Chapter 5 The First Truth

Clara sat on the edge of her bed the next morning, staring at her phone as if it held the answers to every question clawing at her.

The mysterious message from last night still burned in her mind:

"Barrington will tell you the truth soon. But be careful. If Adrian finds out you're digging, he won't forgive you."

She tightened her grip on the device, her heart racing.

She had never been the type to sneak around. She hated lies, hated secrets. But Adrian wasn't giving her a choice. If he wouldn't tell her the truth, she would find it herself.

Her father's life might depend on it. Her own future certainly did.

She opened her messaging app and typed back to the unknown number, her hands trembling slightly.

Clara: When? Where can I meet Barrington?

The reply came almost instantly, as if the sender had been waiting.

Unknown: Noon today. Café Miro, private booth at the back. Come alone. Don't tell Adrian.

Clara swallowed hard, nerves tightening in her chest.

If Adrian found out...

Her eyes flicked to the closed door of her room. Somewhere in this massive mansion, Adrian was likely on another call, orchestrating his empire with that infuriating calm.

She would have to be careful.

Very careful.

By late morning, Clara had changed into a simple cream blouse and jeans - nothing flashy, nothing that would draw attention. She left her hair loose, hoping she would blend into the crowd outside.

When she reached the grand staircase, she paused, glancing around.

No Adrian.

Good.

She was halfway to the door when a deep voice stopped her.

"Going somewhere?"

Clara froze, her heart skipping painfully.

Adrian stood at the bottom of the stairs, leaning casually against the railing. He was dressed in another perfectly tailored suit, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he had run his hands through it in frustration.

But his eyes - sharp and unreadable - pinned her in place.

Clara forced a calm smile, her fingers tightening on the strap of her bag. "I was just... going for a walk. I need fresh air."

Adrian raised a brow, studying her. "A walk?"

"Yes."

For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Adrian's gaze swept over her - her casual clothes, the bag - as if he was weighing whether to believe her.

Finally, he nodded once. "Don't wander too far. And take one of the drivers."

Clara's stomach dropped. "I... I'd rather go alone."

Adrian's jaw tightened slightly. "Clara-"

"Please," she said quickly, softening her tone. "I just need some space. You've... taken over my entire life. Let me have an hour to myself."

For a split second, Adrian's expression softened, but then it hardened again.

"One hour," he said finally. "And keep your phone on."

Clara nodded quickly, forcing a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Adrian's gaze lingered on her as she walked past him, and she felt the weight of his suspicion trailing her until she stepped outside.

Once she was out of sight, she exhaled shakily.

---

Café Miro

Café Miro was tucked away on a quiet street, a cozy little place with warm wooden décor and the scent of fresh coffee filling the air.

Clara slipped inside, pulling her sunglasses lower. A waitress directed her to a private booth at the back, as the message had instructed.

Her pulse quickened when she spotted him.

Julian Barrington sat waiting, his expensive suit slightly rumpled, his expression sharp but cautious. He was younger than her father, maybe mid-thirties, with dark blond hair and calculating blue eyes.

Clara slid into the seat across from him, her heart pounding.

"Thank you for coming," he said, his voice low, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.

"I don't have much time," Clara said quickly. "What do you know about Adrian? About the accident?"

Barrington leaned back, studying her. "Straight to the point. I like that."

"Just tell me," Clara pressed, her hands gripping the table. "What happened five years ago? Why did Adrian marry me?"

Barrington's lips curved in a humorless smile. "Because you're part of his greatest regret."

Clara blinked, stunned. "What?"

Barrington's gaze sharpened. "Five years ago, Adrian Wolfe caused a car accident. A young woman died that night - a woman Adrian cared about. And the reason she was in that car was because of your father."

Clara felt the blood drain from her face. "My... my father?"

Barrington nodded. "Your father had business ties with the Whitmore family. Adrian believed - still believes - that your father's dealings indirectly led to that accident. So when he took you, it wasn't just about revenge against Daniel or me. It was personal. He wanted to punish your family."

Clara shook her head, her heart pounding painfully. "That doesn't make sense. My father would never-he's not that kind of man."

Barrington's expression didn't change. "Maybe he isn't. But Adrian doesn't care about the truth. He's spent five years building a plan to destroy everyone connected to that night. And you..." He paused, his gaze softening slightly. "You're the only part of his plan he didn't expect to matter to him."

Clara stared at him, her chest tightening. "What do you mean?"

Barrington sighed. "Adrian's obsessed with control. But you - you're the one thing he can't control. And that terrifies him."

Clara sat back, her mind spinning.

Adrian had stolen her life because of a tragedy she had nothing to do with. But if what Barrington said was true...

Adrian believed her father was somehow responsible for the death of a woman he had loved.

The weight of that truth crashed over her like a wave.

"Why are you telling me this?" Clara whispered.

Barrington's smile was bitter. "Because Adrian isn't the hero he wants you to think he is. And because..." His gaze turned sharp again. "If you're smart, you'll leave him before he destroys you, too."

Clara swallowed hard, her throat tight.

She didn't answer.

Before she could ask anything else, Barrington's gaze flicked past her, and his expression changed instantly.

Clara turned - and her heart stopped.

Adrian stood at the entrance of the café, his tall frame unmistakable even among the crowd. His dark eyes swept the room, cold and sharp, until they landed on her.

For a split second, Adrian's gaze locked with hers.

Clara's stomach dropped.

The air between them seemed to thicken as he started toward her, each step deliberate, controlled - and furious.

Barrington leaned back, smirking slightly, as if he had expected this.

"Well," he murmured under his breath. "This should be interesting."

Clara's heart pounded painfully as Adrian reached their table, his jaw tight, his eyes like steel.

"Clara," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "Care to explain why you're here?"