Morning arrived with a brittle calm. The kind that followed violence, not peace.
Adrian stood at the window, phone pressed to his ear, issuing quiet instructions that carried the weight of finality. His posture was relaxed, but I knew better. This was the stillness before he struck.
"They've agreed to meet," he said when the call ended. "Neutral ground. Public."
My pulse quickened. "That sounds like a trap."
"It is," he replied calmly. "For them."
The venue was a private lounge overlooking the city—glass walls, too many exits, too many eyes. Adrian walked in like he owned the air itself, his hand resting lightly at my back. Not hiding me. Showing me.
The antagonist was already there. The woman from before sat beside a man with cold eyes and an expensive smile—the kind that didn't reach the soul.
"So," the man said, standing. "You finally brought her."
Adrian's grip tightened. "Watch your tone."
The man laughed softly. "You've made yourself predictable, Blackwood. Feelings do that."
"Yes," Adrian agreed. "They also clarify priorities."
He stepped forward, placing himself fully between them and me. "You threatened someone under my protection. That ends today."
The woman's gaze flicked to me, sharp with resentment. "You chose her over everything."
Adrian didn't hesitate. "I chose what matters."
The man leaned in, lowering his voice. "You've lost leverage. Allies. Influence."
Adrian smiled—slow, dangerous. "No. I redirected it."
Screens around the lounge lit up suddenly—documents, recordings, transfers. Evidence. Confessions. The room shifted as whispers spread, eyes turning wary.
"You came for control," Adrian continued evenly. "I came to end you."
Security moved in swiftly. The man's smile cracked. The woman's composure shattered.
As they were escorted away, Adrian finally turned to me. The steel in his expression softened, just for a moment.
"It's over," he said.
I exhaled, tension draining from my body. "You didn't have to do all that."
"Yes," he replied quietly. "I did."
Outside, the city stretched endlessly below us—unchanged, uncaring. But everything between us had shifted.
Adrian Blackwood had faced his enemies and won.
Not with power alone.
But with choice.
And as his hand found mine, steady and sure, I knew this wasn't the end of our story.
It was the beginning of a different kind of empire—one built not on fear or control, but on trust, loyalty, and love chosen openly.