Chapter 34 #4
“She died? Was it the drugs? An overdose?”
Christian looks at me for a long moment. So long, I think he won’t answer.
Then he says, quietly, “No.”
I blink. “Then how?”
“Takotsubo cardiomyopathy,” he says, and he must see the confusion on my face because after a beat, he adds, “it’s what doctors call a stress-induced heart failure. Sometimes it’s triggered by grief. Trauma. Loss.”
He glances at me, and for a moment, something cracks behind his expression.
“She died of a broken heart, Adeline.”
The world stills around me.
I don’t know how long I stand there, staring at nothing. Maybe seconds. Maybe longer.
A broken heart.
Irina Steele died of a broken heart.
And my father… he was the reason.
“Irina was already fragile by the end,” Christian says, his voice low. “The drugs didn’t help. But after your father… and Wren… she just couldn’t survive it. Not emotionally. And eventually, not physically. She loved your father,” Christian says simply. “Enough that it killed her.”
I don’t say anything.
I can’t.
The cold finally starts to register again, creeping in through my sleeves, my collar. But it’s distant somehow, like my body’s here, but the rest of me isn’t.
I swallow hard, but it sticks in my throat. “Why are you telling me this now?”
He’s quiet for a second. Then: “Because you deserve to know. And because he won’t.”
I don’t need to ask who he means.
Kai.
“My father killed Wren, didn’t he?” My voice is low, trembling. “He… he crashed into her.”
Christian’s gaze snaps to me so fast it makes me flinch. His face pales just slightly, and for the first time since we stepped outside, he looks completely thrown.
“How do you know that?”
I glance down, my foot scraping over a patch of frost on the path. “I figured it out. Well… I had some help.”
His brow furrows.
“In the beginning,” I admit, my throat tight, “the stalker practically showed me where to look. Which I thought was weird since they were also warning me not to at the same time.”
Christian’s jaw works, the muscle in his cheek twitching once, hard. His eyes narrow, causing sharp lines to form between his brows. “They warned you away?”
I nod.
And for a long beat, he doesn’t say anything.
But I can see he’s working something out. His jaw tightens, twitching once as he stares at the gravel in front of us intensely.
“Christian,” I say cautiously. “What is it?”
For a moment, he just stares at me. Really stares. Like he’s searching for something, tracing lines on my face that I can’t see myself. And whatever it is he finds, it seems to trouble him.
But then, just as quickly, he looks away. The walls go back up.
He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says.
But it doesn’t feel like nothing.
Not at all.
“Adeline?”
My head snaps up at the sound of his voice. The way he says it so carefully. So cautiously.
For a second, I think he’s about to say it. That somehow, he’s figured it out. That this is the end.
But he doesn’t say anything like that.
“Did you tell Kai exactly what you just told me?” he asks me instead.
I blink. “What?”
Christian takes a slow step forward, his voice more serious now. “Did you tell Kai exactly what you just told me?”
“Yes,” I say slowly, frowning. “Shouldn’t I have?”
He’s silent at first, his eyes narrowing a fraction. “When?” he asks.
I shift on my feet. “What?”
“When did you tell him?” he repeats, more serious now.
I swallow. “That day you dropped me back home.”
He closes his eyes for a moment. Just briefly. But when he opens them again, he’s suddenly guarded again. Any trace of worry, gone.
“What?” I ask, tension creeping into my voice now. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Christian takes a breath through his nose and glances toward the house, toward the tall peaks of the estate roof in the distance. “Let’s go back,” he says instead. “It’s cold. I’ll ask Merrick to take you back to Lilia’s.”
That’s when I know something is definitely wrong.
I stop walking. “Christian.”
He keeps going, just a few steps, before turning back to face me.
“Why are you suddenly acting like this?” I ask, brow furrowing. “What happened?”
His jaw tightens. And then, with that same calm, clipped tone, he says, “Just trust me, Adeline. It’s better if you leave for now. It’s not safe for you here.”
***
Back in the room, I pack quietly.
The bag Christian gave me is on the bed, half-open, as I stuff in my old clothes. They still smell a little like the Steele house, I realize.
I move on autopilot. Fold, press, zip. My fingers snag slightly on the edge of the black jumper I wore when I was being chased. I hesitate before shoving it inside. There’s a smudge of dried blood on the sleeve. Mine.
On the nightstand, I gather the blister packs the doctor left behind. Painkillers. Antibiotics. Something else I’ve already forgotten. I toss them into a side pocket and try not to think about why I need them.
But it’s hard to focus. Because my mind’s still back there. Back with Christian, and the look on his face.
Had he really figured something out?
And what did Kai have anything to do with it?
What isn’t he telling me?
I tug the zip shut, cinching the top of the bag. My fingers linger on the handle for a beat too long. I turn toward the door. Take a breath. Grip the knob.
