CHAPTER 43: LOYALTY IN THE SHADOWS

(Rowan’s POV —Before the Arrest of Evelina Hartgrave)

Evelina Hartgrave.

I’d heard her name long before I ever saw her face. Whispers. Rumors. Villainess. Witch. The monster in designer heels.

She was always in headlines—scandals, gossip, accusations—and I’d even heard ridiculous claims that she tried to kill her stepsister. That she is a walking curse.

But the day she looked me dead in the eye and said she had many enemies wanting her dead...

...I believed her.

Not because she sounded scared. Evelina Hartgrave never sounded scared. But because something in her voice stirred something in me—something I didn’t know I had left.

A need.

No—a pull.

A quiet instinct that whispered: Protect her.

That was why I volunteered to become her personal bodyguard. And the strangest part?

She accepted.

No hesitation. No test. Just a slow, knowing look... Like she has never expected this...but sure, let’s take you.

That was the moment something inside me snapped loose—like I tore through a thread tied around my throat for years, like I freed myself from a black destiny.

Being near her made the rumors make sense.

Yes, she was a villainess. Yes, she was a witch. But only when provoked.

Only when cornered.

And above all—she was more human than any of those people who whispered about her behind silk and gold.

I realized that the day she saw the horror carved across my torso—the slash marks, the burns, the reminders of what I’d survived—and simply said, "Those scars don’t disgust me, Rowan."

No pity. No fear. No softness.

Just acceptance.

Something warm slammed into my chest that day—a heat I didn’t understand, didn’t want, but couldn’t deny.

It was the first day I knew she needed protection. More than she knew. More than she would ever ask for.

And now—as the police dragged her away like some criminal trophy—she looked at me one last time before stepping into the car.

A single glance. A slow smirk.

The kind that spoke in codes.

Move according to my plan.

I nodded once—the only answer she needed—and turned away, heading in the direction we had agreed on beforehand. But before I could take three steps, someone grabbed my arm.

A strong grip. Bold. Uninvited.

I spun around, already prepared to break the wrist, but stopped when I saw the face.

Lucien Hartgrave.

Her brother.

His jaw was tight, his eyes sharp with suspicion.

"What are you two planning?" he demanded. "I saw that look she gave you before she got in the car. That smile—you two are definitely—"

I yanked my arm free, cold and precise.

"Sir," I said, my voice flat as ice, "I don’t trust anyone. Especially not her family."

He stiffened.

I didn’t care.

I didn’t wait for him to reply. Didn’t give him another second. I had limited time. A fragile window.

And I had one mission: Prove Kael Valtore is alive, uninjured, and lying to the entire world.

Because the moment that truth surfaced, everything would fall exactly the way Miss Evelina intended.

I slipped through the back door of the Hartgrave mansion. The night air was cold and sharp.A silhouette was already waiting beside a matte-black bike—helmet on, posture alert.

He looked up as I approached.

"The Vinter’s?" I asked quietly.

He nodded once, eyes scanning me with the efficiency of someone trained to kill.

"Sir Theo is waiting for you," he said in a low, accented tone. "Basement of the hospital."

I didn’t waste breath. I simply reached out, took the keys from his gloved hand, and mounted the bike.

The engine roared to life—and I rode.

Fast.

Focused.

Silent.

Exactly as Miss. Evelina expected me to.

***

[City Hospital Basement—Later]

The underground garage was dimly lit—one of those forgotten places where secrets were exchanged more often than parking tickets.

As I pulled in, I spotted him instantly.

Theo Vinter.

Leaning against the hood of a midnight-blue car like he owned the entire city. People flanked him—tall, armed, silent—his personal mafia shadows.

And he was casually smoking, like this was a social appointment rather than the prelude to dismantling a powerful CEO’s entire life.

I dismounted and walked toward him. The sound of my boots echoed.

No one spoke.

Theo’s eyes dragged up and down my frame—assessing, calculating—then he flicked the cigarette away with a lazy snap.

"Where’s the greeting?" he asked smoothly, voice dripping with quiet authority.

I met his gaze, cold and unblinking.

"Except for my madam," I said evenly, "I don’t bow to anyone."

One of his men twitched forward at the disrespect. Theo raised a hand—a silent command to stand down.

