CHAPTER 5: The Intruder

Adrian's POV

I knew something was wrong the second I stepped into my bedroom.

The air felt shifted. Too cold. The faint smell of the damp night breeze lingered near the far wall, I left the window opened. Someone was in here with me.

I wanted to reach for the lamp on my nightstand or pull back the heavy duvet to create a barrier, but I changed my mind. If this was just a thief, they would have run when they heard my heavy footsteps on approach the room. This person was waiting. I needed to know their motive.

I didn't bother reaching for the light. I walked straight to the bed, tossed my phone down, and laid on the mattress, pretending to sleep. I kept my breathing slow and even, but my muscles were coiled tight, ready to snap.

Then, I heard them. Footsteps approaching the bed. They were incredibly light, almost completely silent against the floorboards but growing up as a Whitlock meant I was trained to hear and notice even the littlest things.

A faint shift in the air, the subtle sound of an arm drawing back. I heard the sharp slice of a blade swinging down through the dark, and I immediately understood what this was. This wasn't a robbery. It was a hit.

Just as the blade aimed at my chest, I shot my hand out in the pitch black and gripped a slender wrist. I used their own downward momentum, twisting hard and flipping the attacker entirely over my body. They crashed heavily onto my mattress.

We grappled wildly in the dark, eventually rolling off the bed and slamming onto the hard wooden floor. The person underneath me was smaller, definitely a woman, but she fought like a cornered animal. Her grips were hard and calculated—an intermediate level of combat skill, fast and lethal. But she had no idea who she was messing with. I pinned her down, my weight crushing her against the floorboards, trying to lock her knife hand down.

Suddenly, she twisted her wrist just enough to free the blade and slashed downward. I felt the sharp bite of cold metal slice through my t-shirt and deep into my shoulder.

I grunted, the sudden burning pain breaking my focus for a second. Taking advantage, she fought back fiercely, so I roughly shoved her off me with everything I had. She flew backward, hitting the heavy wooden wardrobe with a loud thud.

I needed to see who had the nerve to come into my sanctuary. I turned and lunged toward the wall switch to turn on the light. She realized what I was doing and scrambled toward the open window. I abandoned the light switch and rushed her, clamping my hands down hard on her shoulders to pin her against the wall and force her to face me.

Instead of using a martial arts counter, she did something completely raw and desperate,she lifted her heavy combat boot and stomped down viciously on my bare foot.

A curse ripped from my throat as the pain flared. My grip loosened for a second, and she broke free, practically scrambling up the wall and diving out the open window into the dark.

By the time I reached the ledge and looked out into the night, she was gone. Swallowed entirely by the shadows.

I slammed the window shut, locked it, and immediately went around the house, checking every entrance and perimeter. It was just her, and she had escaped.

I walked into the bathroom, finally flipping on the light, and inspected my shoulder in the mirror. The cut was clean, bleeding steadily down my arm, but it wasn't fatal. I grabbed a towel, pressed it hard against the wound, and leaned over the sink.

Who could have tracked me down here, and why were they after my life?

Nobody at Ravenwood knows my background. To the entire university, I am just Adrian Whitlock, the captain of the hockey team. I have intentionally kept my identity a secret, and I plan to keep it that way until I graduate. Only a select few know that I am the sole heir to a powerful mafia empire. Once I graduate, I am expected to take over the territory.

The only person on this entire campus who knows who I really am is Blake. He is my childhood friend, the alternate captain on my hockey team, and he is more like a brother to me than a friend. His mother, Rebecca, has worked at my parents' estate for as long as I can remember.

I walked back into the bedroom and picked up my phone. I scrolled through my contacts, my thumb hovering over Blake's name.

I moved past it. I couldn't call him. We have a massive game coming up, and honestly, Blake was acting strange earlier today. He had just come back from a visit with his mom this afternoon, looking exhausted and completely spaced out. When I asked him what was wrong, he brushed it off and immediately shifted the conversation to a girl he had caught peeping through my window when he arrived.

"She'll just be one of those delusional girls on campus who think they stand a chance with the captain,"I had told him, laughing it off.

"Yeah, probably," he had muttered, though his eyes looked distant.

I knew something was bothering him, but I couldn't tell what. Since he just left to get some sleep not too long ago, I didn't want to bother him with a bleeding shoulder and a failed assassination attempt.

I kept scrolling. I moved past my mother's number too. I definitely couldn't call her. She is overly protective of me, and if she knew I was attacked, she would panic. I couldn't even trust my father to calm her down. My parents have a terrible, complicated relationship that I still do not fully understand. I have never really seen them show genuine love to each other since I was a kid. It’s exactly why the entire concept of marriage disgusts me. If being tied to someone looks like the cold war my parents live in, I want no part of it.

I tapped Richard's contact instead. My father. The Don.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Hello, young man," his deep, commanding voice came through the speaker almost immediately.

"Someone just broke into my house," I said flatly, keeping my voice low and clinical. "A woman. Armed. It wasn't a robbery, it was a hit. She escaped, but she managed to get a blade in my shoulder."

The line went dead silent for three heavy seconds. I could practically hear the gears turning in my father's head.

"Are you severely injured?" he finally asked, his tone dropping an octave into pure business.

"No. Superficial cut. But the perimeter was breached."

"I will have men sent to your location immediately. We will find out who ordered this."

I tightened my grip on the blood-soaked towel. I had seen two men standing near the campus ice rink yesterday. Men wearing heavy coats who looked exactly like soldiers working for Cole Bennett, my father's biggest rival.

I almost mentioned it. The words were right on the tip of my tongue. But I swallowed them back. I wasn't entirely sure it was Cole's men, and if I gave my father a name right now, he would declare an all-out war before verifying the facts. I wanted this investigated on a clear, unbiased basis first.

"Just make sure the men you send are discreet," I told him. "I don't need a massive scene at the university right because I have an hockey game coming up."

"Stay alert, Adrian," my father ordered. "I will handle this."

He hung up. I tossed the phone back onto the mattress and looked at the dark window. Whoever this girl was, and whoever sent her, they had made a massive mistake. They failed to kill me tonight, and when I find out who she is, she will surely pay for it.