OWNED BY THE ENEMY

Chapter 15 ~ A kiss in the Dark

Elena’s breath came in shallow gasps as she pressed against the cold, cracked wall of the warehouse. Her pulse pounded in her throat, still feeling the rush of the attack, the sound of gunfire echoing in her ears.

She barely had time to process what had just happened. The blood. The bodies. The way Adrian had moved through the chaos, silent and deadly, like a shadow of death.

And now, it was just the two of them.

Adrian had dragged her away from the burning warehouse before the entire thing went up in flames. The heat had been unbearable, licking at her skin as they sprinted through the darkness. But she wasn’t thinking about the fire anymore.

She was thinking about the man standing so close to her, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his jaw clenched tight. The way his dark eyes burned into hers.

“You shouldn’t have hesitated,” he murmured.

Elena swallowed hard.

She had hesitated. The moment Esposito had been on his knees before her, pleading for his life, she had frozen. The knife in her hand had felt heavier than it should have. And when she had finally acted, it had been too late.

Now, because of her delay, more men had come. They had almost lost the fight. Almost lost everything.

Adrian stepped closer, backing her against the wall.

She should have been afraid.

She wasn’t.

Adrian’s hand came up, his fingers brushing against her jaw, tilting her chin up. His touch was rough, calloused—nothing soft about it. His breathing was still uneven, his body tight with adrenaline.

“I needed to see if you meant what you said,” he murmured. “And you do.”

She held her breath.

“But you still flinched.” His fingers ghosted over her throat, making her pulse hammer. “You still fought yourself.”

Elena’s throat tightened. “I had never done that before.”

“You think I had?” Adrian asked, his voice low. “The first time I killed, I was a child. Do you know what it’s like to have to choose between survival and morality?”

Elena did.

Because she had just made that choice tonight.

“I know now,” she whispered.

Adrian studied her. Then, in one sharp motion, he stepped back.

“Come.” His voice was softer now, but no less commanding. “There’s still more to do.”

Elena blinked, thrown by the sudden distance between them. The heat, the raw energy that had crackled between them a moment ago, vanished.

She followed him out of the warehouse, past the bodies, past the scent of smoke and blood, past the destruction they had left behind.

Past the man she had just killed.

The Drive Back

The ride was silent.

Elena kept her eyes on the road ahead, even as she felt Adrian’s gaze flicker to her every so often.

He was watching her. Waiting for her to break.

She wasn’t going to.

Not tonight.

Her hands, still stained with blood, tightened on her lap.

She had made her choice.

And she wasn’t going to regret it.

Even if the weight of it settled deep inside her bones.

Adrian didn’t say a word the entire drive back to the penthouse. But as soon as they stepped into the elevator, the silence became unbearable.

He turned to her. “You’re quiet.”

Elena exhaled, rolling her shoulders as if to shake the tension loose. “What do you expect me to say?”

He studied her, his expression unreadable. “Most people would be shaking.”

“Maybe I’m not most people,” she shot back.

Adrian’s lips twitched, as if he were pleased by her answer.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the dim glow of the penthouse.

Elena barely made it two steps before Adrian grabbed her wrist.

“Elena,” he murmured, his voice lower now, quieter. “You did good tonight.”

Something inside her cracked.

Because she realized that was all she had ever wanted to hear.

That she had been useful. That she was more than just some pawn in her father’s game.

She swallowed hard. “I need a shower.”

Adrian didn’t stop her this time. He only nodded. “Go.”

She left him there in the entryway, his dark gaze following her every step.

Under Scalding Water

The hot water did nothing to wash away the memory of what she had done.

Elena watched as the blood swirled down the drain, disappearing in red ribbons.

Her stomach churned, but she didn’t let herself break.

She had no choice.

Her father had left her to die.

Adrian had saved her.

That man—Esposito—he had looked at her like she was nothing. Like she wasn’t a Romano, wasn’t someone to be feared.

But she had proven him wrong.

Hadn’t she?

A shiver ran through her, but she forced herself to breathe.

She was strong.

And she wouldn’t allow regret to crawl into her bones.

When she stepped out of the shower, steam curling around her skin, Adrian was waiting.

He leaned against the counter, watching her like a predator watches prey.

Only, she didn’t feel like prey anymore.

She felt like an equal.

Elena grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself. “You like lurking in doorways, don’t you?”

Adrian’s lips curled. “I like watching you.”

A shiver ran down her spine. Not from fear.

She took a step forward, gripping the edge of the towel tighter. “What do you want, Adrian?”

He didn’t answer right away. He took another slow step forward, until the heat of his body pulsed against hers.

“Do you know why I killed Esposito myself?” he murmured, eyes never leaving hers.

Elena swallowed. “Because he was working with my father.”

Adrian lifted a hand, trailing a slow finger down her arm. “Because he betrayed me.”

The words sent a thrill through her, dark and deep.

He was testing her.

Pushing her.

“You know what it feels like now,” he murmured, stepping even closer. “That moment when your heart turns to ice.”

Elena did.

And as much as she hated it—

She also craved more.

Her breath caught when Adrian’s hand closed over her wrist again. This time, it wasn’t a grip of restraint. It was something else.

Something dangerous.

Something thrilling.

The air between them was thick, heavy.

His lips were inches from hers, his breath hot against her skin. “Tell me you’re still the same, Elena,” he murmured. “Tell me you don’t feel it.”

She should push him away.

She didn’t.

