SHADOWS IN THE GLASS

The sound came from below—sharp, deliberate, unmistakable.

 Not thunder. Not wind.

 Glass. Breaking.

 Adrian’s instincts kicked in before thought did. He pulled Lena behind him and motioned for silence. Her hand clutched his sleeve, trembling.

 “Stay close,” he whispered.

 They moved down the hallway toward the main living area. The rain outside made the penthouse windows flash with silver light. The security screens flickered again—two went black, one stayed on, showing static.

 Someone had jammed the feed.

 Adrian’s pulse was steady but hard. Whoever was inside had skills. Corporate espionage wasn’t new to him, but this—this felt personal.

 He reached the edge of the open-concept living room and scanned the space. The tall windows looked intact. The fireplace glowed faintly, and the faint smell of smoke mixed with rain.

 Nothing looked broken. Until his eyes dropped to the far end of the room—one of the smaller glass panels near the kitchen door had been shattered inward.

 They were in.

 “Adrian,” Lena whispered, her voice barely there.

 He turned, finger to his lips. He pointed to the side hallway that led to the elevator and mouthed, Go.

 She shook her head. “I’m not leaving you.”

 He almost argued—but her eyes told him she wouldn’t move even if he ordered it.

 Typical Lena. Always stubborn. Always unafraid until it was too late.

 He gestured again, more urgent this time. “Hide,” he mouthed.

 She hesitated, then slipped quietly toward the study while he moved toward the broken glass.

 The moment he crouched to inspect it, a faint metallic click broke the silence—the sound of a weapon being cocked.

 Adrian froze.

 Then, without hesitation, he rolled sideways just as a silenced gunshot ripped through the space. The bullet shattered the wall panel where he’d been standing.

 His heart slammed against his ribs. He ducked behind the kitchen island, pulled his pistol, and returned fire—two shots, controlled, precise.

 A shadow darted near the window, fast and quiet. Whoever it was moved like a professional.

 “Adrian!” Lena’s voice cut through the noise.

 He turned sharply. “Stay down!”

 But she wasn’t listening. She was peering around the corner of the study door, wide-eyed and shaking.

 Another gunshot. This one missed her by inches, splintering the doorframe.

 “Lena!”

 He fired again, aiming toward the flickering movement by the window. A grunt, then silence.

 He approached cautiously, keeping his gun raised.

 The intruder was gone. The glass panel still swung open, rain blowing in.

 Whoever it was had escaped into the storm.

 Adrian locked the door and scanned the ground—no footprints, no casings, no evidence. The precision of it chilled him. This wasn’t a burglary.

 It was a warning.

 ---

 Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

 She pressed her back against the wall as Adrian checked the doors again. The thunder outside made her flinch every few seconds.

 She thought she’d left this behind. The running, the fear, the nights when every shadow felt alive.

 When Adrian turned toward her, his face was carved in steel.

 “Are you hurt?”

 She shook her head, unable to find words.

 “Then tell me what the hell that was,” he said sharply. “Because I just had a trained shooter in my penthouse, and somehow it’s connected to you.”

 His tone stung, but she couldn’t blame him.

 “I told you they would find me,” she whispered.

 “Who are they, Lena?!” His voice rose, echoing off the marble walls.

 She flinched. “You don’t understand. They’re not just one person, or one company. It’s—”

 “Start explaining,” he demanded. “Now.”

 Lena took a breath that trembled in her chest. “Erevos wasn’t just research. It was funded by a private syndicate through your father’s offshore accounts. When he died, they lost control of the project. They’ve been trying to retrieve the data—and anyone who has it.”

 Adrian stared at her. “You’re saying my father was involved with these people?”

 “He was their founder, Adrian. They called him the Architect.”

 The room spun around him.

 “That’s impossible.”

 Lena shook her head. “He started Erevos to save people—but somewhere along the way, it changed. He changed.” Her voice broke. “And when I found out what they were doing with the experiments, I ran.”

 He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “You had his child before you left?”

 Tears stung her eyes. “I didn’t know I was pregnant until weeks after. I tried to reach you, but every message I sent was intercepted. Every call went dead. Then someone came after me. I had to disappear.”

 Adrian’s throat tightened. He wanted to stay angry, but the fear in her eyes was too real.

 He reached out before he could stop himself, brushing a raindrop—or maybe a tear—from her cheek.

 “Why now, Lena? Why come back?”

 “Because they found me again,” she whispered. “And because… the baby’s health is changing. Fast. I think whatever they did… it’s affecting him.”

 The silence that followed was heavier than the storm outside.

 He looked at her stomach—small but unmistakably carrying life. His life, if she was telling the truth.

 Something inside him cracked open.

 He’d buried every emotion she’d ever given him, but right now they all came flooding back—rage, love, regret, and something dangerous: protectiveness.

 “We’re not running,” he said finally, voice low. “Not this time.”

 Her brow furrowed. “Adrian—”

 “I have resources. Security. People who owe me favors. Whoever they are, they came into my home. That makes it personal.”

 She shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re up against.”

 He met her eyes. “Then you’ll tell me everything.”

 ---

 Later that night

 The broken glass had been cleaned. The alarms reset. Adrian stood by the window again, watching the rain streak down the glass.

 Lena sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, half-asleep but restless.

 He’d wanted to believe this was some elaborate lie, but the fear in her voice wasn’t something anyone could fake. And the name Erevos… that wasn’t new to him.

 He’d seen it before—once, years ago, buried in his father’s archived documents. A black folder labeled “E-Project.”

 He’d dismissed it then. Now he wasn’t so sure.

 His phone buzzed on the desk. A message from an unknown number:

 > YOU SHOULD HAVE LET HER GO.

 Adrian’s blood turned cold.

 He walked to the couch and crouched in front of her. “Lena. Wake up.”

 She stirred, blinking. “What is it?”

 He showed her the phone.

 Her face drained of color. “They’ve been tracking you since I came.”

 Adrian’s mind raced. “How?”

 Her gaze fell on her wristwatch—a sleek, silver band. She tore it off, threw it across the room, and it cracked open on impact. Inside, tiny circuits blinked once before dying.

 “A tracker,” she said softly. “They were never after me alone. They wanted to find you.”

 Adrian felt the weight of her words settle in.

 Whoever these people were, they weren’t just after stolen research. They wanted him—and whatever legacy his father left behind.

 He looked down at Lena again, her head resting against the sofa, her body shaking from exhaustion.

 He realized, with a sinking clarity, that letting her in wasn’t the mistake.

 Believing the danger was over—that was.