He didn’t look irritated. He didn’t look pleased either. He simply clicked his tongue.

"Tch. Loyal dog," he murmured. "Good."

He pushed off the car and stepped closer, close enough that I could smell the smoke on his breath—rich, expensive, imported.

"You know what to do?" he asked.

I nodded once.

He opened a sleek black case and handed it to me. Inside were tools—forged badges, a janitor’s uniform, and a small button camera—everything needed to expose Kael’s lie.

"This has everything," Theo said quietly, almost bored. "Once you finish your part... I’ll handle the rest."

I took the case. Turned. Started toward the hospital entrance.

Then paused.

I looked over my shoulder.

"One more thing," I said.

Theo raised a brow. I held his gaze, voice low and hard.

"Do not kill him." A beat. "That’s my Madam’s job."

Theo froze for half a second—then a slow, dangerous smile curled across his lips.

"Of course," he murmured. "I wouldn’t dream of stealing Evelina Hartgrave’s kill."

The way he said her name—amused, impressed, almost reverent—told me he understood exactly what game we were playing.

I turned away and walked toward the elevator.

Toward Kael Valtore. Toward the truth that would level every lie he constructed. Because the moment that truth surfaced, everything would fall exactly the way Miss Evelina intended.

***

(Rowan’s POV—City Hospital, Later—Janitor’s Room)

The janitor’s room smelled like bleach, old metal, and secrets.

I changed quickly—dark slacks, a pale-blue cleaner’s shirt, cheap shoes that squeaked, and a faded cap pulled low.

Then the last step: Blue contact lenses.Mask.Gloves.

By the time I finished, Rowan-the-bodyguard had disappeared. Standing in his place was someone forgettable.

Invisible.

Exactly what the job required to expose.

I tugged the cap lower and opened the door. A doctor was waiting in the hallway—mid-thirties, sharp eyes, trying hard to look like a harmless employee.

He wasn’t.

Theo Vinter didn’t hire harmless men.

He scanned me from head to toe, his gaze lingering on the badge pinned to my chest.

"You the new janitor?" he asked casually.

I gave a short nod. "Assignments?"

His lips curved the slightest bit — approval.

"Good. You’re early." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek white access card stamped with gold lettering.

VIP SUITE—LEVEL 7Authorized Entry: Medical Personnel Only

"Suite 701," he said, lowering his voice. "Valtore’s room."

I took the card silently. He leaned in, tone flat and precise: "Show this to the guards. Don’t hesitate. Act annoyed if they ask questions—hospital staff are always overworked. That sells the disguise."

I nodded once.

"Where’s security positioned?" I asked.

"One outside the door, one inside the hallway, and two roaming the corridor. They’ve been told to ’protect the CEO’s fragile condition.’"

He scoffed. "Fragile my ass."

I slipped the access card into my pocket.

"And the cameras?"

He smirked. "Already looped by our guy. You’ll appear as just another cleaner on the feed."

Good.

Everything was in motion.

He held out a tiny device—disguised as a shirt button. "Camera’s active. Audio too. The moment Kael opens his mouth, we’ll have it."

I clipped it on without hesitation.

His gaze sharpened.

"Once you’re inside, record everything. His movements, his posture, and his breathing. Anything that proves he isn’t injured."

"I know."

"And Rowan...?"

I paused.

"Don’t confront him unless you must. Get the footage. Get out. Theo will handle the rest."

I gave him a cold, steady look.

"I’m not here to confront," I said quietly. "I’m here to expose."

He nodded, satisfied. I reached for the door to the corridor. But before I stepped out, he added: "And Rowan... remember the order."

I didn’t turn back.

"I know," I said. "We don’t kill him."

A beat.

"That’s my Madam’s right."

He gave a low whistle. "Miss Evelina chose well."

I didn’t respond.

I simply walked out—a ghost in janitor’s clothes, armed with a camera, an access card, and a mission sharp enough to cut through lies.

Hallway lights buzzed overhead. Nurses rushed past. Doctors barked orders. The hospital was a perfect maze for someone who knew how to vanish inside it.

I slid into the service elevator and pressed the button for the seventh floor. As the doors closed, I breathed out once—steady, controlled.

This was it.

Kael Valtore liked playing victim. It’s time to show the world who the real one was, and I have to do it before something happens to Madam.