A D R I A N 

The drive back to the estate feels like a countdown. Every turn through the palm-lined roads, every glimpse of the lantern-lit windows of Seraphine flashing by—it’s all tightening around my ribs like the island itself is bracing for impact. Ethan’s SUV rattles over the last stone bridge and the house comes into view: the Valcrosse estate, glowing like a cathedral built for judgment.

The place is alive. More cars than I’ve ever seen on the grounds, sponsors, board members, press. People in suits flooding the steps, speaking in clipped voices, the kind people use when they smell blood in the water.

Elara’s hand is still in mine. She tries to loosen her fingers, like she thinks I don’t notice, like she thinks letting go will make the night easier for me. I grip tighter. Maybe harder than I should. But if I let go now, I’m afraid the floor will drop out from under me.

Kai is the first out of the second car. “They’re circling,” he mutters. “Like fucking vultures.”

Selene smooths her hair but her hands are shaking. “Mother wouldn’t call a vote so fast unless the board was already leaning against you.”

Lucien steps beside me, not looking at me, not needing to. “They’ll test you. That’s what they do when they’re scared. They pretend they’re the ones holding the power.”

I swallow the bitter laugh clawing its way up my throat. “Are they scared?”

Lucien finally looks at me. “They should be.” I feel Elara step closer to my side, not touching, not speaking, just… choosing to be here. God help me, I need that more than the air.

The boardroom looks like a courtroom reorganized at the last second. Half the seats are filled with executives pretending not to stare. The other half with people who would love to watch me fall—competitors, investors who’ve hated the Valcrosse name since before I learned to tie a tie. Cameras at the back make the whole thing feel like a trial being streamed to the entire goddamn archipelago.

Someone I recognize—Weinstein, one of the older board members stands before we’re even fully inside.

“Adrian,” he says, voice booming in the polished room. “Before this meeting proceeds, we must address the… chaos you caused today.”

Chaos. Not the truth. Not the fact that a boy almost died. No, the board cares about the noise, not the fire.

Another director cuts in, “Your emotional decisions compromised our partnerships. You humiliated sponsors with your… outburst.” Outburst. Defending Elara’s integrity is an outburst, apparently.

Selene inhales sharply beside me. Kai mutters something like “old bastard.” Lucien’s jaw tightens enough to crack teeth. But the worst part, the part that hits harder than every accusation is when I feel Elara start to speak. I feel her breath shift, her shoulders tense, the instinct to step forward.

I squeeze her hand. Not hard. Just enough.
Not this time. Not for me. Let them hit me. Weinstein turns the full weight of his attention on her.

“And you,” he says. “Your statement today directly cost us partnerships. You let personal issues derail..”

“Enough,” I snap, stepping in front of her. A ripple moves through the room. If they want a fight, they just got it.

The room has gone sharp-edged and brittle, like the slightest wrong word will shatter it. That’s when I hear the soft click of heels behind us. Measured, deliberate. Every Valcrosse child tenses at the same time.

Mother.

Isabella Valcrosse steps into the room like she was carved from moonlight and expectation. Not angry. Not emotional. Just impossibly composed. Her gaze sweeps over the board, over the cameras, over me, then lands on Elara’s hand inside mine.

She stands at the head of the table. “We will speak plainly,” she says. And the room obeys. Even the lights seem to dim under her tone. “The board has elected to move forward with an emergency vote concerning Adrian’s continued leadership of Isla Seraphine.” Isabella’s gaze, sharp as a surgeon’s blade cuts to me.

“Adrian,” she says. “You may answer the board. They question not only your decisions today, but your readiness to inherit what your father and I built.”

Elara shifts beside me, so small and so strong at the same time. I can feel her wanting to speak, wanting to stand between me and the fire again. But this time the fire is mine.

Mother says quietly, “You are allowed to defend yourself. Or—” her eyes flick to Elara again, unreadable “your choices.” The room holds its breath. So do I.

I should speak. I know I should. Every instinct drilled into me since childhood says: Show no weakness. Show no emotion. Say what keeps Seraphine safe, even if it means sacrificing whatever part of you is still human. But when I open my mouth, nothing comes.

