14. Jealousy

Adrian didn’t sleep that night. He sat in the study, fingers tapping rhythmically against the edge of his desk, eyes flicking occasionally to the large windows overlooking the city. Every time Elara stirred in her room, every time her soft footsteps crossed the hall, his muscles tensed. He knew Lydia was close. He could feel it. She was patient, calculated, and dangerous, and she had never liked losing.

Elara, meanwhile, tried to calm herself. She had spent hours arranging flowers in the penthouse, pretending it was just another ordinary day, but the note from Lydia burned in her mind. Her hands still trembled slightly as she straightened the last bouquet. She knew she couldn’t rely on Adrian forever, though part of her wanted to. The way he watched her, silently guarding every moment of her life—it was suffocating and comforting all at once.

By mid-morning, a sharp knock at the door made them both startle. Adrian moved first, swift and controlled, standing in front of the door before she could reach it.

“Stay back,” he said, his voice low.

Elara hesitated, then nodded. She watched as he opened the door to reveal a young man, disheveled, clearly nervous, holding an envelope. His eyes darted around as though expecting someone to strike him down.

Adrian didn’t speak. He simply took the envelope from him, eyes cold and sharp. He didn’t even glance at the man before closing the door.

Elara stepped closer, peering over his shoulder. The envelope was addressed to her in Lydia’s unmistakable handwriting. She hesitated before opening it, and when she did, a photograph fell into her hands.

It was her, arranging flowers just yesterday, but the photo had been taken from outside the building. Someone had watched her.

A note slid out from beneath the photo: “You’re learning fast, but I’ve seen your limits. Let’s see how far you’ll go before you break.”

Elara’s chest tightened. She felt a surge of fear, but also defiance. “She’s playing games,” she whispered.

Adrian’s gray eyes locked onto hers, stormy and sharp. “She’s dangerous. Don’t underestimate her. And you’re stepping into territory you don’t fully understand.”

“I can handle it,” she said, voice firm, though her hands shook slightly.

“You can try,” Adrian said. His jaw tightened. “But I won’t let her harm you. Not now, not ever.”

She looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his tone. “You’re… protective.”

“I’m careful,” he corrected, voice low, and his eyes darkened with a shadow she couldn’t read. “Because I know what she’s capable of. And because I can’t afford to lose you.”

Elara’s stomach twisted at the words. She wasn’t sure whether they were a warning or a confession. Perhaps both.

Later that afternoon, she stepped out to the terrace for fresh air. The city stretched endlessly beneath her, glittering and indifferent. She felt a sudden presence and turned to see Adrian leaning casually against the doorway, arms crossed. His eyes never left her.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, stepping closer.

“I needed air,” she replied softly.

“You’re lucky,” he muttered, voice low, almost a growl. “I was close to hiring someone to… ensure Lydia doesn’t try anything while you’re out. She’s not gone, you know. She’s clever. Dangerous. And she likes to remind me she can reach you anytime.”

Elara swallowed hard. “She hasn’t yet.”

“You’re lucky she hasn’t.” His eyes darkened, and he stepped even closer, stopping just an inch from her. “And lucky for me that you’ve proven you can handle yourself.”

Her pulse quickened. She wanted to step back, but instead, she stayed, meeting his gaze. Something unspoken passed between them a tension, a challenge, a spark she couldn’t name.

Just then, Adrian’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, expression tightening. “A message from Lydia,” he said quietly, tossing the phone to her.

Elara hesitated, then read the message: “Watching. Waiting. She thinks she’s safe, but everyone has a weakness.”

Her fingers trembled. “She’s… threatening me.”

Adrian’s lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s testing you, and she’s testing me. And I don’t like it.”

“You’re… jealous,” Elara said softly.

He blinked, startled for a fraction of a second, then composed himself. “Protective,” he corrected, his voice clipped. “And aware of how dangerous she is. Do you want me to step aside and let her have her fun?”

Elara shook her head, defiance burning. “No. I’m not afraid of her. I want to face this. With you, if we have to.”

Adrian’s gray eyes softened just a little, a flicker of something almost like admiration or perhaps relief. “Then you’ll have to trust me, and trust yourself. She’s unpredictable, and she’ll escalate until she finds a crack in your armor.”

Even as they spoke, a shadow passed at the edge of the terrace a subtle movement that made Elara flinch. Adrian noticed immediately. “Stay inside,” he said, voice low. “And don’t move until I say it’s safe.”

Her pulse raced as he led her back inside. The city lights below were beautiful, indifferent. But up here, in this penthouse, they were sitting on the edge of a storm that had already begun.

Elara realized something that made her stomach both twist and flutter: Adrian didn’t just want to protect her from Lydia. He wanted to protect her from everyone. From the world. From herself, even. And the thought that he could be jealous and obsessive, even made her heart pound in a way she wasn’t used to.

Later that night, she sat by the window, holding the photograph Lydia had sent. Adrian stood behind her silently. His hand brushed her shoulder not touching her, not yet—but close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

“You’re going to have to make choices,” he said, voice low. “And not all of them will be easy. She wants a reaction. She wants you to falter. But if you stay calm, if you stay smart… You can survive this.”

Elara turned slightly, meeting his gaze. “And if I don’t?”

He stepped closer, gray eyes hard, intense, almost unbearably so. “Then I fail. And I won’t allow that to happen.”

Her heart skipped. She realized in that moment that this wasn’t just about business, rivalry, or a jealous ex. This was about Adrian, about what he wanted, about what he would do to protect her, and maybe, deep down, about what he could never fully say aloud.

Somewhere, far below, the city pulsed on, unaware of the dangerous game playing out above. Lydia’s laughter echoed faintly in Elara’s mind a promise that this war was far from over.

And Elara knew, with a strange mixture of fear and thrill, that she was ready to face it.