Chapter 3 : Under His Protection

The crack of the rifle echoed through the cathedral long after the bullet struck the marble column.

Stone fragments rained over Elena's hair and shoulders.

For a heartbeat, she couldn't move.

Her ears rang.

The screams around her sounded distant, as though she were submerged beneath water.

Adrian's arm tightened around her waist.

"Stay down."

His voice was steady.

Completely unaffected by the chaos erupting around them.

Another shot tore through the air.

The bullet struck the column above Adrian's shoulder, sending another shower of stone across the floor.

Bodyguards returned fire.

Guests scrambled toward every available exit.

Police officers shouted conflicting orders.

The cathedral had become a battlefield for the second time in less than an hour.

Elena looked at Adrian in disbelief.

"Who are these people?"

"They're professionals."

"That's not what I asked."

"I know."

He glanced toward the choir balcony.

"The shooter has already moved."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"He fired twice."

"So?"

"If he intended to kill you from that position, he wouldn't have missed."

The realization chilled her.

"He wasn't trying to kill me?"

"He was."

Adrian's eyes narrowed.

"He was measuring our response."

A loud explosion shook the cathedral entrance.

Smoke rolled through the nave, swallowing the shattered doorway.

One of Adrian's security officers sprinted toward them.

"Mr. Moretti."

"Report."

"The northern exit has been compromised."

"The southern?"

"Blocked by media and police."

"The tunnels?"

The guard nodded.

"Still clear."

Adrian made his decision instantly.

"We're leaving."

Elena pulled her arm free.

"I'm not going anywhere until someone explains what's happening."

He looked at her.

Not impatiently.

Not angrily.

Simply as though calculating the fastest way to keep her alive.

"You have ten seconds."

"For what?"

"To decide whether you trust me."

She laughed bitterly.

"I met you less than an hour ago."

"You legally married me less than an hour ago."

"This isn't the time for jokes."

"I wasn't joking."

Before she could respond, another shot rang out.

The bullet shattered a stained glass window directly behind them.

Colored glass exploded across the marble floor.

Adrian didn't flinch.

Instead, he reached for her hand.

His fingers were warm despite the tension surrounding them.

"Time's up."

He led her toward a narrow wooden door hidden behind the altar.

She dug her heels into the floor.

"Wait."

He stopped.

"I need one reason."

His gaze remained fixed on hers.

"Because if you stay here, you'll be dead before sunset."

The certainty in his voice stole every argument she had prepared.

Not because she believed him.

Because he believed every word he had spoken.

The hidden door opened onto a narrow stone staircase spiraling beneath the cathedral.

Cold air drifted upward, carrying the scent of damp earth and ancient stone.

Elena hesitated.

"I didn't know this was here."

"Very few people do."

The security officer entered first.

Another followed behind them.

Adrian motioned for Elena to continue.

As the heavy wooden door closed above them, the sounds of gunfire faded until only their footsteps echoed through the darkness.

...

The tunnel looked centuries old.

Stone walls curved overhead, worn smooth by time.

Iron lanterns had recently been fitted along the passage, casting soft pools of light across the uneven floor.

"This was built during the fifteenth century," Adrian said.

Elena glanced sideways.

"You know a lot about cathedrals."

"I know a lot about escape routes."

The answer unsettled her.

He wasn't trying to impress her.

He was stating a fact.

They continued walking.

The silence stretched between them.

Finally, Elena broke it.

"You knew there would be an attack."

"I suspected."

"You still let the wedding happen."

"I did."

She stopped walking.

"So innocent people could get hurt?"

The guards ahead instinctively slowed.

Adrian turned to face her.

"No."

"Then explain."

"I can't."

"You won't."

"They're different."

"Not to me."

His expression softened, almost imperceptibly.

"If I tell you everything now, you'll spend the next twenty-four hours trying to prove me wrong."

"And?"

"You'll be dead before tomorrow."

She stared at him.

Every answer circled back to the same thing.

Death.

Always death.

"Why am I so important?"

He looked away.

Not because he was avoiding her question.

Because someone was approaching.

One of the guards returned at a jog.

"We have movement ahead."

"How many?"

"Unknown."

Adrian stepped in front of Elena.

The tunnel suddenly felt much narrower.

"What kind of movement?"

