Chapter 59

Adrian’s POV

The memories I had kept buried—the truth I had locked away with chains and lies—rose up again, vivid and merciless.

The night Damien’s accident happened.

My breath hitched, and I dragged my fingers across my face, trying to steady the panic thumping through me. It had been a perfect plan. My plan. A plan I justified a thousand times because I believed I deserved better. Because Damien had been the golden boy, the one everyone loved, the one Grandfather trusted more, the one employees bowed to, the one women wanted, the one investors respected.

And I was… just Adrian. Smart, yes. Capable, yes. But always second. Always the shadow, never the flame.

I closed my eyes and the memory slammed into me.

It had started two months before Damien’s accident. I remembered sitting in my office, staring at the long-awaited email from the board—the email confirming that Damien was about to be named the next CEO of Blackwood Industries. Not me. Not even as a joint successor. Just Damien.

I laughed then. A bitter, hollow laugh that echoed in the empty room.

All the years I had worked, all the sacrifices I had made… and still, he won. Without even trying.

That night, I met with the stranger. I couldn’t even remember how I found him—someone had whispered his name at a bar, someone who knew someone who specialized in “delicate problems.” His face was forgettable, his voice flat, his demands simple.

I remembered handing him the envelope with trembling fingers, pretending the shaking came from excitement—not fear. Not guilt.

It was supposed to be easy. A crash that would leave Damien injured just long enough for the board to reconsider the CEO announcement. Long enough for me to rise while he healed. Long enough for the world to see that Adrian Blackwood wasn’t second best.

But not… this.

Not a wheelchair.

Not a lifetime of pain.

And definitely not the cold distance Damien built between us afterward, the look in his eyes whenever he caught me staring too long… as if he sensed something off.

The accident had not gone as planned. The stranger—damn him—had hit Damien’s car too hard, pushed him too fast, and the vehicle had somersaulted off the edge of the service road. I had watched the news that night with trembling hands, sweat pooling under my arms as the reporter described the crash.

“Crippled billionaire heir,” the news headline read the next morning. And my stomach had churned so violently I almost threw up.

The stranger vanished after sending a final message:

“Job done. Don’t call again.”

I had deleted everything. Burned the notebook. Wash the clothes. Buried the guilt.

For a while, I convinced myself it was fate. That Damien would still live. That he would still run the company—just differently. That no one had truly lost.

But I had lost.

Because the moment he returned to the mansion after months in the hospital, I saw it in his eyes. The light was gone. Damien wasn’t Damien anymore. And neither was I.

A choked sound crawled out of my throat as I rolled out of bed and walked toward the window. The mansion grounds were quiet. The night sky stretched endlessly, mocking me with its calmness.

If only Ava knew who she was living with.

If only Damien knew the monster he called his cousin.

But I wasn’t finished. Not yet.

Damien had refused to crumble. He refused to lie in bed and give up. He built a new life from that wheelchair. He ran the company better than ever. Investors loved him even more—now he was the inspiring billionaire who overcame tragedy.

Every day he won.

Every day I lost.

I didn’t know when admiration twisted to envy, or envy to hate. But by the time Ava came into the picture, I had stopped pretending I was capable of letting go.

She was perfect—too perfect. Too innocent, too honest. And that was why she was dangerous. She made Damien softer, calmer, more focused. She gave him something I didn’t want him to have, hope.

A man with hope was a man who could not be destroyed.

So I made a new plan. Simpler, easier, one that didn’t involve strangers or roads or blood. One that involved her. Ava.

I would use her innocence against Damien. Make him believe she betrayed him. Sleep with her if I had to—or make it look like she did. Get evidence. Destroy Damien emotionally since his body had already been broken. And then the board would finally see that Damien wasn’t fit to lead. That he couldn’t trust people. That he was reckless.

They would turn to me.

Their only choice.

But then… something went wrong. Terribly wrong.

I fell for her.

Somewhere between watching her confusion, her kindness, her stubbornness, the fire in her eyes when she challenged Damien… she became someone I couldn’t control. Someone I couldn’t manipulate as easily as I thought. Someone who made my chest tighten with emotions I didn’t want.

Ava was meant to be a tool. A pawn.

Instead, she became a poison—one that corroded my resolve bit by bit, leaving me confused and furious at myself.

Yet even with all the feelings I pretended not to recognize, Damien’s shadow lingered. The plan continued. The lies continued. Because if the truth came out—if Damien ever discovered what really happened that night—my life would end before I even had time to beg for mercy.

I leaned my forehead against the cold glass of the window, my breath fogging the surface.

Why couldn’t Damien just break the way he was supposed to? Why couldn’t he stay down? Why did he have to fight his way back into power? Why did he have to keep winning?

And why, of all people in the world, did Ava have to look at him the way I had always wanted someone to look at me?

She would never look at me like that.

Not if she knew what I had done.

A sudden noise in the hallway dragged me out of my thoughts. Footsteps. Light, careful. Ava?

My chest tightened.

If she walked in right now and asked me what was wrong, maybe I would confess. Maybe I would fall apart in her arms. Maybe I would beg her not to judge me.

But she didn’t come in.

The footsteps faded.

And I was left alone again—with my regret, my fear, my jealousy, and the truth that would someday ruin everything.

I swallowed hard and straightened.

It wasn’t over yet. Damien still trusted her. Ava still cared for him. The plan wasn’t dead… not completely.

But neither was my guilt.

Or my love.

Two forces pulling me apart slowly, painfully, the way a man is torn limb from limb.

One day, Damien would know what I did.

One day, Ava would know who I truly was.

And on that day…

Everything would burn.