Chapter 60 OLD SINS
POV: Selena
I walked in the room and everyone looked like they had been holding their breath for too long.
Adrian stood near the window, phone pressed to his ear, listening without speaking. Marcus paced the length of the suite, running a hand through his hair every few steps. Victoria sat rigid on the couch, her hands folded so tightly her knuckles had gone pale.
I wanted one clear answer. One moment of certainty.
Instead, I felt like I had stepped into the middle of a storm that had been building for decades.
Adrian ended the call and turned to me. “My father wants to see us. Now.”
Something in his voice told me this was not a request.
We didn’t speak on the drive to the hospital. I watched the city pass by, lights blurring into long streaks, trying to slow my thoughts. Tomorrow we were supposed to be married. Tomorrow was supposed to change everything. Instead, it felt like the ground was still shifting beneath us.
The senator was awake when we entered his room. He looked more alert than he had earlier, though the lines on his face seemed deeper, carved by things that had never been spoken aloud.
“Close the door,” he said.
Adrian did. I stood beside him, close enough to feel the heat of his arm through the thin space between us.
“You deserve the truth,” the senator said, looking at both of us. “All of it.”
I nodded once. I didn’t trust my voice.
“Thirty years ago,” he began, “I took a bribe.”
The words were simple. The weight behind them was not.
“It was early in my career,” he continued. “I told myself it was a one time thing. A favor. A compromise for the greater good.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“It wasn’t,” the senator said. “It became a hook. One that Judge Ashford never let go of.”
I felt cold, though the room was warm.
“He kept the proof,” the senator went on. “Bank records. Witness statements. A paper trail I was foolish enough to believe I had erased.”
“So he’s been controlling you,” Adrian said.
“Guiding me,” the senator replied. “Pressuring me. Making suggestions that were never really suggestions.”
I thought of every decision that had shaped Adrian’s life. Every alliance. Every door that had quietly closed.
“This is why you pushed Diana,” Adrian said.
“Yes,” his father answered. “Ashford made it clear. His silence in exchange for family ties.”
The room felt smaller.
“And Thornton?” I asked.
The senator looked at me then, really looked at me. “Thornton learned about the scandal two years ago. Ashford shared it with him.”
“For leverage,” Marcus said grimly.
“For control,” the senator agreed. “They realized together they could dismantle this family from both sides.”
Adrian let out a breath, sharp and controlled. “So this whole thing. The forged documents. The leaks. The attacks. It was coordinated.”
“Yes,” his father said. “A long game.”
I felt something settle into place inside me, a grim kind of clarity. None of this had been random. None of it had been about me alone.
“They used me as bait,” I said quietly.
“Yes,” the senator said. “And I am sorry.”
Adrian turned to me, his expression fierce. “This ends now.”
Before anyone could respond, Marcus’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then froze.
“Turn on the television,” he said.
Now.
Adrian grabbed the remote and switched it on.
The screen lit up instantly, sound already blaring.
“Breaking news tonight,” the anchor said, voice sharp with excitement. “Sources confirm that Adrian De Luca is set to marry a mysterious intern tomorrow in what insiders are calling a rushed and suspicious union.”
Images flashed across the screen. Photos of Adrian and me walking into the hospital. Blurry shots from outside the penthouse. A still image of me stepping out of a car, head down.
“And now,” the anchor continued, “a bombshell allegation. Sources close to the De Luca family claim the wedding is being accelerated to conceal an unplanned pregnancy.”
My ears rang.
The headline burned across the screen in bold letters.
BREAKING: Adrian De Luca to Marry Mystery Intern Tomorrow. Shotgun Wedding to Hide Pregnancy.
I couldn’t breathe.
“That’s impossible,” I said, though my voice sounded far away. “I’m not—”
“I know,” Adrian said immediately, turning toward me. His hands found my shoulders, steady and grounding. “I know.”
Marcus swore under his breath. “Ashford.”
“And Thornton,” Adrian added. “Together.”
Victoria stood, her face pale. “They’re trying to humiliate you. To destroy her credibility before she can speak.”
I stared at the screen, at the way my life had been reduced to speculation and cruelty in less than a minute.
“They’re changing the narrative,” I said. “Making me look reckless. Making us look guilty.”
“Yes,” Marcus said. “If the public doubts you, they’ll doubt everything you’ve said.”
The senator watched silently, his eyes filled with something that looked like regret.
“This is my fault,” he said.
“No,” Adrian replied. “It’s theirs.”
I pulled away gently, walking closer to the television. The anchor was still talking, still smiling.
“They want me to disappear,” I said. “Or stay silent.”
Adrian came to stand beside me. “Not happening.”
“But this changes things,” I said. “If I testify now, they’ll say I’m doing it to protect you. Or myself.”
“And if you don’t,” Marcus said, “they control the story.”
I turned back to the senator. “What else do they have?”
He hesitated.
“Tell us,” Adrian said.
“They have enough,” his father admitted. “Enough to drag us through months of investigation. Enough to make people doubt.”
“But not enough to convict,” Marcus said slowly.
“Not if we move first,” Adrian replied.
I looked at him, really looked at him. The man I loved. The man who had been fighting ghosts he never knew existed.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
He met my gaze. “We tell the truth. All of it. Tomorrow.”
I felt a surge of fear, sharp and immediate. “At the wedding?”
“At the wedding,” he confirmed. “With cameras. With witnesses. With no room for them to twist it quietly.”
Victoria inhaled sharply. “That would be unprecedented.”
“So was this,” Adrian said, gesturing at the screen.
Marcus nodded slowly. “It could work. If we control the timing.”
“And if they don’t escalate first,” I said.
Adrian took my hands. “Look at me.”
I did.
“They think they know our weakness,” he said. “They think it’s you. Or me. Or this marriage.”
His thumbs brushed over my knuckles, grounding me in the chaos.
“They’re wrong,” he continued. “Our strength is that we’re not lying.”
I swallowed. “They won’t stop.”
“No,” he agreed. “But neither will we.”
The senator closed his eyes, exhaustion finally breaking through his composure. “Then do what I should have done years ago,” he said. “End it.”
I looked at the man who had shaped so much of this story without ever meaning to.
“We will,” I said.
The television continued to talk behind us, filling the room with noise and speculation.
Tomorrow was supposed to be about love. About commitment. About choosing each other.
Now it was something else entirely.
A reckoning.
And somewhere out there, Judge Ashford and Senator Thornton were watching, convinced they had won.
They had no idea what we were about to do next.