Chapter 15
1942 Words
I stared at Adrian, still trying to figure him out. My brain refused to process anything.
My room… but not my house.
My bed… but not my street.
My posters… but definitely not my peeling ceiling.
It felt like stepping into a parallel universe sponsored by a billionaire with too much money and absolutely zero boundaries.
I slowly turned back to Adrian.
He looked annoyingly calm, like people reconstructed entire bedrooms from memory every day.
“Mr Blackwell, we are not close enough for me to invite you into my room, right? So how do you know what my room looks like?”
If I’m being honest, the whole situation was terrifying.
He just stared at me. No explanation. No blink. Nothing.
“So,” I tried again, “let me get this straight. You… recreated my entire room. In your house.”
“Yes,” he answered like he was reading a weather update. “You got hurt on our way, so I made this one identical. I didn’t want you panicking when you woke up.”
“You said I was fine back then.”
“I lied.”
“You LIED about my health?!” I clutched my neck because this man was stressing me into early retirement. “Anyway, I’m not hurting, so I can go home.”
“You can’t. Not until I’m sure you’re okay.”
He said it with the same expression someone uses to read a grocery list.
“I woke up thinking I was dead!” I half-screamed.
“More reasons you should stay and rest. And… you’re welcome.”
“… That was not a thank you.”
“Didn’t sound like one,” he muttered, already scrolling through his phone.
“I can take good care of myself!” I rushed in front of him, trying to get his attention, but he just took his laptop and sat down like I wasn’t even oxygen.
I threw my hands up.
Of COURSE, the man who mocked me for believing I could be a lost princess thinks interior-design kidnapping is medical care.
Oh heavens, what did I do in my past life? Did I steal candy from a baby? Betray a god?
If so, I’m sorry. Please deliver me from this walking stress disguised as a human male.
“Adrian, you can’t just take people from the forest, drive them to your house, create a fake home, drop them inside a cloned bedroom, and then act like it’s NORMAL!”
“You kept insisting on going home,” he said. “So I gave you one.”
“That’s not how going home WORKS!”
He finally looked up, eyes sharp, voice dropping into something that made my stomach tighten.
“Ava, I’m going to make sure you’re fine myself before you go anywhere.”
My heart thudded hard.
“… Why do you care?”
He didn’t answer.
At this point, I don't know if Adrain Blackwell really cares or whether he's just being A Blackwell.
That was the part that frustrated me enough to consider temporary insanity. I stormed into the copy-paste version of my room, fully expecting him to follow. He didn’t.
Fine. If they wanted to cage me like an animal, I would try to escape like one.
I pressed my ear to the door. Silence.
Then footsteps moved away.
My opportunity.
God blessed me with an opportunity, because Adrian left the room for whatever reason it may be. I don't care.
I used that as an opportunity to save myself. Slowly I opened my room door, sneakily, I just put my head out to scan the environment for anyone and when I didn’t see, I ran off without any plan. I ran like a headless chicken pretending to be sane.
The doors weren't locked, of course he wouldn't lock it, he didn’t expect me to run away from the house, which is so thoughtful of him.
I made it out of the house without getting caught, and I was so relieved. Finally, I can go back to my home and not a made-up home by a billionaire.
But my happiness was cut short because I saw my very own sweet kidnappers walking towards me smiling. They caught me before I could even run away.
“I am sorry, Miss Ava, he told us to let you enjoy freedom a little bit and have you escorted back,” one of them explained.
That son of a gun.
He knew.
He probably watched my whole sprint on ten different security cameras.
They walked me back to him. He didn’t even look surprised. Just kept typing like I was a grocery item being returned to the shelf.
“Mr Blackwell, I am so sorry, but you misunderstood me. I was just taking a walk around the house. I was so shocked about how beautiful the house was that I ended up wandering further away,” I said, pretending to be hurt for being misunderstood.
“Is that so Miss Collins?” he asked expressionless.
And we are back to ‘miss Collins’ again.
“Of course sir, I can't believe you thought i would escape from here when I could have everything I want here.”
“Yeah, you are right.”
“Exactly my point,” I said in happiness. He believed me.
“Then he turned on a hidden TV screen.
Footage appeared: me sneaking around, peeking over my shoulder, sprinting like a criminal in gym clothes.
I froze.
“A unique way of taking a walk,” Adrian commented.
“Where I’m from, that’s how we check out a new house,” I said weakly.
“Ava,” he called out, standing up and moving close to me while signaling his men to leave.
