The steel door didn't simply swing open — it tore from its hinges, ripped forward like a beast breaking free from a cage. The sound was deafening. Elara screamed as the slab of metal slammed into the floor, sending concrete dust and sparks into the air.
Adrian was already moving.
"Down!" he barked.
He shielded her with his body, pushing her behind the table just as the first burst of gunfire shredded through the doorway. Bullets ricocheted off the concrete walls, sharp metallic clangs echoing through the safe room.
Elara covered her head, trembling. The air filled with smoke and the acrid scent of gunpowder.
Adrian fired back — swift, controlled, lethal. "Two in the hall," he muttered. "Maybe more."
He shot once, twice. A cry of pain rang out. The shadow of a falling body collapsed against the doorway.
Another attacker rushed in. Adrian lunged, grabbing the man's wrist mid-strike, twisting it until the blade clattered to the floor. He spun the man around, slammed his head into the wall, and dropped him with a brutal efficiency that chilled Elara to the bone.
But she didn't once doubt he was her only chance of surviving this.
Breathing hard, Adrian reached for her, pulling her up. "We can't stay here. They'll send more."
"What do they want?" she whispered, voice shaking.
He didn't answer — not because he didn't know, but because they didn't have time.
Another explosion rocked the corridor outside. The lights overhead flickered violently. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Adrian forced her behind him again, navigating the smoke-filled hallway with expert precision. His grip on her wrist was tight, grounding her, even as fear clawed at her chest.
"Adrian—"
"Keep low. Don't stop."
His voice wasn't unkind — it was focused. Controlled. Deadly calm.
They slipped through the corridor, stepping over fallen bodies, dodging debris. The deeper they went, the darker the hallway became until the emergency lights cast only faint red strips along the floor.
Elara's breath hitched. "It's too dark. I can't see."
"I can," Adrian said.
And with that simple statement, she believed him.
They reached a sharp corner — and Adrian stopped abruptly.
He lifted a hand. Stop.
Elara froze.
Voices echoed from ahead. Two men. Maybe three.
Adrian pressed Elara back against the wall, body shielding hers. His hand covered her mouth gently before she could speak. She felt his breath against her ear as he leaned in close, whispering:
"Do not make a sound."
Her pulse raced. He was so close she could feel the heat of his body, the tension in his muscles, the intensity rolling off him like a storm. His hand on her mouth was steady, warm, strangely comforting despite the danger.
The voices grew closer.
"…boss said she's alive. She has to be. Spread out. Check every room."
"She's priority. Vale is secondary."
Adrian's jaw tightened against her temple.
Secondary.
He removed his hand slowly, eyes blazing with a fury she'd never seen in him before.
He leaned forward, whispering one word into her ear:
"Run."
"What—?"
"Run when I say. Not before."
Elara nodded, heart pounding so violently she felt dizzy.
Adrian stepped away just enough to draw his second weapon — a matte black combat knife hidden at his belt.
The voices rounded the corner.
One step.
Two.
Adrian moved first.
Silent. Precise. Devastating.
He grabbed the first man from behind, covering his mouth as he drove the blade into his ribs. The man dropped without a sound. The second attacker turned, too slow — Adrian tackled him, slamming him into the wall. They struggled for a moment, the attacker grunting, Adrian overpowering him easily before snapping his neck with a sickening crack.
The third man cursed, raising his gun—
"Now!" Adrian roared.
Elara bolted.
Her feet pounded against the concrete as she sprinted down the hallway. She didn't look back. Not even when gunfire erupted behind her. Not when a scream — she couldn't tell if it was Adrian's enemy or Adrian himself — echoed through the hall.
She only ran.
The hallway opened into another warehouse chamber — wide, empty, lit only by the storm light spilling through broken skylights. Rain dripped through cracks, pooling on the concrete floor.
Her breath came in sharp, ragged sobs. She spun, searching—
"Adrian?"
No answer.
The storm howled overhead, lightning flashing violently.
"Elara."
She gasped.
He emerged from the darkness, silhouette limping slightly, but still impossibly steady. His face was streaked with dust, sweat, and blood — not all of it his. His shirt clung to his chest, torn in places. But his eyes were locked on her, fierce and unbroken.
