Chapter 20

I narrowed my eyes at Tristan. "And what exactly do you want to talk about?"

"A lot." His voice was casual, but there was something unreadable in his gaze.

I sighed, glancing toward my bedroom door. Cole was still standing guard outside. There was no way he'd let me go downstairs, let alone speak with Tristan alone.

"I can't leave my room," I said, turning back to him.

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Guard dog keeping you on a leash?"

I frowned.

He smirked.

"Alright then, here's a thought—jump."

I let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, no. I'm not stupid enough to jump from the first floor."

"I promise to catch you," he said, dead serious.

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "And I'm just supposed to trust you?"

He tilted his head, studying me. "You already trust a man who follows you around like a shadow and keeps you locked away. How's that working out for you?"

My jaw tightened. "It's working just fine."

Tristan chuckled, shaking his head. "Right. And yet, here you are, standing at the window, actually considering jumping."

I wasn't. Was I?

I scoffed. "You're insane. Why would I risk breaking my neck just because you want to talk?"

"I'd catch you," he said smoothly.

"Oh, sure. And how do I know you wouldn't just step aside and let me fall? Or worse, catch me and snap my neck on impact? Forgive me if I don't put my life in the hands of someone whose mother literally poisoned me."

His smirk vanished.

For a moment, he didn't speak. His head dipped slightly, shoulders tensing, before he lifted his gaze back to mine.

"That wasn't me," he said quietly. "And it never will be."

I folded my arms. "That's easy to say."

"Then let me prove it." His voice was steady, but there was something raw underneath. "Give me a chance—to show you I'm not like the rest of my family. That's all I'm asking."

I sighed. His blue eyes held no arrogance now, just quiet sincerity.

But still…

"I'm not jumping," I said firmly.

His lips quirked slightly. "Fair enough."

Then, before I could respond, he turned and walked away.

I stared after him, brows furrowing.

Something told me this wouldn't be the last time Tristan Caldwell tried to get my attention.

I turned away, shutting the window and heading back to my bed. Cole was still outside my door, probably listening to everything.

I sat down, picking up my fork, but the food didn't look as appetizing anymore. My mind was stuck on Tristan's words. *Let me prove it.*

Prove what? That he wasn't like his mother? That he wasn't like the rest of his family?

I wasn't sure I cared.

A knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Astrid," Cole's voice came through, calm but firm. "Everything okay?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Yeah. Just tired."

A pause. "You're sure?"

"Yes, Cole," I said, a little sharper than I intended.

Silence.

I exhaled, lying back on the bed. My body ached, my head was spinning, and now Tristan Caldwell had decided to throw himself into the mix.

I closed my eyes.

But sleep didn't come easy. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind replayed the day's events.

I tossed and turned, frustration building in my chest. The room felt too quiet, too still, and despite my exhaustion, my body refused to relax.

At some point, I gave up and sat up, rubbing my face. The clock on the nightstand read *2:47 AM*.

Great.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, standing slowly. Maybe some water would help. Or fresh air.

I made my way to the window again, pushing it open just enough to let in the cool breeze. The night was still, the estate quiet. I took in a deep breath as the cool breeze brushed against my skin.

A flicker of movement near the garden caught my eye.

I leaned forward, narrowing my gaze.

Someone was out there.

They were standing near the hedges, barely visible in the dim light. Watching.

I stiffened.

Before I could react, the figure moved—quick and deliberate—disappearing into the shadows.

A chill ran down my spine as I stepped back from the window. My first thought was to ignore it—maybe I was imagining things, maybe it was just a gardener or security doing their rounds.

But something about the way they moved… it wasn't normal. It wasn't casual.

I turned to the bedroom door. Cole was right outside. If I told him, he'd check it out in seconds.

But then what?

I hesitated. If I was wrong, I'd look paranoid. If I was right…

I exhaled sharply. No time for overthinking.

I pulled open the door.

Cole was there, standing with his arms crossed like he hadn't moved an inch all night. His gaze flickered to my face, instantly sharpening.

"What?" he asked.

"There's someone outside," I said, keeping my voice low. "In the garden."

His expression didn't change, but I saw the shift in his stance—more alert, more focused.

"You sure?"

"I know what I saw."

Cole didn't waste time asking more questions. He turned and strode down the hall. I followed, my pulse hammering.

We reached the back balcony, and Cole scanned the area below. It looked empty now, nothing but perfectly trimmed hedges and stone pathways.

"Stay here," he ordered.

"Not a chance," I shot back.

He glanced at me, probably ready to argue, but then just sighed. "Fine. Stay close."

We made our way downstairs, the air thick with tension. Cole moved silently, like he was trained for this. I, on the other hand, was painfully aware of every breath I took.

As we stepped outside, the night air wrapped around me, cool and unsettling.

And then—

A branch snapped to our left.

Cole reacted instantly, moving in front of me as he pulled a knife from his belt.

"Who's there?" he called out, voice firm.

Silence.

Then, just as I thought maybe we'd been wrong—

Footsteps.

Fast. Moving away.

Cole took off, and without thinking, I followed.