Leah's breath caught as Adrian stepped closer, but there was nothing warm in his eyes.
No softness.
No concern.
Only calculation.
"You saw something you weren't supposed to," he said. "That's the only reason you're here."
Her chest tightened. "So what? You're threatening me?"
He gave a slow, lazy shrug. "I'm reminding you of your position."
Her stomach dropped. "Which is?"
"A witness," he said bluntly. "Which makes you useful… or disposable."
Her blood ran cold. "You can't just—"
"I can do whatever I want."
He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper.
"You stumbled into my world. I didn't invite you."
She hated how close he was. Hated how calm he sounded talking about death like it was weather.
"So why summon me?" she whispered. "Why drag me here?"
A faint smirk touched his mouth — cruel, amused.
"Because I wanted to see if fear would make you obedient."
Her pulse jumped. "Obedient?!"
"Most people break after seeing something like that."
His eyes swept over her, slow and assessing.
"You didn't. That… interests me."
She swallowed. "I don't want your interest."
"That's not your decision."
He turned away from her, dismissing her like she was nothing more than a file on a desk.
"You may go."
Leah blinked. "That's it? You call me across the city just to threaten me?"
"It wasn't a threat."
He looked over his shoulder, eyes cold enough to slice through her.
"It was clarity."
She backed into the elevator, fury and fear knotting in her gut.
Just before the doors closed, he added, almost bored:
"If you tell anyone what you saw… I'll know."
The elevator sealed shut, and Leah felt her legs tremble.
And now she was on his radar.
Leah barely slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw blood.
The alley. The gun. Adrian's cold stare telling her she was "useful or disposable."
By morning, her hands were still shaking.
She tried to go back to normal — work, customers, routine — but the fear stuck to her skin like sweat. Every sound made her jump. Every man in a suit looked like one of Adrian's.
By afternoon, she convinced herself she was being paranoid.
Until she noticed the black SUV parked across the street.
Same car from the night she saw everything.
Her heart lurched.
She wiped her palms on her apron and forced herself to look again.
Still there. Same tinted windows. No driver in sight.
She tried to focus on the espresso machine but kept glancing through the window.
Hours passed. The car didn't move.
When her shift ended, she stepped outside with her bag clutched tight. The air felt heavier, like the city was warning her to run.
She took a step toward the bus stop—
A hand grabbed her wrist.
Leah jerked back, but the grip tightened.
"Don't scream."
A tall man in a black coat pulled her toward a narrow alley behind the café.
She recognized him — Adrian's driver.
Her chest locked.
"I—I didn't do anything," she stammered.
He didn't answer. He reached into his coat, and Leah squeezed her eyes shut—
But instead of a weapon, he pulled out a phone.
Adrian's voice came through instantly, calm and sharp as a blade.
"Leah."
Her breath hitched. "What do you want now?"
"I told you I'd know if you couldn't keep quiet."
"I haven't told anyone!" she snapped.
"That's good," he said. "I'd hate to waste my time punishing you for something you didn't do."
Her stomach twisted. "Then why am I being kidnapped from behind a café?!"
"Kidnapped?"
He almost sounded amused.
"Don't flatter yourself. If I wanted you gone, you wouldn't be on the phone right now."
The driver released her wrist, stepping back, but blocking the exit.
Leah's voice shook. "So what is this?"
"A reminder."
She clenched her jaw. "Of what?"
"That your life is no longer… unconnected."
She hated how cold his tone was.
Hated how small it made her feel.
"You're saying I'm trapped."
"I'm saying," he corrected softly, "that you should be very careful who you talk to. And where you go."
She swallowed. "Are you threatening me again?"
"No," Adrian said. "I'm educating you. There's a difference."
She wanted to scream at him, curse him, throw the phone at the wall — anything.
Instead, her voice came out barely above a whisper.
"I want nothing to do with your world."
"That's irrelevant," he said.
"You stepped into it the moment you saw what you saw."
Silence stretched for a moment.
Then his voice dropped lower.
Rougher.
More dangerous.
"And I don't like loose ends, Leah."
The line cut.
The driver handed her the phone, nodded once, and walked away like nothing happened.
Leah stood there shaking, adrenaline burning through her veins.
She wasn't just a witness.
She was a liability.