I look at Kai, arms crossed, daring anyone to challenge him.  Selene, eyes wet but bright, hope simmering there. Lucien, steady as obsidian, nodding once like he knows the decision already made. And Elara, God. She looks like she’s holding her breath because she doesn’t think she deserves to stand in this room with us. Because she thinks she’s the reason I’m losing everything.

But she isn’t. She’s the reason I’m finally seeing clearly. If the board wants to test me, if the island wants to watch. Fine. Let them see what I am when everything is stripped away. My heart is hammering so loud I swear the mics will pick it up. The room waits. My mother waits. Elara waits.

I finally breathe. Not for them. For her. For us. And the words begin forming in my mouth like they’ve been waiting years to be spoken.

I step forward. The board murmurs, shifting like a single organism sensing the change in air pressure.

“Fine,” I say. My voice doesn’t boom. It doesn’t tremble. It just… lands. “You want to question my choices? Let’s do it.” Selene’s breath catches. Kai’s jaw locks. Lucien stops blinking entirely.

I face the room, the cameras, the board, the people who think they can strip me down to something manageable.

“My choice is simple.”  I inhale. The sound scrapes through me.
“I choose her.”

The silence is violent. A held breath with teeth. Some exec at the far end scoffs. Another makes a strangled noise like I’ve lost my mind. A woman in pearls mutters “unacceptable” under her breath.But I don’t stop.

“I choose her,” I repeat, louder, clearer. “I choose the doctor who told the truth when it put a target on her back. I choose the woman who stood next to me when the entire world demanded we lie. I choose integrity over convenience. I choose honesty over comfort. I choose..”

My throat closes, just for a moment, but the words force their way out anyway.

“I choose Elara Quinn. And if that means I lose sponsors, fine. If that means the board wants my head, take it. But I am done pretending that the brand is safer with lies than it is with someone brave enough to stand beside me.” Elara’s hand tightens in mine. She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t have to.

The room erupts, gasps, whispers, outrage. Cameras flash like lightning. The air feels electric, unstable, ready to split open. But for the first time all night, I feel steady. Like I’ve finally said something true.

The first voice that breaks through the noise belongs to a board member whose name I always remember only because of how deeply I dislike him.

“This is absurd,” he snaps. “Personal entanglements cannot dictate island leadership.”

“Neither can cowardice,” Kai fires back before I can open my mouth.

Selene steps forward too, chin sharp, eyes ablaze. “If this board values deception over integrity, maybe it’s not Adrian who’s unfit to lead.”

Lucien just laughs under his breath, low and lethal. “You all wanted a Valcrosse heir who stands for something. Well. He finally does.”

The board’s outrage spikes. Half the room is red-faced. The other half can’t look away. Phones are everywhere, some recording secretly, some openly. I see my declaration already spreading, already mutating into headlines.

Elara moves closer, barely brushing my arm. I don’t think she realizes she’s doing it. I don’t think she realizes her presence is the only thing keeping my heart from pounding straight out of my chest.

One woman slams her tablet shut. “This will destroy investor confidence.”

Ethan steps in from the back. “Actually… it’s doing the opposite.”

Everyone turns. He lifts his phone. “Three sponsors just reversed their withdrawal. Two more asked for statements. And, this one’s big—a global hospitality conglomerate is asking to schedule a meeting with Adrian directly.”

The room crackles like a struck match. Lucien murmurs, “Truth attracts visionaries.” I exhale, shaky. Maybe for the first time tonight.

The room fractures into chaos, but it absolutely stops, when my mother rises. Isabella steps toward me with the kind of quiet that commands more attention than any shouting ever could. The board straightens. Kai shuts up mid-snarl. Even Selene folds her hands like she’s back in the chapel.

My mother’s eyes settle on Elara. She lifts one hand, slow, deliberate and touches Elara’s cheek with the gentlest brush of her fingers. Like she’s blessing something sacred.

“Elara,” she says softly. “Thank you for protecting my son.” Elara freezes. I think I stop breathing entirely.

Then Isabella turns to the board, her voice smooth as velvet and sharp as a blade.

“If Adrian chooses her,” she says, “then the island will follow.” Gasps crack the air. Someone actually drops a pen. My mother meets my eyes.

“Now,” she says, “let’s see who has the courage to vote accordingly.” And the room holds its breath.