Chapter 9

Tony hesitated in the doorway of Adrian’s study, voice low. “Sir, if we harm Kira, Marco will come for retribution. He’s dangerous in his own right, and it could ruin your reputation, not now that you are friends with the president. This could ruin everything you have been working for.”

Adrian didn’t turn from the window. His silhouette was rigid, features set like chiseled stone against the moonlight. “Do I look like I care?” His tone was flat, almost amused.

Tony swallowed. “We need her alive to find Scarlett.”

Adrian’s shoulders squared. He spun, twin embers of fury and something darker in his eyes. “Bring Kira to me. Alive. And bring Scarlett, too.” He paused, as though savoring the moment. “If you can’t find Scarlett just bring me Kira.” With that, he flicked a hand, dismissing Tony, and returned to the window.

——

The Mercedes coasted to a halt outside Kira Alvarez’s penthouse. Two black SUVs flanked it. The valet, accustomed to discreet arrivals, nodded as Tony’s team emerged—lean, professional, lethal. Inside, Kira and Scarlett believed they were all alone with the ladies in the mansion. 

Tony crouched behind the wrought-iron gate, heart thudding in his chest. Through the ornate bars he saw Scarlett’s silhouette in the foyer light, and beside her, Kira’s rigid posture. He flicked open his phone and hit “Call.”

“Boss,” he whispered into the receiver, his eyes gazing at the marble steps.

“I am listening,” Adrian’s voice came clipped.

“Scarlett’s inside with Kira,” Tony said, pressing a finger to the gate as if bracing himself. “Three doctors in scrubs are in there too. I think they are about to start something.”

There was silence. Then Adrian’s cool drawl: “Stay back. I’m coming.”

Tony swallowed and ducked out of sight as headlights swept the driveway. A black Mercedes rolled up, the engine a low growl. Two SUVs followed, tires crunching gravel. Adrian stepped out, immaculate in a tailored suit, his expression serene but lethal.

While Scarlett was about to speak, two ladies walked forward with a box.

“Here you are.” Kira said with a wide smile and then turned her gaze back to Scarlett, “Lay down.” 

“What do you mean lay down?” Scarlett asked.

Kira sighed, putting on her hand gloves “This is for the best, Marco told me to do the needful.”

Scarlett found her voice immediately. “You said you’d hide me. You said you’d protect me and my baby!”

Kira’s eyes darted to the scrubs, then back. “I’m sorry. He said, he said the only way to keep you alive was to convince you to—”

Scarlett’s gasp cut her off. The doctors approached with restrained scissors and trays of instruments. Scarlett’s heels scrambled on the marble. Kira stepped forward, voice urgent. “Scarlett, I’m doing this because… because he said if you have that child, Adrian will never stop hunting you.”

“Don’t come near me and who the hell is Marco to decide for me?.” Scarlett yelled at them.

Before any of them could react, the elevator pinged. The doors slid open. Adrian stood framed in sterile light: immaculate suit, expression colder than steel, a pistol clipped to his ankle. Behind him, the SUVs waited like sentinels.

Silence. Then—

Adrian stepped forward with that calm, unhurried gait. He brushed past the doctors, who stuttered apologies but dared not follow. He reached out and shoved Kira aside as though she weighed nothing. The scrubs clattered to the floor. Scarlett’s eyes went wide, tears flooding.

Adrian gathered Scarlett in one arm, lifting her as though she weighed no more than a child’s doll. She couldn’t scream; there was no breath in her lungs. Kira lurched forward.

“Adrian, what are you doing—-?” Her voice was brittle.

He didn’t look at her. He turned to Tony. “Tie her wrists. Padlock them behind her back. Then—” He glanced at the doctors, still frozen in the hallway—“Take her into the car.”

Tony moved to obey, stunned. The doctors gathered their things and fled, leaving trays and scissors clinking.

Scarlett, pressed against Adrian’s chest, could feel the slow, deliberate thump of his heartbeat. She dared to look up: his face was calm, his jaw set, eyes like chips of onyx.

“Kira,” Adrian said, voice level, “How dare you?.” He pressed Scarlett’s head to his shoulder. “You tried to kill my child without even telling me first.”

Kira’s lips trembled. “I—I only—”

Scarlett’s voice, weak but fierce, cut in. “You’re going to kill her.”

Adrian’s head snapped toward Scarlett. He actually smiled. “Did you really think I wouldn’t?”

Scarlett’s breath hitched. He carried her back toward the elevators.

Adrian’s grip on Scarlett’s arm was firm yet unexpectedly tender as he stepped into the dimly lit corridor of Kira’s mansion. The hum of midnight rain outside and the soft pulse of a distant city created the only soundtrack for this dangerous dance. He carried her on his shoulders, her head turned to rest against his back, a silent, defiant yet helpless gesture that stirred both pity and a dark fascination in his hardened eyes.

Inside the expansive foyer, adorned with a mix of modern austerity and classical touches, the tension was palpable. Tony, still gripping the phone, continued his tense conversation as he led a couple of his equally stoic bodyguards toward the rear exit, ensuring that every angle was covered. Their black suits and guns were as much a statement of authority as of the mortal danger that lurked in every word exchanged between enemies.

As they proceeded, an imposing silhouette of Adrian appeared in the ornate mirror, every inch the mafia don whose reputation was steeped in both ruthless precision and unexpected compassion. Scarlett, her hazel eyes glistening with a mixture of defiance and fear, managed to wriggle slightly, trying to see him in the mirror without meeting his gaze directly.

“Kira, You are not going anywhere until we clear this mess up,” Adrian said quietly, the calm in his voice belying the storm raging just beneath. He paused before a heavy oak door that led to his private study. “Tony, you got Marco?”