Chapter 16-Conversation
1091 Words
The air in Maya’s apartment was stale and trapped the midday heat, making the small living room feel even more crowded than it was. Maya immediately went for the windows, throwing them open and cursing the humidity, while Cassie started helping her unpack the essentials. Adrian, meanwhile, sat on the edge of a mismatched armchair, looking like a man who had officially reached his limit for the day.
"The place is a mess," Maya muttered, kicking a stray pile of mail toward the coffee table. "But at least the fridge should still have some wine that hasn't turned into vinegar."
"I'll check," Cassie offered, heading for the kitchen. She seemed to be the only one moving with any real energy.
Ariana leaned against the doorframe, watching Adrian. He wasn't doing the "mysterious brooding" thing anymore. He just looked exhausted. He’d spent the last hour hauling heavy bags up three flights of stairs in a humid stairwell, and the sweat was visible on the collar of his t-shirt.
"You okay?" Ariana asked, her voice low.
Adrian looked up, his eyes bloodshot from the drive. "I’m fine. Just ready for the sun to go down."
"Don't mind him, Ari," Maya called out from the bedroom, where she was already tossing laundry into a pile. "He’s just grumpy because I didn't fall for the 'silent protector' act at the airport. Lucia really did a number on your reputation, Adrian. She made you sound like the bogeyman."
Adrian didn't even look toward the bedroom. He just stared at the floor, his hands dangling between his knees. "Lucia Lawson likes to tell stories because the truth about her own family is too boring to talk about. Her husband is a bully, her father-in-law is a thief, and she’s the one who covers the tracks. She needs me to be a 'threat' so she can feel like a victim."
Ariana walked over and sat on the arm of the chair next to him. "Is she wrong, though? About the audit? About how fast it happened?"
Adrian finally looked at her. The tired, sweaty guy was still there, but behind his eyes, there was that sharp, calculating edge that reminded her why they had a contract in the first place. "It doesn't matter how fast it happened. It matters that it’s happening. Mark is currently answering questions about offshore accounts he didn't even know existed. He doesn't have time to text you, Ariana. He doesn't have time to think about us."
"So it's done?" Ariana pushed.
"It’s never 'done' with people like that," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a gravelly hum. "They’ll find someone to blame, pay a fine, and move on. But for the next five months, they won't be looking at this apartment or yours. That was the point of the deal."
Cassie walked back in, holding three lukewarm bottles of beer. "Best I could do. The wine was definitely vinegar."
She handed one to Ariana and one to Adrian. Adrian took it, the glass clinking against his ring, and he took a long, desperate swig.
Maya emerged from the bedroom, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, looking a bit more human. She grabbed the third beer from Cassie and leaned against the wall, staring Adrian down. "You’re a weird guy, Adrian. You drive a car that looks like it belongs in a scrapyard, you live in a guest room, and yet you can bring down a marketing dynasty in a weekend. What's the catch? Nobody does that for free."
Adrian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn't look like a CEO giving a press conference. He looked like a man who was tired of being interrogated.
"The catch is that I like my privacy," Adrian said bluntly. "Mark was making too much noise. People who make noise attract attention. I don't like attention. Solving Ariana’s problem solved mine, too."
"And what exactly is your problem?" Maya asked, her eyes narrowing.
Adrian set the beer bottle down on the floor. He stood up, the old springs of the chair groaning as he rose. He didn't answer her. Instead, he looked at Ariana. "We should get going. You’ve got a pitch meeting tomorrow morning, and I need to get the car checked."
"Wait, you’re leaving already?" Maya asked, sounding almost disappointed. "I haven't even started on the London stories."
"Save them for dinner," Adrian said. He moved toward the door, his pace steady. He looked like any other guy in a hoodie, his shoulders slightly slumped from the weight of the day.
As Ariana followed him out to the hallway, she caught Maya and Cassie sharing a look—a mix of confusion and genuine curiosity. Maya gave her a small, supportive nod, but the skepticism was still there, written all over her face.
They walked down the stairs in silence. The air in the stairwell was even hotter than in the apartment. When they reached the silver hatchback, Adrian stopped and leaned against the trunk, looking at the sunset that was finally starting to bleed across the horizon.
"Your friend is sharp," Adrian said, not looking at her. "She’s going to keep digging."
"She’s just looking out for me," Ariana replied, leaning against the car next to him. "She’s seen me deal with Mark for years. She doesn't want me falling into another trap."
Adrian let out a short, dry sound—not quite a laugh, but close. He turned to her, and for a second, the mask was gone completely. He looked human, vulnerable, and deeply tired. A slow, razor-thin smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth—the look of a man who knew he was being judged and had stopped caring a long time ago.
"Tell her to keep digging if it makes her feel better," Adrian said, opening the driver's side door. "But tell her to be careful what she finds. Sometimes the truth is a lot more boring than the ghost story."
He climbed into the car and started the engine. As Ariana got into the passenger seat, she looked back at Maya’s window. She could see the silhouette of her best friend watching them from above.
The Lawsons were saving themselves, Maya was back, and the marketing firm was finally quiet. But as Adrian pulled out into the street, his hands steady on the wheel, Ariana realized that the real story was only just beginning. And this time, she wasn't just a spectator. She was right in the middle of the flame.
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