CHAPTER FOUR

Adrian didn’t move.

That alone was enough to make my stomach tighten.

“What is it?” I asked.

He slid the phone back into his pocket with deliberate calm. Too deliberate. His jaw set, eyes already elsewhere, calculating and rearranging the board in his head.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said.

I laughed softly. “That’s funny because last I checked, I married you, so everything you worry about is my problem too.”

His gaze snapped back to mine.

Sharp. Searching.

Then, unexpectedly, he exhaled.

“We need to leave,” he said. “Now.”

No explanation. No argument.

That should have irritated me.

Instead, I nodded.

The car ride was silent.

City lights streaked past the windows, neon and glass and shadows blurring together. Adrian sat beside me, one hand braced against the door, the other loose on his thigh. Controlled. Still.

Too still.

“You’re going to tell me eventually,” I said.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“When I know how much of it I can contain.”

I turned to hi,. “You assume I’m something that needs protecting.”

He didn’t look at me. “I assume you’re something that will be targeted.”

That shut me up.

For a moment.

“Is this about Vanessa?” I asked.

“No.”

“Your company?”

“No.”

“Your family?”

A pause.

Longer this time.

“Yes.”

That was worse than any other answer.

Back at the penthouse, the doors barely closed before Adrian loosened his tie, tension rolling off him in waves.

“Sit,” he said.

“I don’t take orders…”

He stopped in front of me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne. Cedar. Smoke. Control.

“Please,” he begged.

I sat.

He leaned against the desk opposite me, studying me like a risk assessment he hadn’t expected to care about.

“My mother doesn’t know about you,” he said.

I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“She knows I’m married,” he continued. “She just doesn’t know who the person is.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“Yes.”

“Because?”

“Because she will see you as leverage.”

The word settled between us.

Heavy.

“Everyone does,” I said quietly.

His jaw tightened. “She’s not everyone.”

I believed him.

That was the problem.

“When do I meet her?” I asked.

“You don’t,” he said. “Not yet.”

“Adrian.”

“She doesn’t lose,” he said flatly. “She only waits.”

I stood, crossing my arms. “You brought me into this world of yours. You don’t gets to decide which parts I face.”

Silence stretched.

Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

Not cold.

Not cruel.

Proud.

“You’re going to make this very difficult,” he said.

“I can’t believe it took you this long to figure out just how stubborn I can be.”

Later that night, I stood on the balcony alone, the city spread beneath me licked a kingdom I hadn’t asked for but now ruled beside him.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I stared at it.

Then answered.

“You should have stayed invisible,” a woman’s voice said softly. Cultured. Certain. “But now that you’re here, we will see just how long you last.”

The line went dead.

Behind me, the balcony doors slid open.

Adrian stepped out, eyes immediately finding my face.

“You got another message,” he said.

Not a question.

I turned to him slowly.

“Yes.”

He swore under his breath.

For the first time since I met him, I saw it.

Not fear. Not doubt, but something dangerously close to regret.

“This marriage,” he said quietly, “is no longer just a shield.”

I lifted my chin. “Good.”

His gaze locked onto mine.

“Because I don’t run,” I continued. “And neither do you.”

Something shifted between us then.

Not affection.

Not trust.

Alignment.

And that was far more dangerous.