Chapter 102: ONE HUNDRED AND TWO

ADRIAN’S POV

I kept driving after leaving the company, but I made sure to not go straight home.

The dark car was still behind me, and I was getting the tense. It remained behind me when I changed lanes and stayed with me after I deliberately took a different route through the city. I checked the rearview mirror again and saw it several vehicles behind me, keeping the same distance as before.

The driver wasn’t trying to overtake me or get close enough to confront me. He was simply following like instructed.

Smart.

I slowed down when I reached a busy intersection and allowed several cars to move between us. For a few seconds, I couldn’t see the vehicle anymore. I turned onto another street and waited, hoping it would continue straight instead of following me. A minute later, it appeared again in my mirror.

Fuck.

I clenched my jaw and kept driving. I tried another turn, then another, but the driver adapted every time. I wasn’t going to take the risk of leading him straight to my brothers and Nicholas.

I changed my destination and drove toward a hotel on the other side of the city.

When I reached the entrance, I parked in front of the building and stayed inside the car for a moment, watching the road behind me. The dark vehicle slowed down as it passed the hotel before continuing down the street. I waited until it disappeared before getting out.

The hotel was busy when I walked inside. A few people were standing near the reception desk while an employee was helping someone with their luggage. I walked toward the counter and waited until the receptionist looked up at me.

"Good afternoon, sir," she greeted, pulling a registration form toward herself. "Are you checking in with us today, or are you meeting someone?"

"I’m checking in," I replied, placing my identification on the counter. "I need a room for tonight, and I’d prefer somewhere quiet if you have one available."

She checked the computer in front of her. "We do have a few rooms available on the upper floors. Would you like a standard room or one of our larger rooms?"

"The standard room is fine as long as it isn’t close to the elevator."

She smiled and began entering my information. "I can put you on the eighth floor. It’s toward the end of the hallway, so there shouldn’t be much noise from the elevators. Would that work?"

"That’s fine."

She processed the payment and handed me the card for the room. "You’re in room 814. The elevators are just behind you, and breakfast is served from seven until ten tomorrow morning. If you need anything during your stay, you can contact the front desk from the room."

I picked up the card. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome, sir. Enjoy your stay."

I walked toward the elevator, but before getting inside, I looked through the glass doors toward the entrance again. The car wasn’t visible from where I stood.

Was it gone?

I went upstairs, entered the room and locked the door behind me. I dropped my keys on the table, took off my jacket and immediately called Cassian.

He answered after a few rings. "Where are you?" he asked, sounding annoyed. "You’ve been gone for longer than you said. Are you okay?"

"I’m at a hotel."

There was a pause. "A hotel?"

"Yes. I was followed after leaving Dad’s office. I tried to lose the car, but the driver stayed with me, so I came here instead of taking them to the penthouse." I explained.

Cassian’s tone changed immediately. "Are you sure you’re not being followed anymore?"

"I don’t know yet. The car disappeared when I came inside, but I’m staying here for a while to make sure." I sighed.

"What are we supposed to tell the others?"

I hesitated, then pinched my nosebridge. "Tell them I’m fine and that I’ll be back later. Don’t give anyone the hotel’s name."

"I’ll tell them."

I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Also, don’t leave the penthouse until I get back. I don’t want anyone driving around unnecessarily."

Cassian sighed. "All right. Just keep your phone on."

"I will." Then we ended the call.

I hadn’t even put the phone down when the recorder connected again and I opened the recording immediately.

The voice of probably the man who had followed me came through the phone. "I followed him from the company. He noticed me after a while and started changing his route. He eventually stopped at a hotel."

Dad’s voice followed. "Which hotel?"

The man gave him the name and there was a short pause before Dad answered. "Don’t follow him inside. Return here."

"Do you want me to stay nearby?"

"No. I know where he is now. That’s enough. Come back." Dad ordered.

The recording stopped and I stared at my phone.

He knew where I was.

I stayed in the room for another hour before deciding to leave. I didn’t want to remain there long enough for Dad to send someone else or for the same man to return and wait outside.

Before leaving, I checked the parking area from the window and watched the entrance for several minutes.

Nothing.

I packed my things, took the elevator downstairs and walked out through the front entrance. I checked the road before approaching my car and then looked around the parking area again.

There was no sign of the vehicle.

I got inside my car and drove away. Instead of heading directly to the penthouse, I took several different roads first. I checked my mirrors constantly, slowed down at intersections and deliberately changed directions whenever I felt uncertain.

Nothing followed me and after driving around for long enough, I finally took the route toward the penthouse.

By the time I arrived, the others were already in the sitting room.

Elijah stood up the moment he saw me. "Where did you disappear to for so long? We were starting to wonder if something had happened."

"I was followed," I replied, placing my keys on the table. "Dad had someone watching me after I left his office."

Cassian sighed. "Yeah, Adrian called to say he was followed."

Roman’s face hardened. "Did he follow you here?"

I shook my head. "No. I made sure he didn’t."

Cassian looked at me. "How did you even know someone was following you?"

"I changed routes several times. The same car kept appearing behind me, so I stopped at a hotel instead of coming here. I stayed there until I was certain I wasn’t being followed."

Elijah shook his head, clearly frustrated. "So now he’s having people follow us too?"

"He’s trying to find out where we’re staying," I said, sitting down. "And judging from what I heard on the recorder, he knows I went to that hotel."

Cassian leaned forward. "Then he knows we’re hiding something."

"I mean we already knew he already suspected something," I replied. "The difference now is that he’s actively trying to find out what it is."

Roman looked toward the window. "We need to stop moving around separately. If someone is watching one of us, they can eventually follow another person back here."

"That’s why I told you not to leave until I returned," I said.

Elijah sat back down, rubbing his forehead. "This is getting ridiculous. We’re supposed to be hiding from our own father."

Nobody answered that and I didn’t want to keep talking about it, so I left the room and went downstairs to the gym.

The moment I walked inside, I went straight for the punching bag.

I wrapped my hands quickly and stood in front of it, staring at the bag for a few seconds before throwing the first punch. The impact shot pain through my arm, but I barely noticed it. I hit it again, harder this time, then followed with another punch.

This was absurd.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened this morning.

Dad had sat behind his desk and acted offended because I had left without telling him where I was. He had complained about the company. He had lectured me about responsibility. He had looked at me and pretended everything was normal.

Then, after I left, he ordered someone to follow me.

I slammed my fist into the bag. The man who had raised me was now watching where I went, tracking my movements and trying to figure out where I was hiding.

I had trusted him until all this. That was what made me angriest.

I could accept that people lied. I could accept that there were people who would hurt others for money or power. What I couldn’t accept was realizing that I had spent years believing I knew exactly what kind of person my father was while he had apparently been hiding an entire side of his life from us.

I punched the bag again and again until my breathing became heavy.

"This is my family," I muttered, staring at the bag as it swung back toward me. "How the hell did you do this to us?"

I hit it again, but the anger didn’t disappear. If anything, it got worse. I stopped only when my hands started aching, lowering them slowly while I stared at the floor.

I wasn’t even angry at anything else. I knew exactly who to direct that anger towards.

I was angry at my father.