17. Stirring The Storm

The morning after Lydia’s recent message, the penthouse felt different thicker, charged, like the air before a thunderstorm. Elara stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city stretch awake beneath her. She tried to lose herself in the skyline, but the knot in her chest refused to ease.

Adrian noticed.

He always noticed.

“You didn’t sleep,” he said, stepping beside her. His suit jacket was off, sleeves rolled to his forearms the look that always made him seem sharper, more dangerous, more… aware.

“I couldn’t,” Elara admitted. “She’s pushing harder.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Then so will I.”

Before she could ask what he meant, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, eyes narrowing.

“It’s about Lydia?” Elara guessed quietly.

He nodded once. “Someone saw her leaving a private club downtown. Alone.”

His voice dipped into something dark. “She wants attention.”

Elara’s breath hitched. “Are you… going to meet her?”

Adrian turned to her fully, expression unreadable. “I’m going to end whatever she thinks she’s doing.”

The room felt somehow smaller, the tension between them threading into silence.

“Adrian,” Elara said softly, “be careful.”

His eyes flicked to hers, lingering. Something unspoken passed between them worry, protectiveness, a connection neither of them dared name.

“I will,” he said simply. “Because I have something to come home to now.”

Her stomach flipped, warmth spreading through her chest. She opened her mouth to respond, but his phone buzzed again sharp, urgent.

He cursed under his breath.

“What now?”

“You’ll stay in the penthouse,” he said immediately, business-like, controlled. “Security won’t leave your side.”

“Adrian”

“No.” His voice softened only slightly. “Until I know what she’s planning, I won’t take chances with you.”

She didn’t argue. Not because he commanded it but because the fear simmering in his eyes was real, raw, and directed entirely at her safety.

A Few Hours Later

Elara tried to distract herself with flower arrangements in the private lounge soft lavender, cream roses, pale lilies—but her hands shook more than she wanted to admit.

She wasn’t alone.

A new security staff member, Mia a sharp-eyed woman in her thirties stood nearby, calm but alert.

“You have someone who cares for you deeply,” Mia said quietly, surprising Elara.

Elara blinked. “Adrian?”

Mia nodded. “He doesn’t usually allow personal matters to disrupt business. Today, he walked out of a meeting without explanation.”

Elara’s breath caught. She didn’t know what to say.

M

Downtown — Adrian

Although Elara didn’t know the details, Adrian’s day was spiraling.

He strode into the private club with a cold, focused fury—one that the staff recognized instantly. People stepped aside. Conversations stopped. Even the piano music faltered.

He found Lydia in a private booth, swirling a glass of champagne like she was starring in her own performance.

“Adrian,” she purred, standing. “You came.”

“This ends now,” he said. Not loud, but sharp enough to slice through the room.

Lydia’s smile wavered. “You’re angry. I expected that. I almost missed it.”

“You sent men after her.”

Lydia blinked—slow, deliberate. “I sent them to talk to her. She’s… impressionable.”

Adrian leaned in, voice dropping to a warning. “If you try anything again, anything, you won’t walk away cleanly.”

A flicker of fear crossed her eyes before she hid it behind another smirk. “You’re awfully protective of a woman you barely know.”

Adrian’s silence was its own confession.

And Lydia saw it.

Her smile vanished.

“You’re falling for her?” Lydia whispered.

Adrian didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

Then Lydia delivered her blow.

“Fine. If you want a war…” She leaned closer. “Let’s see if Elara can survive it.”

Adrian’s blood ran hot.

He left before he did something irreversible.

Penthouse — Elara

Hours later, Elara paced the living room, unable to settle.

When the elevator chimed, she spun around.

Adrian stepped out, tension radiating off him like heat from asphalt. His tie was gone. His eyes were storm-dark. He looked like a man holding himself together through sheer control.

“What happened?” Elara whispered, stepping closer.

Adrian stared at her for a long moment searching her face, confirming she was safe, whole, breathing.

Only then did his shoulders drop slightly.

“She knows,” he said quietly. “She knows I’m done with her. And she’s not handling it well.”

Elara felt a chill run through her. “What does that mean?”

“It means she’s unpredictable now.”

He took a step closer.

“Which means,” he added, eyes locked on hers, “I need you closer than ever.”

Her breath hitched.

Closer.

As if realizing how his words sounded, Adrian exhaled slowly, turning away but not before she saw the flicker of something raw in his eyes.

He grabbed his phone.

“I’m doubling your security. And starting tonight, you’re not leaving this penthouse without me.”

Elara swallowed hard. “Is… is it that serious?”

“Yes.” His voice was low, hard. “Lydia made a promise today. And I don’t trust her to keep it quiet.”

A knock sounded at the door.

Adrian stiffened.

Elara’s heart stopped.

Mia opened it and froze.

On the floor sat a small black box tied with a red ribbon.

Adrian moved first, stepping protectively in front of Elara.

Mia picked it up, scanned it no wires, no metals.

Inside was a single item:

A broken lily.

And a note:

“If she wants your world… she’ll pay the price.” - Lydia

Elara’s blood went cold.

Adrian looked ready to tear the city down.

“Lydia’s drawing blood now,” he said quietly.

And Elara knew, this was only the beginning.