บททั้งหมดของ BLOOD AND PETALS: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Two nights after the opera hall incident, Adrian was back where he belonged.Warehouse 17. Dockside.Cold air. Oil-stained concrete. Twenty men lined up. No music. No speeches. Just business.Dmitri’s former captains were kneeling.Not because Adrian liked theatrics. Because they had been slow to respond when Dmitri started drifting. Slow meant suspicious.Luca stood beside him, tablet in hand. “We checked their calls. Two of them spoke to southern numbers last week.”Adrian didn’t look surprised. “Which two?”The men were dragged forward.One started talking immediately. “We didn’t betray you. We were just—”Adrian shot him in the leg.The scream echoed.“Don’t explain. Answer,” Adrian said calmly. “Did Valentina approach you?”The second man nodded quickly. “She said the east would be better protected under her.”“Did you agree?”“No.”Adrian crouched slightly so they were eye level. His voice didn’t rise. It never did.“If I find out later that you’re lying, I won’t shoot your leg.

Going to handle some of the offshore goods and inspecting some shipment,Adrian returned to the estate late, the city’s neon lights cutting thin stripes across his face. His hands were clean, but the tension in his shoulders told the story. Every shipment rerouted, every traitor dealt with, every move calculated it was exhausting, but it wasn’t over. It never was.Elena was waiting in the living room, Mateo asleep on her lap, a half-finished puzzle on the carpet beside them. She looked up when Adrian entered, a subtle smile on her face. Not relief. Not excitement. Just… calm, as if she had been waiting for him, as always.“You’re late,” she said, soft. Not accusatory, just noting the fact.“I had a meeting,” Adrian replied evenly. He set his jacket on the coat stand and came closer, he kissed her sofly. His gaze fell on Mateo. “He’s asleep?”“Yes,” Elena said. “Finally. He was determined to finish this puzzle himself.” She gestured to the scattered pieces on the floor.Adrian crouched

Adrian leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching Elena struggle with a pile of laundry. Mateo sat on the floor next to a basket, holding a tiny stuffed tiger upside down.“You’ve been staring at me for ten minutes,” Elena said, not looking up. “If you want something, just ask.”“I’m admiring how… domestic you are,” Adrian said, tilting his head.“Domestic?” Elena laughed, tossing a sock toward the basket. “Mateo’s not helping, and neither are you.”Mateo squealed, waving the tiger. “Papa help!”Adrian crouched down. “Okay, okay, tiger first.” He ruffled Mateo’s hair. “Then we tackle the laundry monster.”“You’re supposed to fold, not talk to him like he’s a 1986 general,” Elena said, smirking.“I am talking to him like a general,” Adrian replied, grabbing a small shirt. “Because he is commanding this household more than anyone else right now.”Mateo giggled and tried to throw the tiger at Adrian, missing spectacularly and hitting his own foot. “Oww!”Elena ran over, b

It had been almost two weeks since the warehouse issue.Things were calm again. Too calm.Adrian was back to coming home at decent hours. Mateo had learned how to say “mine” about everything. And Elena had started feeling restless.She missed the flower shop.Not because she needed the money.Because it was hers.The smell of fresh roses. The early morning deliveries. The old woman who bought lilies every Thursday for a husband who’d been dead ten years.It was simple.And lately, everything in her life felt… guarded.“Why are there still two men outside?” she asked one afternoon, peeking through the curtains.Adrian didn’t look up from the couch. “Because I put them there.”“You said it was handled.”“It is.”“Then why do I need a perimeter?”He glanced at her. “Because handled doesn’t mean predictable.”She stared at him for a second. “I want to go to the shop tomorrow.”He went still. Just slightly.“For what?”“For work.”“You don’t need to work.”“I didn’t say I needed to. I said

It was a Saturday.No meetings. No tension. No visible threats.Just breakfast crumbs and cartoons too loud on the television.Mateo was in one of those moods where sitting still was illegal.He ran from the couch to the hallway and back again, socks sliding on the floor.“Slow down,” Elena warned for the fifth time.“Fast!” he shouted proudly.Adrian was at the dining table, reading something on his tablet, but his eyes kept lifting every few seconds automatically.Always tracking.Mateo darted toward the kitchen.Adrian’s voice came without him looking up. “Not near the stove.”Mateo stopped mid-run, blinked at him, then turned dramatically in the other direction.Elena smiled. “He listens to you more.”“Well what can I say, I'm a good dad” Adrian replied.“indeed.”“Exactly.”A while later, Elena decided they needed air.“There’s a small park ten minutes from here,” she said. “Let’s go before he climbs the walls.”Adrian hesitated.It was subtle. But she saw it.“It’s gated,” she a