The room was soft and warm, the sheets smelled faintly of something expensive and clean, and the city lights outside painted golden shadows across the ceiling — but her mind wouldn't settle.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Adrian.
The way he had looked at her at dinner.
The quiet command in his voice.
The rules.
Especially rule two.
You don't disappear on me again.
Her chest tightened.
No one had ever noticed that about her — the way she shut down when life got too heavy.
But he had.
After one night.
She sighed and turned onto her side, hugging the pillow.
What was she doing here?
Why was he being… gentle?
She didn't understand him.
She wasn't sure she understood herself.
A soft sound made her freeze.
A footstep.
Quiet. Slow. Outside her door.
Her breath held.
Then a knock — deep, controlled, the kind of sound that knew it would be answered.
"Zara."
His voice.
Her heart flipped so hard she had to sit up.
She opened the door slowly.
Adrian stood there barefoot, shirt undone at the collar, hair slightly tousled like he'd run his hand through it one too many times.
He wasn't the polished billionaire right now.
He looked… human. Tired. Real. Powerful in a quiet, devastating way.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Zara blinked. "How did you—"
"You pace when you're anxious," he said simply. "I heard you."
She hadn't even realized she'd been pacing.
He stepped inside before she could protest — not invading, just… entering like he belonged there.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Or maybe he was just too much for any room.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Zara shook her head. "Nothing. I just… couldn't sleep."
Adrian studied her face with that unnerving focus of his, the kind that made her feel like he saw things she didn't want exposed.
"Nightmares?" he asked softly.
"No. Just… thoughts."
He nodded once. Slow. Understanding.
Then he did something she didn't expect.
He sat beside her on the bed.
Not close.
Not touching.
Just enough to let her know he wasn't leaving.
"You don't have to tell me anything," he said. "Just… don't lie about being fine."
Zara swallowed. "I'm trying."
"I know." His voice softened. "That's enough."
She looked down at her hands. "Why do you care so much?"
A long pause.
Then, quietly:
"Because I see you."
Her breath caught.
He leaned back slightly, bracing his palms on the mattress, eyes still on her.
"You walk like you're carrying something heavy," he said. "You talk like you're trying not to inconvenience anyone. You look people in the eyes, but only for a second, like you're afraid they'll see too much."
Zara felt her throat close.
"Adrian…"
"And you hide your fear behind strength."
Another breath.
"That's why I care."
It was too much. Too raw. Too honest.
Zara blinked fast, fighting the sting in her eyes.
She didn't cry in front of people.
She didn't open up.
Not like this.
But Adrian wasn't pushing her.
He wasn't demanding anything.
He was just… here.
"You're doing it again," he said gently.
She sniffed. "Doing what?"
"Disappearing."
Her lips parted — a tiny, broken sound escaping.
He reached forward slowly — giving her time to pull away — and when she didn't, he resting his hand lightly over hers.
Warm. Steady. Solid.
Zara's entire body went still.
"You're allowed to fall apart," he murmured. "You don't have to be steel all the time."
"I'm not falling apart," she whispered, voice shaking.
"You're trembling," he said. "That counts."
Her inhale hitched painfully.
And then, unexpectedly — humiliatingly — a hot tear slid down her cheek.
She turned her face away, but Adrian was faster.
His fingers tilted her chin gently back toward him.
"No hiding."
Her breath came shallow. "I'm not—"
He wiped the tear with his thumb, slow and deliberate.
"You don't owe me strength, Zara."
She broke.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just a soft, helpless sound as she leaned forward, forehead brushing his shoulder — not a hug, just a collapse she couldn't stop.
Adrian exhaled shakily — like he wasn't expecting that.
But he raised a hand to her back, not pulling her close, just grounding her, steady and warm.
"Good," he whispered.
"Let it out."
Zara didn't cry long.
Just enough to breathe again.
When she finally pulled back, cheeks flushed, she whispered, "You shouldn't… see me like this."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"I want to."
Her eyes widened.
"I want all of your sides," he continued softly.
"The strong one. The quiet one. The scared one."
A pause.
"And the stubborn one who thinks she doesn't need anyone."
Heat coiled low in her stomach.
He stood then, slowly, like pulling himself away from her took effort.
"You should sleep," he said gently.
But before he reached the door, he paused.
"Zara."
She looked up.
"If you have another restless night…"
He held her gaze, voice dropping to something deep and promising.
"You call me. You don't face it alone."
Her heart stumbled.
He opened the door.
"Goodnight," he said.
"Goodnight," she whispered.
The door closed softly.
Zara sank back onto the bed, chest warm, head spinning.
She wasn't sure which of his rules she'd just broken.
Or which one he would set next.
But she was sure of one thing:
She was far from done with Adrian Kole.