Her fingers twitched against the towel. She could still feel the warmth of the gun in her hands, the weight of the knife he had pressed into her palm.

She had killed for the first time tonight.

And he was the only one who understood.

Elena tilted her chin up, looking into his dark, unreadable eyes.

“I feel it,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I hate it.”

Adrian’s fingers brushed against her throat. “Liar.”

He was too close.

And yet, she didn’t move away.

Because, god help her, she didn’t want to.

Her world had already shattered. Everything she thought she knew—everything she believed in—was gone.

Adrian had burned it all down.

And now he was here, standing so close, his dark gaze devouring her.

One breath.

That’s all it took.

Then his lips crashed onto hers.

The towel around her slipped slightly as he pushed her against the cool marble wall.

A gasp left her lips, but Adrian caught it, swallowing it into his own.

His hands, rough and possessive, gripped her hips, pulling her against him as if he were afraid to let her go.

She should hate him.

She should want to kill him.

Instead, she felt alive.

And that was the most dangerous thing of all.

Adrian’s fingers burned where they gripped Elena’s hips, his touch rough yet achingly deliberate. Her pulse pounded in her throat as she stared up at him, breath hitching. His scent—smoke, blood, and something darkly masculine—filled her senses, making her head spin.

She should pull away. She should shove him back and remember who he was—what he’d done to her.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she stood frozen, her heart waging war against her mind, torn between the hatred that had fueled her for years and the undeniable, searing heat that blazed between them.

Adrian’s hand moved, tracing the edge of the towel still clutched around her damp body. The fabric threatened to slip, and a dark smirk played at his lips when he saw the way her breath caught.

“You can say the word, Elena,” he murmured, voice dangerously low. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

But she didn’t.

She knew she should.

Her father would kill her for this.

But Adrian had already broken her. Already stripped her of everything she thought she knew. And standing this close to him, feeling the heat of his body radiate against hers, Elena realized something terrifying.

She wanted him.

Not just to use him.

Not just to survive.

She wanted him—his hands, his touch, his fire.

And he knew it.

His fingers brushed over her skin, trailing up her arm, sending electric pulses down her spine.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his lips so close to hers she could feel his breath. “Do you regret it?”

Her eyes searched his, looking for the hate that had burned so fiercely inside of him just hours before. It was still there—shimmering beneath the surface—but there was something else, too. Something darker.

Something that mirrored the same chaos she felt inside.

“No,” she said. “I don’t regret it.”

Adrian let out a quiet chuckle, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path up to her throat. Not to hurt her—just to remind her. To remind her that she wasn’t the same woman who had been stolen from a masquerade ball all those weeks ago.

She was something else now.

Something sharp.

Something his.

“Good girl,” Adrian murmured, his voice like velvet laced with steel.

A shiver ran down her spine, her fingers finally loosening on the towel. It slipped slightly, and before she could react, Adrian caught it, his knuckles brushing over her bare skin.

Elena sucked in a breath.

He lifted his gaze, watching her reaction, his jaw clenched tight. For a moment, it seemed like he was fighting himself, resisting something he wasn’t sure he should want.

Then he let go.

His hands fell away, leaving her standing there, breathless and aching. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice low, rough.

He turned and walked toward the door.

But something inside her snapped.

It was the same feeling she’d had back at the warehouse.

The realization that her life would never be the same again.

That she didn’t want it to be.

That she wanted this.

Her hand shot out before she could think twice.

She grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

He stilled.

She stepped closer.

Close enough to see the flecks of silver in his dark eyes. Close enough to feel the tension that coiled through his muscles, coiling tighter with every breath.

He was dangerous. Lethal. A monster in the shape of a man.

But she wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

Not when she could see the way his chest rose and fell, his breathing suddenly unsteady.

Not when his eyes burned for her the same way hers burned for him.

Elena stood on her toes, lifting herself closer. She hesitated only for a second—just a single moment—before her lips brushed his.

A sharp inhale. A pause.

Then Adrian’s control shattered.

A growl rumbled in his chest, and suddenly, his hands were on her—gripping her waist, pulling her against him, claiming her mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was brutal, possessive.

A declaration that she was his.

Elena gasped against his lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands tangling in her damp hair, tilting her head back.

Every inch of her burned. Every nerve ending ignited with something she couldn’t name.

There was no softness here. No tenderness.

Just heat.

Just need.

Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, her body pressing against his.

Adrian groaned against her mouth, breaking the kiss just long enough to mutter, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Elena’s fingers curled into his shirt. “Then show me.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest, and in one swift motion, he lifted her onto the counter. His hands spread over her thighs, his touch scorching through the thin fabric of the towel.

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

“Elena,” he murmured, his lips brushing over her jaw, the corner of her mouth, the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. “Tell me to stop.”

But she couldn’t.

Didn’t want to.

She tilted her head, baring her throat. Inviting him in.

His grip tightened. His breath was hot against her neck.

“You have no idea what you’re playing with,” he rasped. “How dangerous this is.”

Elena turned her head just slightly, brushing her lips against his jaw.

“Then teach me,” she whispered.

Adrian made a sound that was half growl, half curse, and in the next second, he crushed his lips against hers again, stealing her breath, stealing the last bit of hesitation she had left.

This was madness.

But it was a madness she would welcome.

A madness she wanted to drown in.

And from the way Adrian kissed her, the way his hands trembled slightly as they skimmed over her bare skin—she knew she wasn’t the only one.