Chapter 2 - Seven Days as Mrs. Almost-Vale
Celeste did not sleep.
At 2:17 in the morning she sat at her kitchen table in a University of Toronto sweatshirt, staring at the photograph on Adrian’s phone that she could not stop seeing in her mind.
Her apartment in the Annex had never felt particularly glamorous, but it had always felt safe.
That mattered more.
It was small enough that the radiator clicked loudly in winter and the upstairs neighbor’s golden retriever occasionally announced breakfast at six in the morning. Celeste had studied for anatomy exams at the chipped kitchen counter and cried over tuition bills on the narrow balcony. She knew every creak in the floor.
Now every sound seemed unfamiliar.
At 2:31, someone knocked.
Celeste stood so quickly her chair scraped the floor.
“Who is it?”
“Tomas.”
She opened the door.
Her older brother entered wearing jeans, an old Toronto Police Service sweatshirt, and the expression of a man who had already decided someone else had made a catastrophic mistake.
He held up his phone.
“Explain.”
Celeste stared at the photograph of herself and Adrian.
“You saw it.”
“The whole city saw it.”
“It was a misunderstanding.”
“Were you kidnapped?”
“No.”
“Blackmailed?”
“No.”
“Drunk?”
“I was working.”
Tomas stared at her.
“That does not improve this story.”
She told him everything.
Not every rumor about Adrian. She did not know enough to separate rumor from fact. But she told Tomas about the corridor, the two men, the hidden shape beneath a jacket, the fake engagement, the anonymous photograph.
When she finished, Tomas sat silently.
That scared her.
He had always been a talker.
Finally he said, “You need to leave town.”
“Adrian says that could make things worse.”
“Adrian?”
“He has a first name.”
“Do not humanize the terrifying billionaire before breakfast.”
Despite everything, Celeste almost laughed.
Then another knock came.
Tomas stood.
Celeste opened the door to find Adrian Vale in the hallway.
No entourage.
No dramatic entrance.
Just a tall man in a dark overcoat holding two coffees and a paper bag.
Tomas looked past Celeste.
“This him?”
Adrian’s eyes moved to him.
“Tomas Parrish.”
Tomas went still.
“You research everyone?”
“Only people connected to immediate problems.”
“I’m her brother, not a problem.”
“I hope that remains true.”
Celeste stepped between them.
“No testosterone contest in my hallway.”
Adrian handed her a coffee.
“Tea.”
She looked at the cup.
“I don’t drink coffee.”
“I know.”
“That is not comforting.”
“There are croissants too.”
Tomas muttered, “I hate that this is working.”
They sat at the kitchen table.
Adrian explained his proposal without drama.
Seven days.
In public, Celeste and Adrian would not deny the engagement.
They would attend one charity dinner together at the end of the week, allowing Adrian time to identify who had tried to pressure him and why Celeste had been photographed before the gala.
In private, Celeste could continue nursing school.
She would not move into Adrian’s home unless necessary.
She would have a driver available.
No one would interfere with her classes.
No one would approach Tomas.
No money would be exchanged unless Celeste chose to accept reimbursement for missed work.
“No,” Celeste said.
Adrian blinked.
Tomas leaned back.
“Good.”
Celeste pointed at Adrian.
“You do not get to rearrange my life and call it protection.”
“I am trying to reduce risk.”
“You are trying to control variables.”
“Yes.”
“I am not a variable.”
Adrian was silent.
The answer had landed.
Celeste continued.
“I will agree to the public story for seven days because someone already dragged me into this. But I set conditions.”
Tomas looked horrified.
Adrian looked interested.
“No surveillance inside my apartment,” she said. “No investigating my friends unless there is a specific threat. No lying to me about things that affect me. I go to class. I work my hospital placement. And if I say I’m uncomfortable, we leave.”
Adrian nodded.
“And one more thing.”
“What?”
“You stop talking to me like I’m an employee.”
A pause.
Then Adrian said, “Agreed.”
Tomas put both hands over his face.
By noon, Celeste understood what agreeing to seven days with Adrian Vale actually meant.
Her phone became unusable.
News accounts reposted the gala photograph. Lifestyle pages speculated about a secret romance. Someone found an old University of Toronto volunteer photo and described her as a “mystery medical student,” despite the fact that she had never tried to be mysterious in her life.
At St. Michael’s, Priya cornered her near the elevators.
“You are engaged to Adrian Vale?”
“No.”
“Excellent. Clarifying.”
“I mean publicly, yes. Actually, no.”
Priya stared.
Celeste sighed.
“It is complicated.”
“That sentence has destroyed more women than gravity.”
Celeste pulled her into an empty break room and explained the safer version.
Priya listened without interrupting.
Then she said, “Do you trust him?”
“No.”
“Do you think he’s protecting you?”
“Yes.”
“That is worse.”
Celeste knew.
That afternoon Adrian arrived outside the hospital himself.
No limousine.
A black sedan waited at the curb.
He opened the passenger door.
Celeste stopped.
“You have people for this.”
“I do.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because you asked me not to treat you like an employee.”
“That is annoyingly logical.”
They drove west through evening traffic.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Celeste asked, “Are the stories about you true?”
“Which stories?”
“The ones where people lower their voices before saying your name.”
Adrian looked out the windshield.
“Some.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the most accurate answer.”
“Have you hurt people?”
His jaw tightened.
“I have made choices I am not proud of.”
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“It isn’t.”
She waited.
Adrian finally said, “My father built an empire through fear. When he died, I inherited the companies and the enemies. I have spent eight years trying to move legitimate businesses away from the things he normalized.”
“And the other things?”
“Do not disappear because paperwork says they should.”
Celeste studied him.
For the first time she saw something beneath the control.
Fatigue.
Not physical fatigue.
The deeper kind.
The exhaustion of someone who had been carrying a family name like a loaded suitcase for too long.
“Why were those men confronting you?”
“They wanted access to one of my shipping contracts.”
“For what?”
“I refused to ask.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“It was deliberate.”
They arrived at a private dining room above a quiet Italian restaurant.
Celeste stopped outside.
“What is this?”
“Dinner.”
“I did not agree to dinner.”
“You have eaten half a granola bar today.”
She glared at him.
“Are you monitoring my food?”
“No. You left the wrapper in my car.”
“That is less creepy.”
Inside, there were no photographers.
No wealthy donors.
No audience.
Just soup, bread, pasta, and a city glowing through the windows.
For twenty minutes, they talked about nothing dangerous.
Celeste told him about nursing school.
Adrian told her he had wanted to study architecture before his father died.
She laughed when he admitted he hated golf despite belonging to three clubs.
He asked why she chose nursing.
“My mother died when I was nineteen,” Celeste said. “Cancer. The nurses were the people who made the hospital feel human.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“My mother died young too.”
The distance between them shifted.
Not disappeared.
Shifted.
Then Adrian’s phone vibrated.
He read a message.
The softness vanished.
“What is it?” Celeste asked.
“One of the men from the gala has been identified.”
“And?”
“He does not work for the person I expected.”
“Who does he work for?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Someone connected to Vale Holdings.”
Celeste set down her fork.
“You mean the threat came from inside your own company?”
“Yes.”
He turned the phone around.
On the screen was a photograph of a silver-haired man in a tailored navy suit.
Celeste recognized him immediately.
He had been at the gala.
He had smiled at her while she poured champagne.
“Who is he?”
Adrian’s answer came without emotion.
“My uncle.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
May you like
And Celeste realized the next six days were not about protecting her from strangers.
They were about finding out which member of Adrian Vale’s own family had decided she was useful.
