Chapter 6: Adrian Strikes Back
1045 Words
Adrian Vale didn't panic.
Panic for men is fragile.
And confusion?
Yet confusion is dangerous.
Adrian was awake before dawn, his eyes open, heart steady—yet something feel so wrong.
Not guilt.
Not fear.
Uncertainty.
The room is quiet except for my breathing near him, slow and even. He watch the ceiling, replaying the last forty-eight hours like a malfunctioning algorithm.
The investigation.
The articles.
And the sudden betrayal of people who once begged for his attention.
Someone move against him.
And he did not see it coming.
That thoughts burns worse than any headline.
---
By afternoon, the mansion becomes a war room.
Security heads first.
Then lawyers arrive.
Some men who didn't give their real names, never sit with their backs to doors.
Screens glow with a database —stock dropping, media sentiment, government filings.
Adrian stand at the head of the long table, calm carved into his posture.
“Find the leak—someone who did this” he orders. “And start with internal communications.”
“Yes sir.”
“Trace everything about journalist contact from the past seven months.”
“Yes sir.”
“Anyone who hesitates” he added,
"Is no longer loyal.”
The room tighten.
I pour tea.
No one question why I’m there.
Because as for them.
Wives are invisible.
And that’s a mistake.
---
Adrian believe power flows upward.
That if he tightens his grip hard enough, the truth will come out on the surface.
He freeze accounts.
Threatening lawsuits.
Leaks counter-stories painting himself as a victim of that sabotage.
For a moment, it works.
The media hesitated.
Stocks stabilize.
And Adrian exhales.
Then, another article drops.
Another witness step in.
Another anonymous source post.
The wound reopens.
And it became deeper.
---
By evening, three lawyers are fired.
Two assistants disappear.
One former accountant is found dead in what the news called a robbery gone wrong.
Adrian does not order it.
He allowed it.
That’s how he sleep at night.
---
Lila’s name never cross his lips again.
Her things vanish like the guest wings fly.
Her number stop responding.
The press speculated.
Mistress dumped to protect this marriage.
Adrian never deny.
He let them believe it was all his choice.
As I watch him burn a bridge and tell himself it was strategy.
Men like him hate admitting fear.
That night, he watch me closely.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said.
“Always.”
“You didn’t read the news.”
“I don’t need to.”
His eyes narrow.
“You should’ve be angry,” he says.
“They are tearing us apart.”
Then it hit me.
Us.
The word is almost sound so funny.
“I trust you,” I reply calmly.
The lie slides between us.
And for a second, his shoulders relax.
Trust is his weakness.
And I want him to trust me so that it will cut deeper than a knife.
---
Two days later, he leak some false information.
Fake document trail.
A planted rumor about offshore account in a country he'd never touch.
He wait.
The journalist bite.
The article published.
Adrian smile for the first time in days.
“Caught you,” he murmured.
He ordered his team to follow the sources.
They start tracking it.
And they find…. nothing.
NOTHING.
The journalist denied knowing where the money came from.
The trail ends like smoke.
Someone is smarter than him, anticipate the move.
That thought tighten his jaw.
Adrian begin restless sleep.
Eating less.
Trusting few people.
He review security footage all by himself.
Replay conversations.
Dissecting emails word by word.
He interrogates his own men.
Some lie.
Some break.
Some die.
None confess.
Because the know none of them are guilty.
The enemy isn’t his organization.
She’s married to him.
She's always near him.
Intimidating.
He schedules a press conference.
Stands before cameras in a flawless suit, eyes steady, voice calm.
“Vale Industries is under attack.” he say.
“By those who profit from lies.”
"Die."
He frames himself as hunted.
As a predator.
Yet he doesn't know it's beside him.
Human.
The world is listening.
Some believed him.
Enough to slow the bleeding.
But not enough to stop it.
---
That night, he corner me in the hallway.
“You’re not afraid” he say.
“No.”
“Why?”
I meet his gaze.
“Because you said fear is loud.” I reply.
“And this is quiet.”
He studied my face.
Calculating.
Searching.
Then he step back.
“Someone thinks they’re clever” he said.
“Yes.” I agree softly.
“They all gonna regret it.”
I smile faintly.
“I’m sure they will.”
---
Adrian seen attacks.
He doesn’t see design.
He doesn’t realize every hit that land is just short of killing him—on purpose faithfully.
That someone wants him begging.
Expose.
Watching everything he built turn towards him slowly.
He assumes his enemy is clueless.
Reckless.
Emotional.
Male.
That’s a mistake—again.
Dipshit.
---
Later that night, he sits beside me on the bed.
“They want to destroy me. See my downfall.” he says quietly.
I say nothing.
“And I won’t let them.”
Still nothing.
He turns to me.
“You’ll stay,” he say. “No matter what happen.”
It’s not a question.
It's a promise.
I nod.
“Of course.”
He reached my hand.
The ring feels heavier than ever.
---
By morning, he is ready.
He authorizes deeper surveillance.
Hired private intelligence.
Starts digging into everyone who work on him—including the dead.
Marcus Hale’s name resurfaces.
Adrian’s jaw tighten.
“Who dug that?” he mutters.
I watch him unravel his own past thread by threadto the end.
Truth is close now.
Too close to reject.
That’s the beauty of it.
He sleep beside the storm.
Confident in it.
Trust it.
And believed —
With absolute certainty—
That the enemy is still outside his walls watching.
Adrian Vale strike back.
Hard.
Fast.
Blind.
And I let him.
I always do.
Because the more violently he fights the dark.
The less he notice the woman holding the match.
Clapping for his downfall.
- Writer
