Chapter Eight: The Penthouse Routine

I learned Adrian's schedule within a week.

He woke at five. He was in his office by six. He skipped breakfast unless someone put food in front of him. He worked through lunch. He came home after nine, sometimes later. He didn't sleep enough. He didn't eat enough. He didn't seem to notice either.

I noticed.

The first morning, I made coffee. I didn't think about it. I just did it. I poured a cup, walked to his office, and set it on the corner of his desk.

He looked up. He didn't say anything. He just watched me set it down.

"You drink coffee," I said.

"I do."

"Then drink it."

I left before he could respond.

The second morning, I did it again. The third morning, the cup was already gone when I passed his office at seven. He'd taken it inside. He didn't mention it. Neither did I.

By the fifth day, it was routine.

Sloane noticed. Of course she did. She noticed everything.

"You're making him coffee now," she said.

"I'm making coffee. He happens to drink it."

"That's not what I said."

I didn't respond. I kept walking. She kept pace.

"He doesn't let people do things for him," she said. "He's not used to it."

"Then he should get used to it."

She looked at me. Something in her expression shifted—not approval, exactly. Something closer to respect.

"You're not what I expected," she said.

"What did you expect?"

"Someone softer."

I stopped. I turned to face her.

"I was softer," I said. "Once."

She held my gaze. She didn't apologize. She didn't need to.

"Good," she said. "Soft doesn't survive here."

She walked away. I watched her go.

---

The routine became something else over the next few days.

I started eating dinner in the kitchen instead of my room. Adrian found me there on the third night. He stood in the doorway, watching me.

"You're eating here," he said.

"I'm eating. The location is irrelevant."

He walked to the island. He sat across from me. He didn't have food. He just sat there.

"You should eat," I said.

"I'm not hungry."

"You're never hungry. That's the problem."

He looked at me. I looked back.

"I'm not your responsibility," he said.

"I know."

"Then why do you care?"

I set down my fork. "Because you're making this possible. The least I can do is make sure you don't collapse."

He didn't respond. But he didn't leave either.

The next night, he had food with me. He didn't eat much. But he ate.

---

On the seventh day, I met Sloane properly.

We were in the gym. I wasn't working out. I was sitting on a bench, watching the city through the window. She was training. She moved like someone who'd spent years learning how to hurt people.

"You were military," I said.

She didn't stop. "Once."

"Why did you leave?"

"Because I got tired of taking orders."

"And now you take orders from Adrian."

She paused. She looked at me. "It's different."

"How?"

"He doesn't ask me to do things I can't live with."

I considered that. "That's rare."

"Yes. It is."

She went back to training. I went back to watching the city.

---

At the end of the second week, I found myself in the living room at midnight.

I couldn't sleep. The nightmares were better, but they hadn't stopped. I didn't want to wake Adrian. He already had enough to deal with. So I sat in the dark, staring at nothing.

The door opened. Adrian walked in. He was still dressed. He'd been working late. He stopped when he saw me.

"You're awake," he said.

"I couldn't sleep."

He didn't ask why. He walked to the couch and sat down. Not too close. Not too far.

"Neither could I," he said.

We sat in silence. The city hummed outside. The clock ticked. I could hear his breathing.

"You don't have to stay," I said.

"I know."

"You should sleep."

"So should you."

Neither of us moved.

After a while, he said, "What did he do to you?"

I didn't pretend not to understand.

"He lied," I said. "He betrayed me. He tried to kill me. That's enough."

"That's not what I asked."

I looked at him. His face was half in shadow.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. There were things I couldn't explain. Things that made no sense unless you believed in second chances. In rebirth. In the impossible.

"I can't tell you," I said.

He didn't push. He just nodded.

"When you're ready," he said. "I'll listen."

He stood. He walked to the hallway. He paused.

"Try to sleep, Elena."

"You too."

He left. I stayed on the couch. I didn't sleep. But I felt something I hadn't felt in years.

Understood.

---

The next morning, I made coffee. He took it. I went to my office. He went to his. We met for dinner. We talked about nothing important. We slept in separate rooms.

But something had shifted. Something small. Something neither of us named.

I was starting to realize that Adrian Kane was not the man I thought he was.

And I was starting to realize that I didn't mind.

---

That night, I dreamed of falling again.

But this time, I didn't hit the ground.

I woke up with my heart pounding. I sat up. I waited for the fear to pass.

It didn't.

I got up. I walked to the living room. Adrian was already there.

He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't say anything. He just moved over on the couch.

I sat down beside him.

We stayed there until morning.