Yours, Still
The VIP room door swung violently open, slamming against the wall with a deafening crash.
Celeste gasped. Her tear-stained face snapped toward the sound, eyes widening in disbelief. "Adrian..." she whispered, like a prayer she never expected would be answered.
Adrian stood at the doorway, frozen for a second as his gaze scanned the scene.
Celeste—his Celeste—was tied, her dress disheveled and barely clinging to her body. Her wrists were red and raw from the restraints. A strip of cloth hung loosely around her neck, and her tousled hair stuck to her damp cheeks. She was trembling, crying, helpless—and beside her was him.
That man. That bastard. His filthy hands were on her. One hand gripping her waist, the other fumbling to unzip her dress.
Everything inside Adrian snapped.
With a roar, he stormed forward, fury exploding in his veins. He grabbed the man—Derek Valencia, the entitled, spoiled heir from a rival family—and hurled him across the room like he was weightless.
Derek crashed into the side table, groaning in pain.
Adrian didn't care. He was already shrugging off his coat and kneeling beside Celeste, gently covering her trembling form.
Her breath hitched when she felt the warmth of the coat around her shoulders.
Adrian's hands were surprisingly tender as he pulled the fabric close around her.
But when Celeste looked up, all she saw in his face was rage.
Adrian turned back to Derek, who was coughing and trying to sit up. Adrian lunged.
A punch. A second. Then a kick to his ribs.
"You disgusting piece of shit!" Adrian's voice was gravel, venomous. He stomped on Derek's hand. The bones crunched beneath his sole. "This the hand you touched her with? Huh? This one?! I'll break it—I'll fucking break it!"
Derek screamed.
Outside, people were already reacting to the noise, but no one dared intervene. Ethan was the first to barge in, followed by Emily.
"Adrian! Adrian, stop!" Ethan grabbed his arm. "You'll kill him!"
"He 'touched' her!" Adrian growled, shaking Ethan off.
"He'll face the consequences," Ethan snapped, placing himself between Adrian and Derek. "But you need to help Celeste. Now."
That did it.
Adrian's eyes darted back to Celeste, who was curled up on the couch, still trembling.
Breathing hard, Adrian stepped back. Blood stained his knuckles.
Ethan crouched beside Derek, who was whimpering and trying to speak. "Stay down," Ethan hissed. "You're done."
Emily looked horrified, but she followed Ethan as he hauled Derek away, shouting for security and management.
And just like that, they were gone.
Leaving only Celeste and Adrian in the shattered silence.
Adrian moved slowly toward her, like approaching a wounded animal. "Celeste..." His voice cracked.
She flinched at his touch, but didn't pull away.
"I'm here now," he murmured. "You're safe."
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I was so scared," she admitted in a whisper.
Adrian's heart broke again. He gathered her in his arms and she didn't resist.
"I've got you," he whispered, holding her like she'd slip away if he let go. "I won't let anyone hurt you again."
He carried her out of the bar, gently shielding her from the crowd and the flashing lights of the cameras. The world blurred around them. None of it mattered.
Only her.
—
That night, in Adrian's home—the house that once belonged to both of them—Celeste sat curled on the sofa, still wrapped in Adrian's coat.
She hadn't spoken much since they arrived. Adrian had cleaned her wounds, offered her water, called a doctor she refused to see. Now, he knelt in front of her, looking at the raw red marks on her wrists.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.
Celeste said nothing. She just stared at the floor, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
Adrian took her hand carefully. "You can cry, Celeste. You don't have to hold it in."
That broke something in her. She sniffled, and the sobs escaped her throat like a dam bursting.
Adrian held her, cradling her to his chest as she cried. "I'm sorry," he whispered again and again. "I'm so sorry. I won't let anyone bully you again. Not ever."
Celeste shook her head, voice muffled against him. "No... I'll handle it. I don't need you to protect me."
Adrian pulled back, frowning. "Celeste—"
"I'm thankful you saved me," she said, finally meeting his eyes. "But it's not your job anymore. I'm on my own now. I have to protect myself... because I can't rely on you."
Adrian looked like she had slapped him.
"I'm not saying this to hurt you," she continued, her voice trembling. "But this is how it has to be. I need to be strong. For myself."
Adrian clenched his fists. "This isn't the time to be stubborn."
"We're divorced, Adrian."
"I'm not dead," he snapped.
Celeste blinked.
"I'm still here," he said, softer now. "Still breathing. Still madly in love with you. And I won't let anyone—anyone—hurt you again."
Her lips trembled. "You already hurt me the most."
Silence.
"If I need protection from anyone..." she said, her voice breaking, "it's you."
Adrian's face crumbled. She had said it without venom, without anger—just truth. And it shattered him.
She stood then, gently pulling away from his arms.
"I want to be alone tonight," she whispered.
Adrian stared at her. His throat moved like he wanted to say something—don't push me away again, maybe, or please—but he said nothing.
He gave her one last look. One last silent ache.
And then he turned.
And left her alone in the house that used to be theirs.