Protection came with rules.
Adrian enforced them without discussion. A security detail appeared within the hour. Routes changed. Doors locked. And me—always beside him.
"Stay close," he said as we entered the hotel ballroom that evening. "Don't drift. Don't disappear."
"I won't," I replied, though my nerves hummed beneath my skin.
The event was crowded—executives, investors, people who smiled too easily. Eyes followed Adrian everywhere. And then they noticed me. The whispers came softly, curious, sharp.
Who is she?
Adrian felt it before I did. His hand settled at the small of my back—not a touch meant for comfort, but control. Possession. The gesture was subtle, deliberate, and instantly effective.
The whispers changed.
He leaned down, close enough that only I could hear. "You're with me. Remember that."
"I know," I said, though my heart raced.
Someone approached—a man with a too-curious smile. "Adrian, didn't know you were bringing personal staff now."
Adrian didn't remove his hand. Didn't soften his tone.
"She's not staff," he said evenly.
The silence that followed was sharp.
His fingers tightened slightly, anchoring me. "She's under my protection."
The message was clear. Public. Unmissable.
The man nodded quickly and retreated. I exhaled, breath shaky.
"That was… unnecessary," I murmured.
"No," Adrian replied quietly. "It was intentional."
He guided me through the crowd, never letting more than inches separate us. Every glance aimed my way was met with his cool, assessing stare. Every attempt at conversation was redirected. Controlled.
By the time we reached the balcony, the night air felt like relief.
"You didn't have to do that," I said softly.
"Yes," he replied, turning to face me, "I did."
His gaze searched my face, intense but careful. "They needed to understand you're not accessible."
"And what do you mean ?" I asked.
"That if anyone tries to reach you," he said quietly, "they go through me."
The words weren't romantic. They were dangerous.
And the closeness—the constant touch, the public claim—had crossed into something neither of us could pretend was just business anymore.
Adrian's hand remained at my back as we stood there, the city glittering below.
Forced closeness, yes.
But the way my pulse matched his body is alarming :
He wasn't just protecting me.
He was claiming me.