(Emily's POV)
I stood frozen in the guest room, Adrian's phone burning in my hand like a hot coal. Victoria's voice, smooth yet urgent, familiar even though I'd never heard it before, echoed in my ears: I need you… and he does, too. The words reverberated through my skull, each repetition sending a fresh wave of anxiety through my chest. My heart pounded against my ribcage, each beat a painful reminder of everything I stood to lose. I had to tell him. I couldn't keep this secret, not even for a moment. My fingers trembled as I clutched the phone, its sleek surface now slick with my perspiration.
I rushed downstairs, my footsteps echoing on the hardwood, where Adrian was grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. The morning light filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across his tense face.
"Adrian!" I called, my voice shaky and thin in the quiet house. "I answered your phone. It was Victoria."
He stopped mid-motion, turning sharply. His eyes, usually warm when they looked at me, turned cold and alert in an instant. "You what?"
"She called," I said, holding out the phone like evidence at a trial. The distance between us seemed to stretch across miles rather than feet. "She said she needs you. And… someone else does, too." The words felt like poison on my tongue.
His eyes narrowed, dark brows drawing together. The muscle in his jaw twitched, a tell I'd learned meant he was restraining himself. "What else did she say?"
"Nothing," I said, my throat tight, constricting around each syllable. "She realized it wasn't you and hung up." The conversation had been brief but devastating, like a bullet fired from a distance, small but lethal.
He cursed, the harsh word cutting through the tense air between us. He snatched the phone from my outstretched hand, his fingers brushing mine without warmth. He opened the call log, his jaw tight, eyes scanning the screen. "When was this?"
"Just now," I said, wrapping my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the mild temperature. "Adrian, what's going on?" The question hung between us, fragile and demanding.
He didn't answer, just stormed toward his bedroom, dialing someone with quick, angry jabs at the screen. His footsteps were heavy, purposeful. "Daniel, track her number. Now." His voice faded as the bedroom door slammed with enough force to rattle the nearby pictures.
I stood there in the kitchen, my hands shaking, feeling suddenly small and insignificant in the spacious room. Victoria was back. After all this time, all these secrets, she was back. And she was pulling him away like the tide. The realization settled over me like a shroud. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and texted Nathaniel with trembling fingers: 'Victoria called. Said she needs Adrian. I'm freaking out.' The screen remained blank. No reply. I didn't have time to wait for one.
I followed the sound of Adrian's agitated footsteps to his room, drawn like a moth to a flame that might consume me. The door was ajar, and he was yanking on a leather jacket, his phone pressed to his ear. "Yeah, private airstrip. Get the car ready." He hung up, tossing the phone onto the bed, not seeing me hovering in the doorway.
"Where are you going?" I asked, stepping inside, the plush carpet absorbing the sound of my cautious steps.
He barely glanced at me, grabbing his wallet from the dresser. "Airport. Stay here." His voice was clipped, each word a command he expected to be obeyed without question.
"No," I said, my voice firm despite the tremor in my hands. "I'm coming." I straightened my spine, preparing for battle.
"Emily, go back," he snapped, brushing past me, the scent of his cologne, spicy and expensive, momentarily overwhelming my senses. "This doesn't concern you."
"It does," I said, following him to the elevator, my sneakers silent against the polished floor. "I'm your wife, remember? Filed and legal." The words felt hollow even as I spoke them, a technicality rather than a truth.
He stopped at the elevator, his eyes flashing dangerously, but he didn't argue. The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and he stepped in. I followed, my heart racing so fast I felt lightheaded. He didn't speak as we descended, his silence louder than any shout could have been. The tension between us was a living thing, coiling and writhing in the small space.
In the lobby, a black SUV waited, its engine purring quietly. Adrian climbed in, and I slid into the back before he could stop me or the driver could close the door. The leather seat was cool against my legs. The driver, a burly man in a dark suit, glanced at us in the rearview mirror but said nothing, pulling smoothly into the early morning traffic. Adrian stared out the window, his profile harsh in the shifting light, his phone buzzing insistently. He ignored it, fingers drumming against his thigh.
"Adrian," I said, my voice low enough that only he could hear. "Talk to me. What's Victoria want?"
"I don't know," he said, his tone clipped, eyes still fixed on the passing scenery. "But I'm finding out." His knuckles were white where they gripped his phone.
I leaned back against the seat, my mind spinning like a carousel gone mad. The photo of Julian I'd found, Maria's cryptic warning, the letter addressed to "J", it all swirled together into a dizzying puzzle. Was Victoria bringing her son? Was he Adrian's? My stomach twisted painfully at the thought, but I kept quiet. The car sped toward the airport, the city blurring past in streaks of steel and glass.
My phone buzzed as we hit the highway, cutting through the silence. Sophia. I answered, keeping my voice low, conscious of Adrian beside me. "Soph, not a good time."
"Where are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp with concern. "Nate said Victoria called. What's happening?"
"I'm with Adrian," I whispered, cupping my hand around the phone. "We're going to the airport. She's back."
"Back?" she hissed, the single word loaded with alarm. "Em, get out of there. This is bad."
"I can't," I said, glancing at Adrian. He was texting rapidly, his face hard as granite. "I need to know what's going on."
"You're gonna get hurt," she said, her voice softening with worry. "Call me when you're safe."
I hung up, my hands sweaty around the phone. Adrian's phone rang, shattering the tense quiet, and he answered instantly. "Daniel, what've you got?"
"Her number pinged at a private airstrip," Daniel's voice crackled through the speaker. "Chopper's landing soon. You sure about this?"
"Yeah," Adrian said, his voice tightly controlled. "Thanks." He hung up, his jaw working as he clenched his teeth.
"Chopper?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, cutting through the silence like a knife. "She's flying in?"
"Looks like it," he said, still not meeting my eyes, his gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance. "Emily, you shouldn't be here."
"Too late," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, feeling the rapid beat of my heart beneath my ribs. "I'm not leaving."
He sighed, a heavy sound full of resignation, but didn't argue further. The car turned onto a private road lined with tall pines that swayed in the morning breeze, the airport's lights glowing ahead like distant stars. My heart pounded, each beat a countdown. Victoria. Here. Now.
The airstrip was empty except for a few low-slung hangars and a blinking runway stretching into the distance. The SUV stopped near a chain-link fence, tires crunching on the gravel surface, and Adrian jumped out, his coat flapping in the cold wind that cut through my thin sweater. I followed, my sneakers crunching on loose gravel. A low rumble grew louder overhead, a helicopter, its searchlight cutting through the morning mist like a knife.
"Stay back," Adrian said, his voice sharp with warning.
"No," I said, stepping beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. He glared at me, his eyes dark and unreadable, but didn't push me away. The chopper's roar drowned out everything as it descended, kicking up swirls of dust and dead leaves. My hair whipped across my face like angry snakes, and I shielded my eyes from the debris.
The chopper touched down with a gentle bounce, its blades slowing gradually, the whump-whump-whump growing softer. The door slid open with a metallic clang, and a figure stepped out, silhouetted against the swirling mist. Victoria. Her blonde hair caught the pale morning light, gleaming like spun gold, her posture stiff but unmistakable even at this distance. She stood there, alone, her face hidden in the haze, a specter from Adrian's past come to haunt us both.