ADRIAN'S POV
I couldn't feel my legs.
The ambulance was moving too fast, sirens screaming, paramedics shouting medical terms I didn't understand.
But I could hear one voice clearly.
Iris. Screaming my name as they'd pulled her away from me.
"Stay with us, Mr. Thorne!" A paramedic pressed something against my chest. Pain exploded through me. "Don't close your eyes!"
But my eyes were so heavy.
And there was something I needed to tell Iris. Something important.
The contract. The real last page.
Had she understood? Would she find it in time?
"We're losing him!" someone shouted.
Everything went black.
---
I woke up to beeping machines and white walls.
A hospital. I was in a hospital.
I tried to sit up. Pain shot through my entire body.
"Easy." A nurse appeared beside me. "You've been shot. You need to stay still."
"How long?" My voice was rough, painful.
"Six hours. You've been in surgery. The bullet missed your heart by two centimeters. You're very lucky."
Lucky. Right.
"Where's my wife? Iris—where is she?"
The nurse looked uncomfortable. "I don't know. The FBI took everyone for questioning. But Mr. Thorne, you need to rest—"
"Get me a phone. Now."
"Sir, you can't—"
"NOW!"
She hurried away. Came back with a phone.
I called Iris immediately. No answer.
Tried again. Straight to voicemail.
My heart rate spiked. The machines beeped frantically.
"Mr. Thorne, calm down or I'll have to sedate you—"
I called Catherine instead. She answered on the first ring.
"Adrian! Thank God. Are you okay?"
"Where's Iris?"
"I don't know. She left the hospital three hours ago. Said she needed to get something from your office." Catherine paused. "Adrian, what's going on? The FBI is asking me questions about contracts and marriages and—"
"Did she get it? The contract?"
"I don't know. I haven't heard from her since."
Fear gripped my chest worse than the bullet had.
"Find her. Use every resource we have. Find my wife."
"Adrian, what's happening?"
"Her father is going to kill her. Tonight. And I can't protect her from a hospital bed."
I hung up and tried to get out of bed. My legs gave out immediately.
The nurse caught me. "Mr. Thorne, you need to stay in bed! You'll tear your stitches—"
"Then stitch me up again!" I shoved her away—gently, but firmly. "My wife is in danger. I'm leaving."
"You can't! The doctor said—"
"I don't care what the doctor said." I grabbed my clothes from the chair. Everything hurt. Everything was on fire. But I kept moving. "Either help me get dressed or get out of my way."
She stared at me for a long moment. Then she sighed.
"You're insane," she muttered. But she helped me pull on my shirt—the one with the bullet hole and blood stains.
Five minutes later, I was in the elevator heading down. Every movement felt like knives in my chest, but I didn't care.
Iris was in danger.
Nothing else mattered.
James was waiting in the lobby with a car. My head of security—the one who'd betrayed me.
I stopped. "What are you doing here?"
"Saving your life. Again." He held up his hands. "I know you think I betrayed you. But I was working undercover for the FBI for six months. Everything I did was to build a case against your father and his associates."
"You let an assassin into my building."
"A fake assassin. An FBI agent playing a role. We needed everyone to believe you were vulnerable." He gestured toward the car. "But right now, that doesn't matter. What matters is that Iris went to your office three hours ago and never came out. The security cameras show her entering, but there's no footage of her leaving."
My blood turned to ice. "Someone took her."
"Or she found something. Something that made her go into hiding." James opened the car door. "Either way, we need to find her before her father does."
I got in the car. Every bump in the road sent pain shooting through my chest.
"Drive to my office. Now."
We made it there in ten minutes. I stumbled out of the car, ignoring James's attempts to help me.
The building was dark. Empty. Everyone had gone home hours ago.
We took the elevator to my floor. The office door was unlocked.
Someone had been here.
I went straight to my desk. Third drawer. Right where I'd told Iris to look.
The contract was gone.
But there was a note in its place.
Adrian, I found the real last page. I understand now. I understand everything. But my father found me. He's taking me to the place where it all started—where your mother really died. He says it's poetic. He says this is where I'll die too. I'm so sorry. I should have been more careful. Please don't come after me. He's expecting that. He has men everywhere. If you come, you'll die. The FBI has all the evidence they need. Let them handle this. Let me go. Save yourself. —Iris
Let her go?
Was she insane?
I crumpled the note in my fist.
"Where did your mother die?" James asked quietly.
"The Hartwell Industries building. The old one. Downtown." I was already moving toward the door. "That's where he's taking her."
"Adrian, you can barely walk. You need backup—"
"Then get me backup. But I'm going. Now."
We drove through Manhattan at speeds that should have gotten us arrested. James was on the phone the whole time, coordinating with the FBI, getting teams in place.
But I knew we'd be too late.
Iris's father was smart. Careful. He wouldn't wait for the FBI to arrive.
He'd kill her the moment he had what he wanted.
Whatever that was.
"What was on the real last page of the contract?" James asked. "The one Iris found?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't answer.