The guard listened to something through the small earpiece hidden beneath his collar.

Then relief crossed his face.

"False alarm."

He exhaled.

"Our advance team has secured the exit."

Only then did Adrian continue walking.

Elena noticed something.

He hadn't relaxed.

Not even slightly.

Whatever danger he expected...

He believed it was still waiting.

After several more minutes, the tunnel widened into an underground chamber.

A pair of massive wooden doors stood open.

Beyond them rested a private underground garage unlike anything Elena had ever seen.

The space was immaculate.

Soft white lighting reflected from polished concrete floors.

Half a dozen armored luxury vehicles stood ready, each surrounded by discreetly dressed security personnel.

No one panicked.

No one shouted.

They moved with calm efficiency, as though emergencies were simply another part of their routine.

A woman in a tailored navy suit approached immediately.

"Route Alpha is compromised."

She handed Adrian a tablet displaying a digital map.

"We've prepared Route Delta instead."

"Good."

She looked toward Elena.

"This way, Mrs. Moretti."

The title caught Elena off guard.

"I'm not..."

She stopped herself.

Legally...

She was.

The woman offered a sympathetic smile.

"I know today hasn't been easy."

"You have no idea."

"No."

The woman's smile faded.

"I probably don't."

Adrian handed the tablet back.

"Any updates?"

"The media believes you've already left."

"Excellent."

"And Mr. Moretti..."

She hesitated.

"The Board has requested an emergency meeting."

"They'll wait."

"It concerns the wedding."

"They'll still wait."

Without another word, he opened the rear door of a matte black armored Rolls-Royce.

Not flashy.

Not ostentatious.

Simply powerful.

He looked at Elena.

"We should go."

She glanced back toward the tunnel leading to the cathedral.

Everything familiar was behind her.

Her father.

Her friends.

The life she'd known that morning.

Ahead of her stood a man wrapped in secrets.

A marriage she never chose.

And answers she wasn't sure she wanted.

She took one slow breath.

Then climbed into the car.

The heavy door closed behind her with a quiet, final click.

For the first time that day, Elena realized she wasn't just leaving the cathedral.

She was leaving her old life behind.

The Rolls-Royce pulled away from the underground garage with effortless silence.

Elena expected the convoy to race through the streets with sirens and flashing lights.

Instead, they slipped into the afternoon traffic as though they were nothing more than another line of luxury vehicles leaving the city.

She watched the cathedral disappear through the tinted window.

News helicopters circled overhead.

Satellite vans clogged the surrounding streets.

Within minutes, every headline in Europe would be dissecting the attack.

None of them would know the truth.

Neither did she.

The cabin was so quiet she could hear the soft hum of the engine.

Across from her, Adrian opened a leather portfolio and began reading through several documents.

His composure was almost offensive.

The world had exploded around them, yet he looked as though he were traveling to a business meeting.

Elena folded her arms.

"Are you always like this?"

He looked up.

"Like what?"

"As if chaos is an inconvenience instead of a disaster."

"It depends."

"On what?"

"Whether anyone under my protection gets hurt."

The answer caught her off guard.

"You keep saying that."

"What?"

"'Under my protection.'"

"You are."

"I never asked to be."

"No."

His voice remained calm.

"But circumstances don't always wait for permission."

She turned toward the window again.

"I still don't trust you."

"I know."

"You don't seem bothered."

"I don't need your trust today."

He closed the folder.

"I need your cooperation."

Before she could respond, the vehicle slowed.

The convoy entered a long private road lined with towering cypress trees.

The city disappeared behind them.

Rolling hills stretched toward the horizon.

Ancient olive groves shimmered beneath the afternoon sun.

The road curved once.

Twice.

Then the estate came into view.

Elena forgot to breathe.

It wasn't a mansion.

It was a masterpiece.

Built from pale limestone, the sprawling villa overlooked a sparkling lake framed by vineyards and sculpted gardens. Ivy climbed the outer walls, softening the grandeur without diminishing it. Tall windows reflected the sunlight, while fountains whispered beneath centuries-old oak trees.

It looked less like the home of a feared billionaire and more like a place where history had decided to settle.

The gates opened before the convoy reached them.

Not because someone had rushed to greet Adrian.

Because someone had already known he was coming.

