CHAPTER NINE — THE MAN WHO MARKED HIS TERRITORY

CHAPTER NINE — THE MAN WHO MARKED HIS TERRITORY

Silence struck the hall like a blade.

Liana didn’t move.

Liam tightened his small fingers around hers—quiet, scared, but refusing to let go. His thin shoulders trembled; the boy wasn’t stupid. He knew wolves when he saw them.

And Adrian Jin was a wolf walking straight toward them.

Not frantic.

Not unstable.

Just terrifyingly intentional.

He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could feel the cold of the night still clinging to his coat.

“Liana,” he breathed, relief cracking through the single word like porcelain fracturing under heat, “don’t… leave like that again.”

She arched a brow.

“Why are you here?”

A simple question.

But it made his fingers twitch—like he wanted to grab her, hold her, anchor himself again.

“To get you.”

His voice was low. Dry. Hoarse with exhaustion and fear he would never admit to.

Behind him, Mrs. Rose found her tongue.

“Mr. Jin, this matter does not concern—”

Adrian’s head turned a fraction.

Just a fraction.

The temperature in the hall dropped.

The matriarch of the Rose family fell silent instantly, as if someone had pressed a hand over her throat.

His attention slid back to Liana.

That alone was answer enough:

No one in this house was worth speaking to.

No one except her.

But then—his eyes flickered downward.

To Liam.

The boy pressed himself against Liana’s side, eyes wide. He wasn’t used to being noticed by powerful men. He wasn’t used to being looked at with anything but annoyance.

Adrian crouched.

Slowly.

As if approaching something fragile.

Liana’s breath stalled.

This wasn’t in the book.

This wasn’t in her last life.

Adrian had never knelt in front of anyone.

But he knelt now—before her brother.

“What’s your name?” Adrian asked quietly.

Liam swallowed, voice small. “L-Liam.”

Adrian’s brows pinched together, as if the name was a puzzle piece that made something in his broken memory itch.

He reached out—

Liana instantly stepped in front of Liam.

Adrian froze.

His eyes flicked up, meeting hers.

He didn’t grab her.

He didn’t protest.

He only whispered:

“…He’s important to you.”

Not a question.

A revelation.

Liana didn’t answer.

Liam clung to the back of her jacket, tiny fingers curled into fists.

Adrian’s gaze softened—not warm, but sharp with dangerous understanding.

Then he stood, height overshadowing even the room itself.

“I’m taking you home,” he murmured.

“No,” Liana replied, calm and unshaken.

He blinked once. Slowly.

As if unfamiliar with being refused.

“Why?”

“Because this isn’t your decision to make.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened—instinct roaring against reason.

But he forced his voice low.

“Then tell me yours.”

Liana inhaled.

“My brother leaves with me. Tonight. Now.”

Across the hall, Mrs. Rose slammed her fist on the armrest of the sofa.

“He is not going anywhere! Liam belongs to this family! He—”

Adrian didn’t look at her.

He didn’t have to.

His voice sliced through the air:

“Touch him, and I will burn this house down.”

Every maid gasped.

Helena stumbled back, crossing herself.

Even the guard at the door stopped breathing.

Mrs. Rose turned pale.

“You—You can’t threaten us—”

“I’m not threatening you.”

Adrian’s gaze darkened.

“I’m promising you.”

The Rose family finally understood:

This was not the polished, indifferent executive they knew from before.

This was a man with no memories—only instincts.

And every instinct he had pointed to protecting Liana… and everything she touched.

Liana tightened her hold on Liam’s hand.

“Adrian,” she said quietly, “you’re still recovering. You shouldn’t be here.”

He stepped closer.

Too close.

Her spine straightened.

But Adrian wasn’t trying to intimidate her.

He was searching her face.

“You’re leaving this place,” he said. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“With him.”

He glanced at Liam. “Both of you.”

“Yes.”

He exhaled.

Not relief.

Not agreement.

Something deeper.

Something like acceptance of a truth his bones already knew.

“Then I’m going with you.”

The hall froze.

Liana lifted her chin. “Adrian—”

He leaned in, voice quiet but fierce:

“You walked away once today. My chest nearly tore itself open.”

Her heart skipped.

Liam stiffened behind her.

She steadied herself. “I can’t look after you right now.”

“I don’t need you to look after me.”

His voice dropped, dark and hurting and possessive.

“I just need to be where you are.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

Liana frowned. “I’m not.”

“I am,” he whispered.

Her breath caught.

This obsessive, newly-fractured man… was trembling.

Not from pain.

Not from fear.

From the sheer terror of being separated from her.

Liam tugged Liana’s sleeve timidly. “Sis… can we leave? Please?”

Liana looked down at him—her reason for fighting through death itself.

She turned back to Adrian.

“We leave,” she said. “All three of us.”

Adrian’s posture straightened like someone had finally returned his missing spine.

Mrs. Rose surged to her feet.

“You can’t take him! He legally belongs—”

Adrian pulled out his phone.

The speed dial.

The number that made entire city officials stand up straight.

“Say the word,” he told Liana, “and this family won’t exist by morning.”

The room went silent.

Utterly silent.

Liana smiled—very small, very cold.

She didn’t give the word.

She didn’t need to.

Mrs. Rose collapsed back onto the sofa, defeated.

Helena looked away, tears of fury burning her eyes.

Liam squeezed Liana’s fingers.

“Let’s go,” she said softly.

Adrian moved beside her immediately—close enough that their shoulders brushed, close enough that if she stepped away, he would follow without hesitation.

He didn’t touch her.

But every line of his body screamed the truth:

She is mine to protect.

They are mine to shield.

And I will destroy anything that tries to take them again.

Liana led Liam toward the door.

Adrian walked with them—silent, controlled, terrifyingly calm.

And behind them, the Rose family watched the three of them leave…

knowing the balance of power in their world had just shifted forever.