The night had never felt longer. The mansion reeked of smoke and broken glass, every corner filled with the echoes of chaos.
Adrian stood in the middle of it all, still in the blood-streaked shirt he had fought in. His eyes — those cold, gray storms — weren’t just angry anymore. They were haunted.
Natalie moved toward him slowly, one hand clutching the child to her chest. “Adrian, talk to me. Who were they?”
He didn’t answer at first. His jaw was tight, muscles coiled like a man fighting ghosts. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, dangerous.
“Someone I thought was dead.”
Natalie froze. “What?”
Adrian’s gaze shifted to the photo pinned to the wall — the one of Ethan with the red-inked threat. “Years ago, before you, before any of this, I was part of a deal that went wrong. A man
