
“That you were important to me.”
Aliyah stared at him, wide-eyed. “I barely know you.”
“Exactly.” His eyes hardened. “Which means he shouldn’t have targeted you.”
Her breath trembled, fear pooling under her ribs.
“Why would someone follow you?” she asked slowly.
He hesitated. It took him a long pause before he sighed and answered.
“I’m not a good man, Aliyah.”
Her heart thudded painfully. “So, do I have to be afraid of you too?”
“I’m saying that the world I come from is way far more different from the one you sing in, perform in, or laugh in.” He leaned forward, voice low and heavy. “And last night was proof of that.”
She shook her head. “No. No, you’re just being dramatic, right?”
“Am I?” His gaze sharpened. “A stranger tried to grab you with a knife while I was there. That doesn’t happen randomly.”
Aliyah’s breath hitched.
Silence swallowed the room, but her pulse roared in her ears.
“So what am I supposed to do now?” she whispered. “Stay locked in this guest room forever?”
His expression softened.
“You’re free to leave,” Adrian said. “I won’t stop you.”
She blinked, stunned.
“But if you walk out now,” he continued, voice dropping even lower, “you'll walk out without answers, without protection, and without knowing why a stranger is trying to protect you.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
He was right. She wanted to leave, but she also wanted the truth so desperately she could taste it.
“Then tell me,” she murmured. “Tell me everything I need to know.”
He inhaled slowly… and shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Why not?!”
“Because once you know,” he said, eyes burning, “you’ll never look at me.”
Her breath faltered.
She didn’t speak.
Neither did he.
But in the thick silence, something unspoken, dangerous, warm, and magnetic, pulled them toward each other like gravity.
ADRIAN’S POV
I should’ve kept my distance.
The moment I saw Aliyah Reevs standing under that dim stage light last night, singing like her soul was stitched into every note, I knew I was already ruined.
Not because she was beautiful, though she was. Not because her voice cut straight through the armor I’d spent years layering over myself. But because the moment she looked up and our eyes met… I felt something I wasn’t supposed to feel.
Curiosity? Warmth? Hope? I couldn't fully figure it out. But those are the things that men like me didn’t get to have.
And now, as I watched her sit there, bruised, confused, but still looking at me like I wasn’t a monster, I felt the walls tightening around my chest.
I had dragged her into danger without intending to.
I had broken my own rule of not letting the innocent get close. Because when they are, they get hurt.
When she asked how I knew her name… I lied. Or at least, I didn’t tell her the truth.
I knew her name long before last night.
I’d heard whispers of her from people who adored her voice.
I’d seen her audition tapes long before fate placed her in that bar.
I knew of her. I just never expected to meet her.
And certainly not like this.
I watched her fingers tremble slightly as she gripped the edge of the comforter. She was scared, but she wasn’t backing down. That strength, that fire… it made something inside me twist painfully.
She wanted answers, but I couldn’t give them yet. Because once she'll learn who I truly was… She would run.
But selfishly, shamefully, I prayed she wouldn’t. Selfishly hoping, not yet.
Just a little longer.
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