His version of it.
And I ran from it.
I got scared and I fucking ruined it.
Yet I believe this part of him is still there somewhere. Adrien thinks so too, I can tell.
However, the frustration of Kasien’s silence now is eating me alive. Why is he avoiding me? Why hasn’t he come to see me once? What does he actually want from me?
Adrien takes me on a detour through the manor, skipping the second wing. He doesn’t have to say anything, it obviously belongs to Kasien.
The manor is stunning. In that old-money, luxury,Russian-literature-nightmarekind of way. We pass the lobby and step into a massive kitchen. Sleek marble counters, industrial stove, enough space to feed an army.
Except it’s empty. Silent. No staff. No woman humming over a pot. No clatter.
“Where is everyone?” I mutter, scanning the spotless surfaces. “Does anybody actually live here? Or do the ghosts cook?”
Adrien huffs a laugh. “We get food delivered. We don’t keep a big staff.”
“No women at all? Not even one?” It slips out before I can think. The whole place feels like a testosterone bunker.
Adrien shrugs. “We don’t like having women around.”
I stop dead and stare at him. “Excuse me?”
He lifts his palms like he expected that reaction.
“Not like that. We just—” Adrien searches for words. “It’s unsafe here. It puts everyone nearby at risk. We don’t want civilians caught in anything.”
Oh. Of course. My inner feminist deflates.
“That’s actually surprisingly considerate,” I retort, then narrow my eyes. “Still sexist. But considerate.”
Adrien snorts. “Believe me, women can handle themselves better than most men here. That’s not the issue.”
I don’t want to ask, but my brain does it anyway.
“So he never has girls over?”
Adrien’s smirk is immediate and evil. “I said women don’tlivehere. I didn’t say they don’t visit, Troubles.”
A cold shiver slashes down my spine. Images I absolutely did not request enter my brain.
No. Nope. Delete. Burn that thought.
I force my eyes forward just in time for him to guide me into another hall.
“And this is the gym,” he adds.
My breath actually catches.
The entire far wall is glass. A panoramic view into a fog-covered garden. Black gazebo veined with ivy. Lanterns glowing like floating embers. Moonlight turning everything silver.
It looks unreal, like a cursed fairy tale.
The rest of the gym is sleek. Black walls, dim lighting, equipment spaced perfectly, purple LEDs trimming the floor. And the air smells like expensive cologne. For a second, I just stand there staring like an idiot.
“You want to exercise?”
