Page 20 of Cruel Hero

This push and pull is going to kill me, I think as I pour water into a glass.

As I walk back into the room, Tiffany says, “Adrien, you don’t have to do this for me. I understand you’re busy, and you’ve made it clear that you want nothing to do with me.”

“I never said that,” I correct her, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table. I sit down next to her, our legs touching briefly before I pull away.

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... I don’t know what I’m doing.”

I take a deep breath and lean back against the couch, trying to sort out my thoughts.

First, I need to know what happened to Tiffany and why she needed to reach out to me. Then, we can talk about feelings.

“Were your guards with you?” I motion toward the scratches on her face.

“No, I was alone.”

Frustration builds up inside of me as I stand and pace around the room. “Why on earth would you do that? Do you realize the kind of people your uncle was involved with? Do you want to get yourself killed?”

I’ve asked Luis to lay low, to keep an eye on her. But she’s being reckless. It’s unbelievable that she would endanger herself like that.

Despite being on the verge of a breakdown just five minutes ago, Tiffany keeps her voice calm and steady. “I was alone because you had my driver kidnapped and traumatized. When I returned home, I gave him three months off to recover. I also figured that my uncle’s business partners would be perceptive enough not to harm me if they wanted something. And it turns out I was right.”

I shake my head, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. “Then I don’t know why you came to me. I’m glad you’re alright, but there’s nothing I can do for you if you continue putting yourself in danger like this. I can’t protect you from everything, Tiffany.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just need your help to figure out what my uncle has promised to those people and what they might be planning to do next. You have connections and resources that I don’t. Please, Adrien, I need your help.”

My eyes narrow. “Two days ago, you told me to leave you alone. Why should I help you now, angel? For your pretty face?”

“I need you.” Desperation creeps into her voice. “Is that not enough for you?”

“Your Prince Charming is the one who should be protecting you, not me. Why don’t you turn to him for help?”

Tiffany’s lips curl into a humorless smile. “You made me feel safe. Treasured. I’m afraid, and you’re the only one who can bring me that sense of security again. I can’t ask for help from someone who doesn’t even know me, who won’t ever understand me.”

A surge of anger and possessiveness washes over me, but there is also a hint of satisfaction. At least she acknowledges that I make her feel safe. I struggle to keep my composure in the face of such a confession from her.

My voice comes out rough as I ask, “What’s in it for me?”

“My gratitude. You owe me anyway. I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.”

“Me?”

“You think I don’t know about Dean? His death?”

Tiffany’s words hang in the air like a guillotine, sharp and heavy. The room feels colder suddenly, the shadows stretching longer across the walls.

She knows.

Tiffany knows I’m responsible for her uncle’s death.

“You think I had something to do with Dean’s death?” I ask, my voice low and measured, though my pulse is racing. I take a step closer to her, towering over her as she sits on the couch. Her chin lifts, refusing to back down.

“I know you did.”

Her expression is unreadable—not angry, not hurt, just… waiting. Waiting for me to confirm what she already knows.

“How long have you known?”

“I started piecing it together after Dean’s death. The timing was too convenient. The way you stepped in, the way you protected me. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots.”

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