Don’t Trust Anyone
Adrian’s POV
A longer silence followed. Then-“Yes. It was her.”
I stood completely still.
“I don’t know how she managed to drag you out,” Father said, his voice low, almost like a confession. “By the time she found me, she could barely stand. Her legs were covered in blood. But she made me promise not to tell you.”
“Why?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Because she wanted things to be fair,” he said. “She knew how girls around you competed–how a single moment of sympathy could change everything. She didn’t want that rescue to become her winning card. She said if she were to be chosen, it should be for who she was, not because she saved your life.”
He paused, then added, quieter, “Your mother and I… we always believed Selene was the one. Not just because of what she had achieved at our casino. But because even as a child, she understood what it meant to be noble. To be strong. To be good. She would’ve stood in front of you when danger came. That’s what we wanted for you. Someone worthy of standing beside you. Son… you let a diamond slip through your fingers.”
The call ended. And I couldn’t move. I sat there, hollow, numb, staring at nothing.
In my last life, she died for me. And I let her be buried in some unmarked place, forgotten.
And in this life… when I had the chance to make things right- I chose the wrong one.
I thought I owed everything to Elara. Because I thought she saved me.
But it was all a lie. The pure angel I thought turns out to be nothing but a lying monster.
And I was a fool.
Elara and I were supposed to host a family dinner tonight. A celebration.
But I couldn’t play along.
Most of the evening, I let Elara lead me like a puppet, letting her chatter fill the silence I couldn’t break.
When we stepped into the dining room, her grip tightened around my arm.
I followed her gaze.
Selene’s seat was set. Right beside my mother’s, like always. A place saved for someone who no longer belonged.
1
Elara hesitated, then said carefully, “Didn’t Selene say she was leaving the Vale? Why is her seat still here? Is she… coming?”
“No,” my mother began to reply.
But I cut her off
