"No," Celine said firmly, pushing him away with all her strength. In the struggle, her hand accidentally struck his left hand.

"Ouch!" Adam groaned, pain evident in his voice. "What's wrong?"

Celine, startled, looked at his injured hand. Adam lifted it. "Celine, my hand hurts." He lifted it again, showing her the injury.

Celine knew his hand had been seriously hurt, but she hadn't realized the extent—two stitches had been required. Though the stitches had been removed, a deep, grotesque scar marred his palm.

Only the two of them were in the dimly lit hallway, the warm glow of the overhead lights barely illuminating the space. They stood close enough to hear each other's heartbeat. Adam repeated, looking intently at Celine, "Celine, do you see it? My hand hurts."

Celine was confused and exasperated. She couldn't understand why he, a man who had always carried himself with unyielding strength, was suddenly so focused on his pain. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "It's ugly," she said bluntly, referring to the scar.

Adam's lips twitched, a mix of disbelief and amusement playing on his face. The next second, he lowered his head and kissed her.

Celine tried to push him away, but her efforts were futile. His strong, slender fingers tangled in her soft black hair, holding the back of her head. He was relentless, overpowering. Celine felt like she couldn't breathe, as if she were being suffocated. She hammered her fists against his chest, and only then did he release her. His face buried in her hair, he drew a deep breath. "Celine," his voice was hoarse and gravelly, "I've been drugged."

Celine tried to step back but was blocked by the wall. "So?"

"So, you've been with Nathan all this time. Don't you think it's time you spent some of it with me?" he said, his voice dropping. "Celine, I want you." He kissed the shell of her ear.

Celine froze. She had expected this. From the moment he appeared at her door in the middle of the night, she had known his intentions. Why wasn't he with Carly? Why had he left the Tate family's house?

Memories of his words from the other night at the Celestial Suite resurfaced—his cold, biting judgment cutting through her thoughts. He had called Carly pure and untouchable and had told Celine this was her place. Was he here to treat her as merely an outlet for his desires? She hadn't forgotten the humiliation he had inflicted upon her.

She lifted her chin. Her clear, determined eyes met his. "I don't want it." Her voice was steady.

Adam's towering figure froze.

Celine pushed him away and turned to leave, but Adam grabbed her wrist. "Celine, do you really not like me anymore?"

Celine turned her head. "That's right. I don't like you anymore."

Adam's hand loosened, his fingers slipping from her wrist. His lips curled into a mocking smile as he nodded. "Alright then." With that, he took out his phone and dialed a number. "Leo, send me a clean one to Lux Garden."

Celine watched in stunned silence as he hung up and walked away, his long strides carrying him swiftly down the hallway. He left, just like that.

For a long time, Celine stood there. Eventually, she turned and walked back to the VII ward. Inside, Nathan was still asleep, undisturbed by the night's events. Celine climbed onto the couch and closed her eyes.