A message came while I was alone.
Unknown number. No greeting. No signature.
You don't belong in his world.
My breath caught. I stared at the screen, fingers cold, pulse pounding louder than reason.
Another message followed.
Leave before you get hurt.
I locked the phone, heart racing, scanning the quiet room like the walls themselves were listening. For the first time since entering Adrian's world, fear crept in sharp and real—not the abstract kind, but the kind that watched and waited.
Adrian found me minutes later. One look at my face and his entire demeanor changed.
"What happened?"
I hesitated. Then handed him my phone.
The air shifted the instant he read the messages. Something dark flickered behind his eyes—controlled, lethal. He didn't speak for a long moment.
"Did anyone approach you?" he asked.
"No."
"Follow you?"
"No."
His jaw clenched. "That will change."
He moved fast then—locking doors, checking security feeds, issuing quiet instructions into his phone. The calm efficiency was terrifying. This wasn't panic. This was preparation.
"You're not leaving my sight," he said firmly.
"I don't want to be the reason—"
He turned on me, sharp. "You are not a liability."
The intensity of his voice stole my breath. He stepped closer, hands braced on either side of me against the wall, not touching—but caging.
"This is my fault," he said quietly. "I underestimated how visible you'd become."
Visible.
"You're under my protection now," he continued. "And that's not negotiable."
I swallowed. "Adrian—"
"No," he interrupted, voice low and dangerous. "This is where control matters. Where I matter."
His gaze dropped to my lips—just once—before lifting again, dark and fierce.
"You don't walk alone," he said. "You don't answer unknown numbers. You don't leave without me."
"This sounds less like protection and more like possession," I said softly.
Something unreadable crossed his face.
"Call it what you want," he replied. "But no one touches what's under my care."
The words sent a shiver through me—not fear this time, but something deeper.
Because the line hadn't just been crossed by the threat.
Adrian had crossed one too.
And the way he looked at me now—focused, fierce, unyielding—I knew one thing for certain.
Whoever had targeted me had made a fatal mistake.