The flames had barely died down from the explosion at the northern docks when Adrian stormed into the safehouse. The building reeked of smoke, blood, and gasoline....a cocktail of chaos that clung to his skin like a second layer. Behind him, his men dragged in the last of the injured, their groans painting the silence in violent strokes.
Valentina stood in the far corner of the room, her eyes wide, her body untouched but trembling. Her heart had nearly stopped when she’d heard the first blast. It had taken every ounce of strength not to run into the fire looking for him. Now, seeing him there... smoke curling off his jacket, blood at his collar. she wasn’t sure whether to scream, cry, or collapse.
“You’re hurt,” she breathed.
Adrian didn’t answer. His eyes scanned the room, taking in hi
