The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.
Elena stepped out slowly, her breath catching in her throat.
This wasn't a home.
This was a world.
A world of glass walls, marble floors, soft golden lighting, and a night city skyline stretching endlessly beneath them.
The penthouse felt almost unreal—beautiful, cold, and lonely.
Just like Adrian.
He walked ahead without looking back, removing his coat and placing it neatly on a glass stand.
"Welcome to your new home," he said flatly.
Elena froze.
"N-Not forever… right? Just… until the contract is over."
Adrian turned.
His eyes locked onto hers, sharp enough to make her forget how to breathe.
"I don't make temporary arrangements, Elena."
His voice was low, calm… too calm.
"You live here now. Get used to it."
Her hands clenched.
"That's not how normal employers act."
Adrian's jaw ticked.
He stepped closer.
"I'm not your employer."
His tone dropped.
"I'm the man who owns your year."
Elena's heart clenched painfully.
She hated the way he said it.
She hated even more how part of her reacted to it.
Adrian walked toward her again, slow and deliberate, until her back hit the nearest wall.
His hand lifted—not touching her, but close enough to command her breath.
"We need to establish the remaining rules," he said.
"R-Rules?" she whispered.
"Yes."
He raised his fingers one by one.
"Rule number five,"
"You don't shut me out."
Elena's brows furrowed. "What does that even mean?"
"It means," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips briefly,
"if you're hurting… I'm the one who needs to know."
Her breath stilled.
"Rule number six," Adrian continued,
"You don't lie to me."
"I don't lie—"
"You tried today," he cut in.
"When you called me your boss."
Elena froze.
He was still upset about that?
"You are my boss," she said.
Adrian leaned closer, voice brushing her cheek like a warning.
"I am not your boss."
He paused.
"Say it again… and I won't let it go."
Elena's heartbeat stumbled.
Before she could answer, a soft chime sounded from the kitchen.
A staff member had entered silently, placing bags on the counter.
Adrian didn't take his eyes off Elena as he spoke.
"Leave the groceries and go."
"Yes, sir."
The staff quickly slid out the door.
Now they were alone again.
Adrian stepped back, giving her space, but only slightly.
"I asked them to bring essentials for you," he said.
"Clothes. Shoes. Personal things."
Elena's eyes widened.
"You bought me clothes?"
"You need them."
"But you don't even know my size—"
"I guessed."
His tone was quiet.
"If it doesn't fit… I'll fix it."
She swallowed nervously.
Adrian moved to the kitchen counter, picked up a small silver key, and walked back to her.
"This is for your room."
"My… room?" she whispered.
He placed the key in her palm, closing her fingers gently around it.
"You sleep here," he said softly.
Elena blinked. "And you?"
"I sleep where I always sleep."
His voice dropped.
"Unless I need to be in your room."
Her breath caught.
"W-Why would you need that?"
His eyes darkened—not with anger, but with something far more dangerous.
"Elena," he whispered,
"Don't ask questions you aren't ready to hear the answers to."
Her heart pounded wildly.
Adrian stepped back just enough for her to breathe normally.
"Go rest," he said.
"I have a meeting tonight."
She nodded shakily and turned toward the hallway.
But before she could walk away, Adrian spoke again—quietly, almost reluctantly:
"Elena."
She turned, surprised.
His gaze softened—barely.
"You did well today."
A pause.
"Your sister is safe now. Because of you."
Her throat tightened.
It was the closest thing to kindness he had given her.
But Adrian didn't wait for a reply.
He simply turned away, picking up his coat.
As the door closed behind him, Elena's knees weakened.
Because slowly, painfully…
She realized that living with Adrian Blackwood was going to be more dangerous than she ever imagined.