Fake Date, Real Fate
Chapter 165: Operation: Fake Getaway

Chapter 165: Operation: Fake Getaway

Two days post-hospital and my body was back to cooperating with gravity—mostly. I’d graduated from sleepwear to sweatpants, and for once, the house was quiet. Until Adrien’s car pulled up out front like it belonged in a Bond film and not a suburban driveway.

Aria was in the kitchen, pretending to make tea but 100% conducting surveillance, Leo was filming a "What The Rich Drive" vlog on the porch (unapproved and unnoticed, obviously), and Dad was wiping imaginary dust off the living room window like it owed him fifteen years of unpaid child support.

"Isabella," he called, already standing at the door like a sentinel. "Your... boyfriend, Mr. Washington, is here."

Adrien stepped inside like the air bent around him on impact. Mr. Washington, as far as my family was concerned.

Shirt unbuttoned at the collar, watch glinting like it could buy a neighborhood. A bouquet of white tulips in one hand, car keys in the other. And that look—serious, calm, the one that always meant he’d already decided something and my input was just a polite afterthought.

"Good afternoon, sir," Adrien said, with the exact tone of voice that could get someone out of jail—or into Congress.

Dad raised his eyebrows. "Afternoon." His arms crossed. This was the stance he used for discipline, budget negotiations, and once, the pizza guy who overcharged him for extra cheese.

"So," Dad said slowly, "you want to take my daughter for three days."

Adrien nodded. "Yes."

"Three nights is long."

Adrien didn’t flinch. "She deserves longer."

God. Of course he had to say that. Charm level: weaponized.

"Where are you going?" Dad asked.

"Undisclosed location."

My brows shot up.

"Undisclosed?" Dad echoed.

"For privacy. Safety. And because it’s a surprise for her."

He actually looked at me then, a flicker of warmth breaking through the control on his face. My insides turned to goo.

Dad’s jaw flexed. "And... you plan to sleep where, exactly?"

There was a pause so thick it could’ve been spread on toast.

"In a separate room, sir," Adrien said, eyes not flinching. "Unless she changes her mind."

My face heated so fast I felt like I might combust. My eyes darted to Adrien, who seemed completely unfazed, his gaze still locked with Dad’s. Had he just... said that? In front of my father?

Dad was unimpressed. "If anything happens to her—"

"It won’t," Adrien said, softly this time. "She’s the most important person in my life."

Oh. Oh.

Okay. Now I was goo on fire.

Dad squinted at him like he was trying to read his blood pressure with sheer eye contact. Then he finally muttered, "I want regular updates. Photos. If she texts me and says you pissed her off, I’m coming with a bat."

"You’ll have updates," Adrien said. "And if I upset her, I’ll hand you the bat myself."

Leo popped his head out from the kitchen. "Can I come?"

"No," Adrien and Dad said at the same time.

I snorted. Aria, sitting on the arm of the couch with popcorn she definitely got just for this moment, whispered, "This is better than the dating show we watched last night."

"Three nights," Dad said, holding up three fingers like he was laying out commandments. "No funny business."

"Understood."

Dad narrowed his eyes. "And by funny business, I mean—no spiritual entanglements. No soul-swapping. No yoga retreats that end in therapy. Just clean, honest vacationing."

I groaned. "Dad. Please. He’s not taking me to a cult."

Dad blinked slowly ignoring me. "Just understand—she may be grown, but I’m still her father."

"Of course."

"And I have watched killer movies four times this week."

Adrien tilted his head. "That’s comforting."

"I know what men are capable of. Especially the charming ones."

"I can assure you—any charm is involuntary."

Dad wasn’t done. "I have old friends who don’t ask questions. I also have a shovel."

"I respect that."

Leo popped his head in. "And I have access to her therapy playlist. I’ll know if you messed up."

I stepped out to them fully, hands on hips. "Alright, alright. I’m not a piece of furniture. Or a hostage. Can I speak?"

Adrien turned to me like the sun just came out. "Princess."

Dad made a sound like he was choking on a lemon.

"Dad, seriously?" I rolled my eyes, but a ridiculous warmth bloomed in my chest. Adrien didn’t even blink, holding my gaze with that confident, serene look that was either incredibly brave or utterly unhinged. Probably both.

"I appreciate the... thorough vetting, Dad," I said, looking back at him. "But I’m a grown woman. And also, he’s never even seen my therapy playlist, Leo, so that’s an empty threat."

Adrien chuckled, a low, rich sound that seemed to smooth over the lingering tension. He stepped towards me, bouquet of tulips held out. "These are for you, Isabella. And your family, for sharing you with me."

He handed them to me, and I inhaled the fresh scent. "They’re beautiful, thank you." I glanced at Dad, who was still glaring, but his eyes flickered to the flowers briefly. A small victory.

"Is your bag ready?" Adrien asked, his voice softer, meant just for me.

"Yes, it’s by the door," I confirmed, feeling a fresh wave of excitement wash over me. Three days...with him.

Aria hopped off the couch. "All this dad energy is giving ’Meet the Parents’ reboot," she said. "Ten bucks says Isabella comes back with very specific sparkle on her left hand."

I shot her a look, then leaned in and whispered, "Is the necklace in the side pouch?"

She gave a subtle nod. "Next to your socks. Don’t forget to update me."

I squeezed her hand and nodded.

Adrien gave my dad a final, respectful nod.

Dad grunted, which I’d learned was his equivalent of a heartfelt blessing. He then looked at me, his expression softening for a fraction of a second. "Be smart, Isabella. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all."

"I will, Dad. I promise."

Leo was, in fact, already on the porch, phone aimed at us. "And here we see the majestic man in his natural habitat, leaving with the local maiden," he narrated in a hushed documentary-style voice. "Will she return? Or will she be lost to the world of thread counts higher than her credit score? Stay tuned."

I swatted at his arm as I passed. "You are so weird."

"It’s content!" he hissed back, ducking away.

Just as Adrien reached for my bag, Leo called out from the porch, camera still rolling.

"Wait! I need a clip of you two walking to the car—slow-mo, dramatic music."

"No," I said.

"Yes," Adrien said at the same time.

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

He lifted a brow. "It’s good PR."

"For who?" I deadpanned.

Leo turned his phone sideways. "Alright, cue the romantic glances. Isabella, pretend you haven’t seen him in weeks. Mr. Washington, look like you just won custody."

"Leo—"

"And... walk."

Adrien offered his arm, dead serious. "Shall we?"

I gave Aria a helpless look. She grinned and raised her popcorn bag like a toast.

Dad muttered something about needing a whiskey.

And that’s how we walked out of the house, hand in hand, smiling like vacationing sweethearts—as Adrien and I faked going on a trip.