And pause.
There are voices coming from down the hall. Tense ones.
I wouldn’t have paid attention, would’ve just assumed it to be staff or someone on the phone, but then I hear my name.
And the moment I do, I stop dead in my tracks.
The smart thing would be to leave. Just open the door, step out, and disappear down the driveway with Merrick, without looking back.
But I don’t.
I stay.
The floorboards are colder than I remember as I step into the hall. The voices lead me past the library, past the dark-panelled walls, and into what I assume is the study.
I stop just outside of it, barely breathing.
The door’s slightly ajar, but I don’t dare look through it.
“…didn’t have to tell her,” Kai says.
His voice is tight. Contained. But not calm.
“You know I did,” Christian replies. “She deserves to know.”
Silence.
Or maybe not silence. Maybe they’re just too quiet for me to hear now.
And then a crash comes that makes me jolt.
Wood on wood, maybe. A chair shoved. A fist against something.
“What are you doing, Kai?” Christian asks, and it’s quieter now. Not angry. Just… tired. “What are your real intentions with keeping her by your side?”
A breath, and Kai answers cooly. “What makes you think I have other intentions?” A pause. “Perhaps I just like her.”
More silence.
Christian’s voice again, flat this time. “We both know that’s not true.”
I press my back against the wall, fingers curling against the wood. My pulse trips over itself.
And then, something inside my chest burns. A slow flare behind my ribs.
My heart, I realize.
Christian speaks again, and this time, I don’t think he means for it to sound like an accusation, but it does.
“You think her stalker is the same person who messed with John’s car? Is that why you’re doing all of this?”
My breath catches, and I feel it seize in my chest like I’ve been punched.
What? My father’s car?
The hallway spins just slightly, like the words have knocked something loose in me. Because I’d asked myself that same question a hundred times. How? How could my father, who’d always been an excellent driver, crash?
Into a tree. When the roads were completely clear.
They said it was an accident.
But something in me had never believed it.
I hear Christian speak again after a long silence, sounding horrified. “My god, Kai. What have you done?” Christian’s voice comes again after a beat, louder this time. Rougher. “What is wrong with you? Where is your sense of morality?”
And then Kai speaks. Soft. Almost bored. Like he’s correcting a child.
“There is no such thing.”
Unable to stand any more, I push off the wall before I can talk myself out of it, and step into the doorway.
“My father was murdered?” I say, my voice shaking.
Christian turns fast, eyes widening when he sees me. “Adeline—”
But Kai… Kai doesn’t move. He doesn’t even flinch. His expression stays exactly the same, like he already knew I was there.
Christian looks from me to Kai, then back again. “You shouldn’t have heard that.”
“But I did,” I whisper. “And you didn’t answer me. Was he murdered?”
Christian hesitates. And it’s the kind of pause that gives everything away before he even opens his mouth. The kind that says yes without saying the word.
He sighs, running a hand down his face. “We didn’t want to involve you until we were sure. We’re still not. But… yes. We think someone tampered with his brakes.”
I blink. “What?”
“They were cut,” Christian says tightly. “Clean. Whoever did it knew exactly what they were doing. It was subtle and meant to fail gradually. On the highway, with enough speed, the car would lose control. It did.”
The room goes blurry for a second. I don’t know if it’s my eyes or my brain shutting down.
“The crash,” I say slowly, “it wasn’t an accident.”
“No,” Christian admits. “It was planned.”
And suddenly it feels like everything in me is splintering.
All this time… I thought I was mourning an accident. A tragedy. A mistake.
But it wasn’t. It never was.
I look at Kai, at that unreadable, too-calm face of his.
He’s known. All along.
And he never told me.
“Is that why you covered it up?” I ask, and I don’t bother softening the edge in my voice. I’m not even sure I could if I tried. The fury is there, burning up my throat, and I let it come.
I look between them. They don’t say anything. Not until it becomes painfully clear that Kai has no intention of answering me.
Christian exhales. “No. Gabriel was forced to.”
At that, Kai’s head turns slowly. His stare slices sideways like a blade, landing hard on Christian. A warning, I realize.
But Christian doesn’t flinch. He keeps going.
“Not long after the accident,” he says carefully, “Gabriel received photos. Of Wren. She was holding something, some kind of drugs she’d bought. That kind of thing… the press would have eaten alive.”
My stomach twists.
“He was blackmailed. The message was clear. If he didn’t shut the investigation down, didn’t bury it, those photos would go public.”
“For the Steeles,” Christian adds, quieter now, “image is everything.”
The silence that follows is heavy. I glance at Kai again, but he hasn’t moved. Not a word.
Just… nothing.
It hurts more than I’d like to admit.
I shift my gaze back to Christian. “But why was Wren buying drugs in the first place?”
Christian presses his lips together, then shrugs. “No one
knows.”