Security rushed in waves, scanning corners, shouting orders, resetting the perimeter. Reporters were pushed back, cameras lowered. The sharp echo that had startled the entire building turned out to be a metal lighting rig slamming against the floor after someone bumped it.
Not a gunshot.
But close enough to send everyone into panic.
Elena stayed pressed against Adrian until the world stopped spinning around them. His hand never loosened. His body stayed in front of hers like a wall made of breath and bone and stubbornness.
Only when the noise died and Victor approached did Adrian finally straighten.
"It's clear," Victor said. "The rig fell. No signs of tampering."
Adrian didn't look relieved.
He didn't trust coincidence.
He turned to Elena, studying her face like memorizing every shift in her breathing.
"You're shaking."
"I'm fine," she whispered.
"You're not."
He stepped closer.
For a heartbeat, Elena thought he might pull her into him. Thought he might finally give in to what she saw in his eyes when danger closed in around them.
But he didn't.
He forced a breath out, forcing himself back behind his walls.
"We're leaving," he said. "Now."
He placed a hand on her back, guiding her through the staff corridor while security flanked them. Cameras still flashed behind the door, muffled but relentless.
The moment they stepped outside, a fresh crowd waited.
Adrian's jaw hardened.
"Eyes forward," he murmured to her.
She nodded, and they kept moving.
This time, the noise didn't matter.
Because Elena felt something new in Adrian's hold.
Not possession.
Not performance.
Fear.
The car ride back to the estate was dead quiet. Elena's pulse was still running too fast. She kept replaying the moment when the sound hit the room. The screams. The panic. The way Adrian threw himself in front of her like instinct, like reflex, like a man who'd spent his entire life shielding things more fragile than his own hands.
He stared out the window the whole ride, jaw locked tight enough to break.
Only when they reached the estate gates did he finally speak.
"Upstairs," he said softly. "We need to talk."
Her heart stumbled.
Not because his voice was harsh.
But because it wasn't.
It was tired.
Worn.
Almost defeated.
She followed him through the marble foyer, past the staff who pretended not to stare, and up the carved staircase. He didn't speak until they reached the third floor, the part of the estate she had never been inside.
He stopped in front of a door made of dark glass.
A biometric lock scanned his hand.
The door slid open.
A cold rush of air brushed her skin.
Inside waited a room unlike anything else in the estate.
A wall of transparent screens. Satellite feeds. Live surveillance of half the city. Lines of code. Heat maps. Threat matrices. A digital battlefield.
Adrian stepped in, and the room seemed to shift with him.
"This," he said quietly, "is why I kept you at a distance."
Elena swallowed. "This is… your command center."
"This is where I spend every night," he said. "Tracking movements. Watching patterns. Predicting threats before they reach my family."
She froze.
"Your… family?"
His eyes flickered when he realized what he said, but he didn't take it back.
He walked deeper into the room, screens blinking to life as if sensing his mood.
"When Ferris resurfaced," Adrian continued, "I knew he'd go after everything that mattered to me."
He turned.
The look he gave her wasn't cold.
It was raw.
"You matter."
Her breath hitched.
He didn't give her time to react.
He tapped the first screen.
A map of the city appeared.
Red dots clustered around the estate.
"This is last night," he said. "The cars you saw? They weren't random. They were scouts. Testing the perimeter."
She stepped closer, arms curling around herself. "And the men who attacked the gala?"
"Mercenaries. Bought loyalty. Disposable."
Another screen lit up.
Ferris Dane's profile.
Cold eyes. Thinning hair. The smile of someone who collected secrets not because he needed them, but because he liked having power over people.
"He's not after the company," Adrian said. "That's just leverage."
"Then what does he want?"
Adrian looked her straight in the eyes.
"He wants to break me."
Her pulse stumbled. "But why target me?"
"Because you're the only thing I can't afford to lose."
The words landed between them like an earthquake.
Elena's breath trembled. "Adrian…"
"I tried to keep you out of this," he said. "I tried to keep you at arm's length because if I let myself..."
He stopped.
She waited.
The silence tightened between them.
"If I let myself care about you," he said quietly, "I give Ferris a weapon."
Her throat twisted. "Adrian… caring doesn't make you weak."
"It makes you a target."
"No," she whispered. "It makes you human."
His jaw tightened. He stepped away as if afraid of what he'd say next.
He tapped another feed.
Live footage.
From the estate's perimeter.
Eight new vehicles.
All black.
All parked.
All unmarked.
Her stomach dropped. "They're back?"
"They never left," Adrian said. "They're waiting for something."
She turned to him. "Waiting for what?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then...
"For me to slip," he said. "Or for you to be unprotected again."
Her skin chilled.
"Then what do we do?"
Adrian finally faced her.
"We stop reacting," he said. "We start acting."
She frowned. "Meaning?"
"We go on the offensive."
Her breath caught. "Adrian..."
"I won't let them take control of this," he said. "Not the narrative. Not the city. And definitely not you."
There it was again.
That fierce protectiveness.
That barely contained fear.
She stepped closer without thinking.
"Adrian… you don't have to do this alone."
He looked down at her, eyes shadowed, tired, fighting a war on too many fronts.
"I do," he murmured. "Because the moment I let someone stand beside me, I risk losing them."
"Then risk it," she said softly.
He froze.
"Elena..."
"Risk it," she repeated. "Because I'm already in this with you."
For the first time since she met him, Adrian Vale looked… undone.
Not because of fear.
Because of hope.
A quiet knock broke the moment.
Victor entered, face pale.
"Sir," he said. "You need to see this. Immediately."
Adrian's eyes didn't leave Elena's for a long, heavy beat.
Then he turned to Victor. "What is it?"
Victor handed him a tablet.
Adrian's jaw locked.
Elena leaned in and her blood ran cold.
Because on the screen was a picture taken less than an hour ago.
A man.
Standing outside the estate wall.
Holding a single white envelope.
On the front of it, written in sharp, confident letters, was her name.
ELENA VALE
Her entire body went cold.
Adrian's did too.
But his fear didn't show the same way.
His fear turned into fury.
"Find him," Adrian said, voice lethal. "Find him now."
"Already on it," Victor said, rushing out.
Elena stood frozen, staring at her name on the envelope.
Adrian took the tablet from her shaking hands.
"Elena."
She looked up.
His eyes were burning.
Not with anger.
With something far deeper.
"From this moment on," he said, "you're never out of my sight."
She didn't argue.
Not this time.
Because for the first time…
She understood just how far the enemy was willing to go.
And how far Adrian was willing to go to stop them.