Because that page contained a secret I'd never meant for anyone to discover.
A secret that changed everything.
We pulled up to the old Hartwell building. Twenty stories of abandoned offices, the place where my father had built his empire before moving to bigger locations.
The place where my mother had died.
Or so I'd thought.
Now I knew the truth. She'd died, but not the way Marcus had said. Not the way I'd believed for twenty years.
She'd been murdered. By Iris's father and mine, working together.
And now they were going to kill Iris in the same place.
"FBI is three minutes out," James said. "We should wait—"
I was already running toward the entrance.
Pain exploded through my chest with every step. Blood seeped through my bandages.
But I kept moving.
Had to keep moving.
Had to save her.
The building was dark inside. Abandoned. Dangerous.
I found the stairwell and started climbing. Twenty floors. My chest screamed in protest.
But I didn't stop.
Couldn't stop.
On the twentieth floor, I heard voices.
"—should have stayed away from my family," a man was saying. Iris's father. "Should have married Damien like you were supposed to. Everything would have been fine."
"Fine?" Iris's voice was shaking but angry. "You murdered my mother for her money! You helped Adrian's father fake his death! Nothing about that is fine!"
"Your mother was weak. She would have wasted that trust fund on charity and nonsense. I used it to build something real. Something powerful."
"You used it to fund criminal enterprises. The FBI knows everything."
"The FBI can't touch me. I have powerful friends. Friends who will make sure I walk away from this." A pause. "But you won't. You're going to jump from this window, just like Adrian's mother did. Another tragic suicide. Another broken woman who couldn't handle the pressure."
"Adrian will find you. He'll make you pay—"
"Adrian is dying in a hospital bed. Even if he survived surgery, he's too weak to save you now."
I stepped out of the stairwell.
"Want to bet?"
Iris's father spun around, gun raised.
But I was faster.
I'd spent twenty years preparing for this moment. Twenty years learning to fight, to survive, to protect what was mine.
I tackled him before he could fire.
We hit the ground hard. My chest screamed. Blood poured from my wound.
But I didn't let go.
"Iris, run!" I shouted.
"I'm not leaving you!"
"GO!"
She ran toward the stairs.
Iris's father shoved me off. I was too weak. Too hurt.
He raised his gun.
Aimed at Iris's back.
I threw myself between them.
The shot rang out.
Fire exploded in my shoulder.
I went down hard.
Through blurry vision, I saw Iris turn back. Saw her scream.
Saw her father aim at her again.
Then the door burst open.
FBI agents swarmed in. Shouting. Guns drawn.
Iris's father dropped his weapon and raised his hands.
"Don't shoot! I surrender!"
They tackled him. Handcuffed him. Dragged him away.
Iris ran to me. Her hands pressed against my wounds, trying to stop the bleeding.
"You idiot!" she was crying. "I told you not to come! I told you to save yourself!"
"Can't." I coughed. More blood. "Have to... protect... what's mine."
"I'm not yours. It's just a contract, remember? Just business."
"Read... the real... last page," I managed. "Then you'll... understand."
"What's on it? What did you hide from me?"
I smiled. It hurt. Everything hurt.
"The truth. That I... changed the contract... the night before... we got married."
"Changed it how?"
"No divorce clause. No end date. No... separation." My vision was going dark. "Made it... permanent. Real."
Her eyes went wide. "What?"
"You're my wife. Forever. Not for... one year. Forever." I touched her face. "Fell in love... with you... before we... even met."
"Adrian, no. Stay with me. Don't close your eyes—"
But I was so tired.
And the darkness was calling.
"Love you," I whispered.
Then everything went black.
---
When I woke up again, Iris was beside my hospital bed.
She was holding a piece of paper.
The real last page of the contract.
Her eyes met mine.
"You're insane," she said.
"Probably."
"You changed our one-year contract into a permanent marriage without telling me."
"Yes."
"That's illegal. Unethical. Completely wrong."
"I know."
She was quiet for a long moment.
Then she smiled.
"Good thing I'm in love with you too, then."
She leaned down and kissed me.
It hurt. Everything hurt.
But I'd never felt better in my entire life.
Outside the hospital room, I could hear sirens.
Not ambulances this time.
Police cars.
Lots of them.
James appeared in the doorway, his face grim.
"Adrian, we have a problem. A big one."
"What now?"
"Your father. He's escaped FBI custody." James looked between me and Iris. "And he left a message. Says this isn't over. Says he's coming to finish what he started."
Iris's hand tightened in mine.
"How long do we have?" I asked.
"He escaped twenty minutes ago. Could be anywhere by now."
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number. Of course.
I opened the text.
It was a photo of the hospital from outside. Current. Recent.
Below it: I'm already here. Both of you will die tonight. Together. Just like you wanted. —Father
The lights in the hospital went out.
Emergency generators kicked in, casting everything in red.
And somewhere in the darkness, my father was hunting us.
The game wasn't over.
It was just beginning.