The Mafia's Fragile Rose

Chapter 12

Adrian's POV

Consciousness came slowly, filtering through the haze of deep sleep and satisfaction. My body felt heavy, relaxed in a way it hadn't in months. The morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows painted everything in gold the scattered clothes on the floor, the empty wine glasses on the nightstand, the woman sleeping beside me.

Aria.

She lay curled on her side, dark hair spilled across my pillow, her face peaceful in sleep. The sheet had slipped down, revealing the curve of her shoulder, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. Beautiful. Mine.

I started to reach for her, to wake her with kisses along that elegant neck, when I saw it.

A small stain on the white sheets. Dark rust-colored against the Egyptian cotton. My hand froze mid-reach, my mind suddenly sharp, cutting through any lingering drowsiness.

Blood.

My chest tightened as the implications hit me like a physical blow. I sat up carefully, not wanting to wake her, my eyes fixed on the evidence of what I'd taken last night. What she'd given me.

Her first time.

"f**k," I breathed, running a hand through my hair. The memory came rushing back her sharp intake of breath when I'd entered her, the way her body had tensed, her fingers digging into my shoulders. I'd thought it was just nerves, just the intensity of the moment.

But it wasn't. She'd been a virgin, and she hadn't told me.

Why hadn't she told me?

I studied her sleeping face, searching for answers in the soft curve of her lips, the flutter of her eyelashes. She looked so young lying there, so innocent despite what we'd done. What I'd done to her.

A dozen emotions warred in my chest guilt, possessiveness, tenderness, and something darker. Something that whispered mine in a way that had nothing to do with business or control and everything to do with claiming.

I'd been her first. Her only. That knowledge settled into my bones like molten metal, branding me from the inside out.

But with it came responsibility. She wasn't just another conquest now, another woman who'd shared my bed and could walk away unchanged. She was... more. Something precious that I'd handled carelessly because I hadn't known.

I rose quietly, padding to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. In the mirror, I looked the same as always sharp features, gray eyes that revealed nothing, the faint marks she'd left on my shoulders during the night. But something had shifted. Something fundamental.

When I returned to the bedroom, she was stirring. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she made a soft sound of confusion before her eyes opened fully and found mine.

"Adrian?" Her voice was husky with sleep, uncertain.

"Morning," I said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Up close, I could see the flush still lingering on her skin, the slight soreness in her movements as she pulled the sheet higher.

She followed my gaze to the stain on the sheets, and her face went crimson. She tried to pull the covers over it, as if hiding the evidence could undo what had happened.