The Rolls-Royce stopped beneath a covered stone portico.

Staff members waited quietly.

Nobody fussed.

Nobody stared at Elena.

They simply acknowledged Adrian with respectful nods.

"Welcome home, sir."

"Thank you, Maria."

The elderly housekeeper smiled warmly.

Then she looked at Elena.

"And welcome home to you as well, Mrs. Moretti."

The title landed differently this time.

Not because Elena accepted it.

Because everyone else did.

Inside, the villa was breathtaking.

High ceilings.

Sunlight spilling across polished oak floors.

Original paintings hung beside towering bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes.

Fresh lilies perfumed the air.

Nothing glittered.

Nothing screamed for attention.

Luxury here whispered.

Not shouted.

Elena expected Adrian to lead her toward an extravagant sitting room.

Instead, he walked into the library.

She stopped in the doorway.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves stretched two stories high.

A rolling ladder rested against one wall.

A grand piano stood beside the windows overlooking the gardens.

Near the fireplace, a large golden retriever lifted its head.

The dog blinked sleepily.

Then, upon seeing Adrian, its entire body came alive.

Its tail thumped happily against the rug.

It bounded across the room with joyful enthusiasm.

Elena instinctively stepped aside.

The enormous dog ignored everyone except Adrian.

To her complete astonishment, Adrian crouched without hesitation.

The ruthless man she had watched command an army of security officers now scratched behind the dog's ears while accepting an enthusiastic lick across his cheek.

"There you are, old friend."

The dog's tail wagged even harder.

"You've been spoiled again, haven't you?"

Maria smiled from the doorway.

"He refused lunch until he heard your car."

"I'll speak to him about that."

The dog barked once, as if offering its own opinion.

Elena couldn't stop staring.

Adrian looked up.

"What?"

"I wasn't expecting this."

He gently rubbed the dog's neck.

"His name is Max."

"I meant..."

She searched for the right words.

"I didn't think men like you kept dogs."

"What kind of men?"

"The kind everyone whispers about."

Adrian rose to his feet.

"I rescued him six years ago."

Max leaned against Adrian's leg, clearly content.

"He'd been abandoned after a road accident."

Elena looked down at the golden retriever.

A faint scar ran along one of his front legs.

"He trusts you."

"He didn't at first."

Adrian's gaze drifted toward the gardens.

"Trust takes time."

The words hung between them.

Neither mentioned that they were no longer talking about the dog.

Maria cleared her throat politely.

"I've prepared the east suite for Mrs. Moretti."

"Thank you."

"And dinner?"

"Later."

Maria inclined her head before quietly leaving.

Adrian looked back at Elena.

"You should rest."

She almost laughed.

"You think I can sleep after today?"

"No."

"Then why suggest it?"

"Because exhaustion clouds judgment."

He walked toward the windows.

"And you're going to need a clear mind."

"For what?"

He remained silent.

That silence was beginning to irritate her more than any argument.

She wandered through the library, running her fingertips lightly across the spines of old books.

History.

Architecture.

Philosophy.

Classical literature.

The collection surprised her.

Nothing here matched the image the media painted of Adrian Moretti.

Her gaze settled on a silver picture frame resting atop the grand piano.

She picked it up absentmindedly.

It showed a much younger Adrian.

He couldn't have been older than twenty-three.

He stood beside an elegant woman with kind eyes and a warm smile.

The resemblance struck Elena instantly.

Not to Adrian.

To someone else.

Her fingers tightened around the frame.

No.

It couldn't be.

She looked closer.

The woman's smile.

The shape of her eyes.

Even the way she tilted her head.

It reminded Elena of her mother.

Not exactly.

But enough to make her heart race.

"Who is she?"

The room remained silent.

She turned the photograph over.

No names.

No date.

Only a single handwritten sentence.

Some promises outlive the people who make them.

A chill crept down her spine.

Slow footsteps echoed behind her.

She turned.

Adrian stood in the doorway.

His gaze rested on the photograph in her hands.

For the first time since they had met...

His composure cracked.

Only slightly.

But enough for Elena to notice.

His voice was quieter than usual.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

Elena lifted the photograph.

"She looks like my mother."

A long silence followed.

Then Adrian answered.

"No."

His eyes never left the photograph.

"They were sisters."