CHAPTER 3 — THE NIGHT ERYN FOLLOWED HIM
The music of the ballroom faded behind Eryn Hart like falling snow—soft, glittering, and instantly forgotten.
All he could think of was Evangeline's trembling whisper:
"What if what you find hurts more?"
His hands tightened at his sides.
Then I'll hurt with you.
But I'll bring you the truth.
He slipped into the quieter west wing, blending into the shadows as naturally as breathing. Childhood etiquette lessons taught Evangeline how to smile perfectly.
But they taught Eryn how to disappear.
THE TRAIL ADRIAN LEFT BEHIND
Adrian walked like a man who didn't want to be seen.
Not toward the washrooms.
Not toward the guest lounge.
Not toward anything innocent.
He took the small servants' corridor behind the floral arrangement—a narrow path only staff and family knew existed.
Vivianne joined him moments later, her heels tapping softly, her smile wickedly pleased.
They didn't speak as they walked.
They didn't need to.
Their bodies leaned toward each other with the intimacy of people who shared far too many secrets.
Eryn followed.
Silent.
Focused.
Coiled with rage he could not yet release.
Adrian reached an unmarked mahogany door—the old private negotiation lounge the Hart family rarely used.
He knocked twice.
The door opened.
A man's voice. Smooth. Controlled. Dangerous.
The fixer.
Vivianne slipped in first.
Adrian followed.
The fixer closed the door behind them with a soft, final click.
Eryn pressed himself into the shadows.
Not too close.
Not too far.
Just close enough to hear the ruin being built on the other side of that door.
He inhaled.
Then he listened.
The fixer spoke first, calm as polished steel.
"The financial papers are ready. Once Evangeline signs, all Hart assets will temporarily transfer to the Westwood family for 'stabilization.'"
Adrian exhaled shakily.
"She won't suspect anything. She still trusts me."
Vivianne laughed softly—silky, poisonous.
"Evangeline wants love more than money. That's what makes her breakable. Make her feel cherished again, and she'll sign anything."
Eryn's nails dug into his palms.
They were going to gut his sister's future.
Her reputation.
Her heart.
And they said it like discussing the weather.
The fixer continued, tapping something on a tablet.
"The fake financial reports are prepared. When leaked, it will appear Evangeline embezzled charity funds."
Adrian flinched.
"I still think—"
Vivianne cut in, voice dripping sweet malice.
"Please. This is the cleanest way. Society already sees her as too perfect. All it takes is one crack, and they'll devour her."
Adrian swallowed.
And didn't object.
Eryn's vision blurred with fury.
Framing Evangeline wasn't enough—they wanted to destroy her standing, her pride, her entire identity.
All because she loved too gently.
At last, Adrian whispered the words Eryn had been bracing for:
"And… her brother?"
A chilling pause.
The fixer answered:
"Eryn Hart is the only obstacle. Too protective. Too observant. Too loyal."
Vivianne's tone sharpened.
"We can't risk him interfering. Remove him."
Adrian whispered:
"No blood."
The fixer's voice remained cold.
"It won't look like blood. A malfunction. A collision. An unlit corner of the road. All systems prepared. One hit… and he dies cleanly and one of my men will deal with him."
Vivianne added gently—
too gently—
"Without him, Evangeline will collapse. And when she breaks, she'll cling to you."
Adrian said nothing.
He didn't have to.
His silence was agreement.
Eryn's chest rose sharply.
Heat flooded his veins.
Fury. Disbelief. Betrayal piercing bone-deep.
He wanted to tear the door from its hinges—
But he didn't.
He remembered Evangeline's shaking voice.
"Eryn… don't make a scene."
So he stayed still.
Invisible.
Listening to every detail of how they meant to kill him.
He slipped back before the door opened again.
Vivianne exited first, flawless smile intact.
Adrian followed, face smooth, expression empty.
The fixer left last, adjusting his suit like he hadn't just ordered a murder.
None noticed the shadow in the hallway.
Eryn waited.
Counted breaths.
Calmed fire.
Then turned—
Beep.
His wrist device flashed.
A message.
From no contact he knew.
"Do NOT use the east corridor. They planted sensors."
Eryn froze.
Another message arrived instantly:
"Take the service staircase. I disabled the cameras for 16 seconds. Move."
A prickle ran down his spine.
Someone was watching him.
No—not watching.
Protecting.
He obeyed, darting into the darkened stairwell.
A third message came the moment the door shut behind him:
"You don't remember me, Eryn Hart."
"But you're mine."
His breath caught.
The system auto-decrypted the signature:
A.N.
Aurelia Nightbourne.
The trillionaire heiress.
The prodigy hacker.
His childhood-arranged fiancée—
forgotten by him,
never forgotten by her.
AURELIA — SOMEWHERE FAR AWAY
Screens glowed in a dark penthouse.
A girl with silver hair tied in a messy ribbon leaned over multiple monitors, her expression annoyed and blushing all at once.
Aurelia Nightbourne—
Tsundere, genius, terrifyingly rich—
watched Eryn on a live feed.
"Honestly… you'd get yourself killed if I didn't save you."
Her fingers flew across the keyboard, deleting the conspirators' digital traces, rerouting GPS data, erasing Eryn's presence from every sensor.
"…But don't misunderstand."
She sipped her tea, cheeks pink.
"It's not like I'm doing this because I like you."
A pause.
Her eyes softened—barely.
"I'm doing it because you're mine. And I won't let anyone else touch you."
END OF CHAPTER 3