Chapter 7
Three days later, the police asked us to return and give additional statements.
Their investigation revealed that the payment had gone to the first reporter who arrived outside Suite 1908 on the night of the cruise.
When the police questioned him, he quickly admitted the truth.
Someone had told him in advance that Adrian would spend the night with a woman in Suite 1908.
He had accepted the money and brought the other reporters to wait outside the door.
The police then reviewed the security footage from the cruise ship’s ballroom.
The video had no sound, but the images were clear.
Before the party began, Vivian called her assistant over and whispered something in her ear.
The assistant nodded and walked to the bar.
When the server turned away, she dropped a pill into the glass in front of Adrian.
Vivian watched from a short distance away.
She did not look away until Adrian picked up the drink.
Faced with the footage and the payment records, the assistant finally confessed.
Vivian had arranged both the drug and the reporters on the cruise ship.
Adrian stared at her.
“Why?”
Vivian grabbed his sleeve and cried.
“Because I love you.”
“Claire stayed beside you for five years. I was afraid you would fall in love with her.”
“I only wanted you to take responsibility for me.”
Adrian pulled his arm away.
“So you let me believe Claire was behind everything?”
Vivian did not answer.
Her silence told him enough.
Adrian slowly turned toward me.
For the first time, I saw panic in his eyes.
I had not drugged him on the cruise ship.
I had not hired the reporters either.
Yet from the moment he woke up, he had believed it was all part of my plan.
He had treated me the same way for the past five years.
The more I did for him, the more he questioned my motives.
The better I treated him, the more certain he became that I was trying to force him to return my feelings.
Only now did he finally understand.
Perhaps I had never been the manipulative one.
Perhaps he had simply never tried to know me.
The evidence against Vivian was clear, and she was formally charged.
Her assistant turned over every message and payment record in exchange for a lighter sentence.
Vivian had arranged for Adrian to be drugged.
She had paid the reporters.
She had created the threatening messages.
She had planted the pills in my bag.
She had also hired two men to help her stage an attempted assault.
After the case went through court, Vivian was sentenced to five years in prison.
The Bennett family refused to continue paying her legal fees.
I heard that Vivian asked to see Adrian several times after she went to prison.
He refused every request.
She had planned everything to gain his love, his name, and the life she wanted.
In the end, she lost all of it.
A few days later, Adrian came to my studio.
He carried a takeout box from an expensive restaurant.
Inside was a white truffle dish.
“I remember you like this.”
I looked at it.
“I do not like white truffles.”
Adrian frowned.
“But you always ate them whenever they were served.”
“I ate them because you liked them.”
I looked at him calmly.
“You liked them because Vivian liked them.”
“Adrian, they were never my favorite.”
His expression stiffened.
After knowing me for so many years, he remembered what Vivian liked.
He did not even know what I enjoyed eating.
Adrian remained silent for a long time.
Then he spoke quietly.
“I was wrong about what happened on the cruise ship.”
“I can also make up for everything else.”
I gave a small laugh.
“How?”
He seemed to see hope in my question.
“You can return to Cole Group.”
“You can choose your own position and salary. I will never allow anyone to question you again.”
I almost laughed again.
“Why would I return?”
Adrian froze.
“Claire, I know you are still angry.”
“I am not angry,” I interrupted.
“I simply do not need you anymore.”
“I also do not want an apology that came years too late.”
His grip tightened around the takeout box.
“You have only known Julian for a few weeks. Do you really know him?”
“At least he wants to know me.”
I lowered my head and continued sorting the photographs on my desk.
“I have work to do, Adrian. Please leave.”
He stood there for a long time.
In the end, he had no choice but to walk away.
One week later, my solo photography exhibition opened.
I called it Second Dawn.
It was my first public exhibition since returning as C. Vale.
Adrian came too.
He stood in the center of the gallery without moving.
Every photograph on the walls showed a part of me he had never known.
There were glaciers, deserts, deep oceans, and cities damaged by war.
Some guests had traveled from other countries to see my work.
Others stood in front of the photographs and spoke excitedly about following C. Vale’s career for years.
Adrian moved slowly from one photograph to the next.
His expression became more complicated with every step.
For the past five years, I had put down my camera and stopped traveling.
I had spent every day outside his office.
I arranged his schedule.
I checked his contracts.
I kept medicine ready for his stomach problems.
Perhaps only now did he understand.
I had not stayed beside him because I had nowhere else to go.
I had stayed because I had once given up a much larger world for him.
He found me while I was adjusting a photograph in the center of the gallery.
“Claire.”
I did not turn around.
“What is it?”
Adrian stopped beside me and looked at the work behind me.
“Am I not welcome here?”
“That is not the problem.”
I set down the frame in my hands.
“We simply have nothing left to say to each other.”
Adrian was quiet for a moment.
“I did not know how talented you were.”
“You never wanted to know.”
He swallowed.
“I know I was wrong.”
“You can keep taking photographs from now on. You never have to work as my assistant again.”
He paused.
“Claire, let’s start over.”
I finally looked at him.
“You still do not understand.”
“I was never waiting for your permission to be a photographer.”
“I was not waiting for you to decide to love me either.”
“I have already moved on.”
His face lost some of its color.
“Because of Julian?”
“This has nothing to do with him,” I said calmly.
“Even without Julian, I would never go back to you.”
Adrian stared at me.
“I do not believe you.”
Julian walked over at that moment.
He took the camera from my hands.
“You have been standing all afternoon. Are you tired?”
“A little.”
He handed me a cup of warm water.
“I knew you would forget to drink again.”
I accepted the cup.
Julian gently moved a loose strand of hair away from my face.
Then he kissed my forehead.
The gesture was easy and familiar.
I naturally took his hand.
Adrian stared at our joined hands.
His eyes slowly turned red.
Only then did he finally stop lying to himself.
I was not dating Julian to make him jealous.
I was not waiting for Adrian to come back to me.
I had truly chosen someone else.
Julian and I were about to leave when Adrian suddenly grabbed my wrist.
“Claire, you cannot leave with him.”
Julian’s expression turned cold.
“Let her go.”
Adrian did not release me.
He looked directly into my eyes.
“Do you really love him?”
“Yes.”
I pulled my wrist free.
Adrian stumbled backward and hit a display table with his arm.
The camera resting on it fell to the floor.
The lens shattered.
The sound echoed through the gallery.
I stared at the broken camera.
My mentor had given it to me when I won my first international photography award.
I had carried it with me for years.
The anger vanished from Adrian’s face.
“Claire, I did not mean to do that.”
I looked up at him.
“You have already destroyed enough, Adrian.”