“No one said you were trying to run away, and you gave yourself out twice,” he smiled. That son of a gun was seducing me with his smile, and now I can't think of anything other than wanting him so badly. In between my legs aches from wanting him. I can't believe I am feeling this way just because he smiled.
“I really wasn't trying to…” He didn't let me finish, he leaned in so close to me and whispered in my ears.
“You look really cute when you lie, so cute that I want to bend you over and make you scream my name.”
My imagination jumped off a cliff. For a second I thought I was kissing him, only to realize I had leaned in, eyes shut, lips puckered… in empty air.
A humiliating masterpiece.
Ava Collins: How many times are you going to embarrass yourself in front of Adrian Blackwell?
“I guess I am not so heartless after all, I will give you what you want,” when he said that, he wasn't smiling at all just looking at me straight in the eyes.
He pressed his thumb on my lips and said, 'Let me do the biting, not you.' It was only then that I realized I was biting my lips.
“I…” I couldn’t say a word because he crashed his lips on mine, kissing me fiercely that sent stars in my eyes.
How could this guy be so good at using his tongue? He was driving me crazy, and I felt weak, so I leaned closer to him putting my hands around his neck to support myself. And then I felt it.
Adrian Blackwell was hard as rock. Finding that out made me a bit excited because this was something I also really wanted.
My fingers, still tangled in the silky strands at the nape of his neck, tightened their grip, pulling him even closer, if that were even possible.
His mouth, a weapon of mass seduction, left mine, trailing a path of fire down my jawline. A soft moan, embarrassingly eager, escaped my lips as his hot breath ghosted over the sensitive skin beneath my ear. "You wanted this, Ava," he rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that resonated deep in my core. "Admit it."
"I... I think you already know," I managed, my voice breathless, my hands now straying from his neck, tracing the hard line of his shoulders, feeling the taut muscle beneath his shirt. I could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he chuckled, his lips finding the hollow of my throat, sending another wave of shivers, this time of pure pleasure, through me.
"Oh, I know," he murmured, and then his mouth was on my neck, a soft, deliberate bite that had me arching into him, my hips instinctively pressing against his. My hands slid lower, over his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart echoing my own. He tasted of desire and something primal, something wild that threatened to unravel every carefully constructed restraint I possessed. My knees felt like overcooked spaghetti, and I was clinging to him like a limpet to a rock, lost in the intoxicating haze of his touch.
His hand, surprisingly gentle yet firm, found the curve of my waist, then slid lower, settling just above my ass, pressing me flush against his undeniable hardness. A gasp tore from my throat, a sound that was half shock, half delirious pleasure. The ache between my legs intensified, blossoming into a fiery throb that demanded relief. "Adrian," I whimpered, the sound barely audible, a plea that hung heavy in the air between us. My fingers, now fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, were clumsy with urgency. I needed to feel more of him, all of him.
He pulled back, just inches, his eyes, dark and heavy with passion, locking onto mine. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face, not the teasing one from before, but one that promised delicious ruin. "Scream my name, Ava," he whispered, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, sending a jolt that went straight to my core. "Just like I promised."
My breath hitched, my mind a dizzying whirl of sensation, when a jarring, insistent **BEEP-BEEP-BEEP** sliced through the charged silence.
My eyes flew open, the sudden intrusion a splash of ice water on my fevered brain. Adrian paused, his thumb still a tantalizing presence on my thigh, his eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing their depths.
The sound persisted, a relentless, cheerful jingle. I fumbled for my phone, which had somehow migrated to my back pocket. The screen flashed, a bright, unwelcome beacon.
**Incoming Call: Bestie!**
And beneath her name, a text preview, already popping up like an unwanted party guest: "OMG, Ava! You are NOT going to believe what I just heard about Adrian Blackwell, it's HUGE! Call me back ASAP!
I pushed Adrian away and grabbed my phone. I was a bit scared something had happened, so I called her back instantly.
She answered screaming.
“What happened?” I asked, heart pounding.
“Ava! Mr Dave called a board meeting under Blackwell’s name. He demanded to know why you were fired. One director said the project you became famous for was actually Victor’s. They said you stole it over some lovers’ quarrel and kept haunting him even after you knew he was married!”
Sarah inhaled like she’d just run a marathon.
I saw red.
“That cheap son of a… I swear I will end him today.”
Adrian looked at me sharply, all heat replaced with something colder.
Something calculating.
The room shifted.
The whole story shifted.
And my next move was no longer about kissing him.
It was war.
- Writer
