bChapter /bb167 /b

ADRIAN’S POV

Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

The sharp buzzing sound from the speaker jolted through the quiet of my room, vibrating in my skull like an unwanted rm clock. I groanedb, /bbhall /bburied under the sheets, my head pounding lightly from the wine I drank the night before. It had

rome a habit–drinking alone. At least wine didn’t ask questions or lie to me.

1 blinked and rolled over, dragging my arm toward the nightstand and fumbling around until I found the speaker button. I pressed it.

“What is it?” I rasped, my voice hoarse from sleep.

“Good morning sir, so sorry to disturb you,” came the voice of my gatekeeper through the speaker. “Mr. James is here to see you.”

James?

Why the hell was he here now? I didn’t tell him toe. And I certainly wasn’t in the mood ifor /iany of his overly–righteous lectures about how i needed to move on with life and “find peace.” Peace didn’t exist in my world–not anymore.

I scratched my eyes tiredly. “Let him in,” I said tly.

After everything with Dora, I had to change the house’s ess protocols. My gatekeeper was under strict instructions: no one came through without checking with me first. Dora had tried to sneak back in more times than I could count–sometimes sobbing bat /bthe gate, other times threatening to call the media. But my patience for maniption had long run dry.

I sat up in bed and looked around the room. It was a mess, a reflection of the state of my life. The heavy curtains were still drawn shut, blocking the sunlight from entering the space. Empty wine bottles littered the nightstand and floor, disposable cups scattered like forgotten memories. The air smelled faintly of aged liquor and something else I couldn’t ce–maybe loss.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat there for a moment, unmoving. My back ached slightly, and my temples throbbed. My eyes caught the framed photograph still sitting untouched on the shelf

It was almost noon and I was just getting out of bed, I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet

I shook my head and pushed myself up, dragging myself toward the bathroom. I sshed water on my face, trying to rinse off the exhaustion that had embedded itself beneath my skin. As I toweled off, I heard the creak of my bedroom door opening.

“Adrian,” James’s voice came through, calm but firm.

I walked out, still drying my hands, and caught him standing just inside the room. His eyes swept across the disaster zone–empty bottlesb, /bscattered clothes, dim light. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he stepped forward and flicked on the overhead lights.

The brightness stabbed into my eyes like knives. I flinched instantly.

“Damn it…turn it down,” I muttered, stumbling toward the drawer and pulling out ba /bpair of ck sunsses. I slid them on

James crossed his arms. “When was thest time you left this house?”

“Why are you here, James?” I asked, turning my back to him and walking slowly toward my bed. The room was dim, lit only by the faint morning light slipping through the heavy curtains.

James followed me inside without invitation, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor. “Why wouldn’t I be here, Adrian?” he snapped, his voice bechoing /bthrough the silence. “What’s going on with you? This has gone on for far too long. You haven’t been to thepany in months. I get that you’re the bCEO/b, but some meetings need your presence. You can’t hide forever.”

Here we go again.

b1/2 /b

10:22 bSun /b29 Jun

bChapter /b167

Every time Janns saw me, It was the same thing shother lectura, andatel attempt to drag me out of the pit id antify the same regasit pan

“You knew,” muttered as I climbed back into the unnada bed, piling the coldes university lecturer would suit you perfectly now you’ve pet the tone for

mway oehr my body. “qou should really consider change

* rebellious teenager’s Bedroom Has trent dress, katus

James didn’tugh. He rarely did these days.

Instead, he stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning the mest like a parent inspecting a an empty wine bottle, then another. They clinked together in his hands.

b“/bWhere are all the staff?” he asked sharply, walking to the corner where a tray of untouched food had begun to sour. This ce is upside down. How can

live here?”

you

“I sent them away,” I said tly, not bothering to look at him. “All of them. Every single one. I can’t trust anyone anymore”

“This isn’t about trust, Adrian. You’re falling apart,” James said, dropping the bottles on a nearby table with a tter. i“/iYou’re a former shell of murself if you don’t pull it together soon, thepany will copse right along with you.*

I rolled my eyes, dragging the covers higher. If I ignored him long enough, he’d eventually give up and leave, just like everyone else.

James wasn’t finished.

“Look at yourself, man,” he said, voice breaking with frustration. “You’ve gone so deep into this hole you’ve grown a full beard. You barely shave, barely eat, barely live. Have you even stopped to ask yourself why you’re still like this?”

I gave a bitter chuckle. “I think I’m perfectly fine the way I am.”

“No, you’re not. You’re not even dominant and intimidating anymore–not the man people used to fear. And I don’t know why.” He paused, then stepped closer to the bed, his voice quieter now, almost pained. “You got rid of your mom’s killers. You avenged her. That was the nightmare that haunted you for years. And now that it’s over… why are you still broken?”

And those words–those damn words–cut deeper than I expected.

I stared at the ceiling, trying to keep my expression nk, but my chest tightened with the weight of truth. I had been living in the past. Holding onto grief like afort nket. Life had taken everything from me, piece by piece. Yes, I had wealth. More than most people could dream of. But wealth… wealth didn’t fill the void. It didn’t rece love. It didn’t heal what had been lost.

“Maybe,” I said quietlyi, /i“because letting go means epting that she’s nevering back.”

James didn’t speak after that. He just stood there, the silence between us louder than anything else.