CHAPTER THREE
962 Words
Silence shouldn't feel this loud.
But it did.
The car moved smoothly through the city, lights passing in blurred streaks outside the window. I kept my gaze fixed on them, pretending they were more interesting than the man sitting next to me.
They weren't.
Nothing about this felt normal anymore.
Not the way his hand felt on my waist.
Not the way he had looked at me during the dance.
And definitely not the way my heart had reacted.
"You're overthinking."
His voice cut clean through my thoughts.
I exhaled slowly. "You don't know that."
"I do."
I turned slightly. "Oh really?"
"Yes." He didn't even look at me. "You go quiet when you're trying to make sense of something you don't want to admit."
I crossed my arms. "You've known me for less than a day."
"I don't need more time."
Of course he didn’t.
Because men like him didn’t guess.
They observed. Calculated. Controlled.
“Then enlighten me,” I said. “What exactly am I ‘not admitting’?”
Now he looked at me.
And there it was again,
That intensity.
“You felt something back there.”
My breath caught.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Lena.”
“It was part of the act.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
The words were quiet.
But firm.
Something in my chest tightened.
“Why does it matter?” I shot back. “Isn’t that what you wanted? For it to look real?”
His jaw shifted slightly.
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Then explain the difference.”
He didn’t answer immediately.
And for the first time since I met him...
Adrian Wolfe hesitated.
“I control what’s real,” he said finally.
I let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “That’s not how feelings work.”
“For me, it is.”
“That’s not confidence,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “That’s denial.”
The air in the car changed instantly.
Colder.
Sharper.
“Careful,” he said.
“Why?” I challenged. “Because I might be right?”
His gaze darkened.
“Because you’re stepping into something you don’t understand.”
Something flickered inside me,
Not fear.
Something else.
“Then maybe you should explain it instead of acting like some untouchable mystery.”
The driver slowed slightly at a red light.
Perfect timing.
Because the tension inside the car was starting to feel...suffocating.
Adrian leaned back, his gaze fixed on me now.
“You want honesty?” he asked.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“People leave.”
The words were simple.
Flat.
But they carried weight.
I frowned slightly. “That’s your big revelation? Everyone knows that.”
“No,” he said quietly. “Not like this.”
Something in his tone made me stop.
Actually stop.
“They don’t just leave,” he continued. “They betray. They use what you give them against you. And when they’re done...”
His gaze hardened.
“They make sure you regret ever trusting them.”
The car went completely still.
Red light.
Silence.
And suddenly,
this wasn’t about the contract anymore.
I studied him.
Really looked this time.
At the control.
At the tension in his jaw.
At the way his hands were too still.
“You’re not talking about ‘people,’” I said softly.
His eyes snapped to mine.
“You’re talking about one person.”
A mistake.
I knew it the second I said it.
Because something in him shut down instantly.
Gone.
Walls back up.
Expression blank.
“You’re overstepping.”
There it was again.
Cold. Distant. Untouchable.
I should have dropped it.
I didn’t.
“Is that why the rule exists?” I asked quietly. “No feelings, no attachment, because you’re afraid it’ll happen again?”
“Enough.”
The word was sharp.
Final.
The light turned green.
The car moved.
And just like that,
the moment was over.
Or at least...that’s what he wanted.
I leaned back slightly, exhaling.
“Fine.”
Silence returned.
But it wasn’t the same as before.
This one was heavier.
Loaded.
A few minutes passed before he spoke again.
“Next time,” he said, his tone controlled once more, “you follow the rules.”
I glanced at him.
“I did.”
“No.”
His gaze shifted to me briefly.
“You pulled away.”
My chest tightened slightly.
“That’s what you wanted.”
“I wanted you to be convincing.”
“And I was,” I said. “Until it stopped feeling like acting.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Silence.
“That won’t happen again,” he said.
Too quickly.
Too certain.
I looked at him.
“You sure about that?”
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
Because for the first time since this whole thing started,
Adrian Wolfe didn’t look in control.
The car stopped in front of my building.
Not exactly the kind of place someone like him would ever step into.
I reached for the door.
“Lena.”
I paused.
Slowly turned back.
His expression was unreadable again.
But his voice,
lower now.
More careful.
“This only works if we both follow the rules.”
I nodded slightly.
“I know.”
A beat passed.
Then, softer,
“Do you?”
Something in my chest shifted.
I held his gaze for a second longer than necessary.
“Goodnight, Adrian.”
I stepped out of the car before he could say anything else.
But as I walked toward the entrance...
I could feel it.
That pull.
That tension.
That something neither of us wanted to name.
And deep down,
I knew.
This wasn’t going to stay fake for long.
- Writer
