Chapter Nine

The storm had passed, but its ghost lingered in the heavy air, thick with humidity and the distant scent of salt. Juniper sat by the massive four-poster bed, watching Adrian's chest rise and fall in uneven breaths. His skin was pale, damp with sweat, his usually sharp features softened by exhaustion.

The fever had taken hold quickly, one moment he'd been standing in the boardroom, defiant in the face of his ousting, and the next, he had collapsed, his body finally surrendering to the relentless pressure.

Now, he was barely conscious.

Juniper dipped a cloth into the cool water beside her, wrung it out, and pressed it against his forehead. He let out a quiet sigh, shifting slightly toward her touch.

It was unsettling to see him like this. Adrian Blackwood was always in control, always commanding. Seeing him vulnerable and weak did something strange to her chest.

He murmured something incoherent.

She leaned in. "Adrian?"

His lashes fluttered.

"Stay," he rasped.

Juniper hesitated.

She should leave. She should walk away before she got sucked in deeper, before her heart tangled itself in something she couldn't untangle from.

But she didn't move.

Instead, she reached for his hand.

His fingers twitched, then curled around hers.

"You're burning up," she whispered.

He gave a half-smile, eyes still closed. "You always say that."

A lump formed in her throat.

She didn't realize she was stroking his knuckles until his grip tightened.

"Juniper," he mumbled, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Her breath hitched. "Yeah?"

His brows furrowed as if struggling to find words.

Then, barely audible—

"I love you."

She froze.

The words hung between them, fragile as glass.

She stared at him, her pulse hammering, but he was already drifting again, lost in fevered sleep.

Her grip on his hand tightened, as if she could somehow hold back everything threatening to unravel.

But she couldn't.

Because those three words had already shattered everything.

The knock on the door came just as Juniper was about to press the cold cloth to his forehead again.

She startled.

The estate was locked down. No one should be here.

Her heartbeat spiked as she stood, glancing at Adrian still fevered, still helpless and then toward the door.

The knock came again, sharper this time.

Then a voice.

Cool. Feminine.

Laced with amusement.

"Juniper."

Juniper stiffened.

The voice sent a chill down her spine.

She knew who it was before she even opened the door.

But she wasn't prepared for the sight of Isla Lancaster standing there, perfectly poised in a tailored white dress, a smirk curling her lips.

Juniper's stomach clenched.

"Adrian's mine," Isla said smoothly, stepping inside as if she owned the place.

Juniper didn't move. "Excuse me?"

Isla arched a brow. "Did I stutter?"

She glanced toward the bed, where Adrian lay unconscious.

Then back at Juniper.

Her smirk deepened.

"Walk away, darling," she said, voice dripping with condescension. "Or I'll bury your nonprofit so deep, no one will remember it ever existed."

Juniper's fingers curled into fists.

She should have expected this. Of course Isla wouldn't just disappear quietly.

Juniper forced herself to breathe. "You don't own him."

Isla chuckled. "No. But I do own you."

She slid a folder onto the desk.

Juniper eyed it warily.

"Contracts," Isla said lazily. "Legal documents. Bank records." She tilted her head. "Do you know how quickly your nonprofit's funding came through? How effortless it was?"

Juniper's pulse pounded.

No.

No, she hadn't questioned it. She'd been so overwhelmed by the sudden influx of support, she'd assumed it was a miracle.

But miracles didn't exist.

Especially not in Adrian Blackwood's world.

"You funded it," Juniper breathed.

"Not me," Isla corrected, smiling. "Adrian."

Juniper's throat tightened.

Her mind spun.

She turned back to Adrian, still pale, still helpless, still the liar she had tried to believe in.

Anger, raw and sharp, surged through her.

He had done this behind her back.

Kept her in the dark.

Again.

Juniper's nails dug into her palm.

She turned back to Isla.

And smiled.

"Nice try," she said, forcing her voice to stay even.

Isla's smirk faltered.

Juniper picked up the folder, flipping through it.

It was damning, yes. But too perfect.

And if she had learned anything about Isla Lancaster, it was that the woman played dirty.

"You wanted me to find this," Juniper murmured. "Why?"

Isla didn't flinch. "It's the truth."

"Maybe." Juniper looked up. "Or maybe it's a distraction."

For the first time, Isla's mask cracked—just slightly.

And that was all Juniper needed.

She smiled.

"You think you can scare me into leaving?" she mused. "Destroy my nonprofit? Ruin everything I've built?"

She stepped closer, eyes burning.

"You underestimate me."

Isla's expression darkened. "Careful, sweetheart."

But Juniper wasn't backing down.

"You're scared," she said, voice soft, lethal. "That's why you're here. You know Adrian doesn't love you. You know you already lost."

Isla's jaw clenched.

And then—

Her smirk returned, slow and vicious.

"Maybe," she murmured. "But he'll never love you either."

Juniper didn't flinch.

Because she already knew that wasn't true.

Adrian had said it.

And for the first time, she believed it.

Isla must have seen something in her expression shift, because her smirk wavered.

Juniper tilted her head.

"Now, be a good little villain," she said smoothly, "and get the hell out of my house."

Silence.

Then—

Isla's eyes turned cold.

"This isn't over."

She turned on her heel and walked out.

Juniper exhaled, her hands still trembling.

And then she turned back to Adrian.

Still unconscious.

Still burning with fever.

Still hers.

For now.

But how much longer would he stay?

Juniper barely had time to process before Adrian's phone forgotten on the nightstand buzzed.

She hesitated.

Then reached for it.

The notification lit up.

Her blood ran cold.

Blackwood Empire Under Fire: CEO's Secret Relationship Exposed

A photo was attached.

Of her.

In Adrian's bed.

Her stomach dropped.

Because this wasn't just a scandal.

This was war.

And she had no idea if she was going to win.