I didn’t bother looking at him, my gaze glued to the blur outside the window. My mind was stuck on the chaos—the kidnapper dragging me to the hospital, the world going dark.
It was crystal clear now: Bella had done it again. Framed me, twisted everything to make herself the “victim,” all while Adrian ate it up. This wasn’t the first time—and it sure wouldn’t be the last.
It felt like we were magnets with opposite charges, always clashing, always pulling each other into disaster. And Adrian? He was the iron, helplessly spinning around her. To him, every lie, every scheme, was just more evidence of her fragile charm. No matter how obvious her manipulations were, he always sided with her.
And me? All I ever got was the same old, cold line: “Stop making a scene. Look at what you’ve become.”