"You're hurt," she whispered.
He shook his head. "You're safe. That's what matters."
A lie. She could see the blood on his arm, the gash across his shoulder. He was hurt — badly. But he wasn't going to admit it. Not when she needed him strong.
Before she could speak, movement flashed to her right.
A fourth attacker. She hadn't seen him.
"Elara!" Adrian shouted.
The attacker tackled her. She hit the ground hard, air knocked from her lungs. The man pinned her, reaching for a knife.
Elara screamed, struggling, panic choking her.
Then Adrian was there.
He grabbed the man by the collar, yanked him up, and slammed his fist into the attacker's face with a raw, brutal force fueled by something deeper than rage.
Possession.
Protection.
Desperation.
The man collapsed, unmoving.
Adrian dropped to his knees beside her. "Elara. Look at me."
Her chest heaved, tears stinging her eyes. "I—I couldn't—"
"It's over," he murmured, pulling her up, hands firm but gentle. "It's over."
She shook, clutching his shirt as she tried to breathe.
His hand moved to the back of her head, steadying her. "As long as I'm breathing," he whispered, voice low and rough, "no one will touch you."
Her breath hitched. His closeness wasn't just comforting — it was devastating. His intensity wrapped around her like fire, warming her, terrifying her, consuming her.
He helped her stand. His arm stayed around her waist, supporting her as she steadied herself.
"We need to leave," he said. "There's an exit ahead — service tunnels. No one else knows them. They'll take us outside the perimeter."
Elara swallowed. "What if they followed us?"
"Let them try," he growled.
Her cheeks warmed at the fierce edge in his voice.
They moved together toward a metal door at the far end of the chamber. Adrian keyed in another code with shaking fingers. He tried to hide it, but she saw the tremor.
"You're really hurt," she whispered.
He didn't meet her eyes. "I'm fine."
"You're lying."
He hesitated — the smallest crack in his controlled exterior — before he finally said:
"I'll be fine when you're out of danger."
The lock clicked open.
But before either of them could take a step—
A voice echoed across the chamber.
"Vale."
Adrian froze.
Elara stiffened.
A man stepped from the opposite doorway — tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in dark tactical gear. His face was hidden behind a black mask. His stance was relaxed, confident.
Too confident.
Adrian's body coiled like a drawn bow. "You," he said quietly, hatred knotting the word.
Elara looked between them, heart hammering. "Who is he?"
The masked man laughed softly. "She doesn't know? That's adorable."
Adrian stepped forward, shielding her. "If you touch her—"
"I won't need to," the man said, raising a device and tapping the screen. "You brought her here. Same as we expected."
Elara felt cold. "Adrian… what is he talking about?"
Adrian clenched his fists. "Don't listen to him."
The masked man tilted his head. "She doesn't know the truth, does she? About why she was chosen."
Elara's pulse spiked. "Chosen?"
Adrian's voice hardened. "Shut your mouth."
"She should hear it," the man taunted. "After all… she's the reason you broke."
Elara's stomach dropped. "Adrian… what does he mean?"
Adrian didn't answer.
His silence was worse than any lie.
The masked man chuckled. "Tell her, Vale. Tell her she's not a random target. Tell her we didn't pick her by mistake."
Elara's heart pounded violently. "Adrian…"
His shoulders tensed.
"Elara," he said, voice tight, "we need to move—"
"No," she whispered, stepping back. "Tell me the truth."
Adrian turned toward her, and for the first time…
he looked afraid.
The masked man stepped closer. "She was chosen because of you. Because she is your weakness. Isn't that right, Vale?"
Elara's breath caught.
Weakness.
Adrian's jaw clenched. "Enough."
The masked man raised his gun.
Elara gasped.
Adrian moved instinctively, pushing her behind him.
But she was no longer afraid of the gun.
She was afraid of Adrian's answer.
"Adrian," she whispered, voice trembling, "am I really… your weakness?"
Silence.
The gun cocked.
Adrian stared at her — raw, conflicted, exposed.
Then he said the truth he had been hiding since the night began.
"Yes."
And the world exploded into chaos.