The billionaire's forbidden pit stop

Episode 6: Fractured Walls

"Take me out of this goddamn wall, Novak! I swear to f*****g God, if you don't pull me out right now, I will ruin you!" Asaliya’s voice echoed

aggressively across the dark, manicured lawn of the estate. She was hanging half-dangled from the tiny bathroom window, her fingers clawing at the outer stone wall as she let out a relentless stream of breathless curses. "You psycho! You absolute piece of trash! Untie my legs or break this f*****g wall down!"

"your legs are already untied sweetheart "

Adrian didn't even blink after saying that. He calmly turned around, walking over to one of the massive tactical guard vehicles parked nearby. With slow, completely unfazed movements, the 6'2" billionaire hopped up and sat casually on the warm matte-black bonnet, crossing his long legs at the ankles. He watched her struggle with an icy, mocking indifference, completely unbothered by her venomous tongue.

Suddenly, his personal phone vibrated violently in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered it.

"Novak," he spoke into the receiver, his voice deep and entirely level.

"Adrian, *putain*, where the hell are you?" Ren's loud, static-laced voice came through the speaker. "The data engineers are losing their minds over the rear-wing telemetry for tomorrow's qualifying session. What’s our strategy for the high-speed sectors? Are we running the low-downforce setup or sticking to the FP1 baseline?"

"We run the low-downforce configuration for the first sector," Adrian replied calmly, completely tuning out the background noise of Asaliya screaming another round of furious profanities at him. "The Apex-Phantom can handle the chicane entry if we stiffen the rear anti-roll bar. Tell the mechanics to adjust the suspension geometry by two millimeters before the morning brief."

"Hey! Shut the f**k up and pay attention to me, you arrogant bastard!" Asaliya screamed from the window, her body twisting violently as she tried to force her hips through the tight wooden frame.

Adrian didn't even spare her a glance, keeping the phone pressed tightly to his ear. He thought she was simply throwing a tantrum, fueled by her massive, toxic ego because she was stuck in a ridiculous position.

"Got it," Ren muttered over the line, though he paused, hearing the faint, high-pitched shouting in the background. "Wait... is someone screaming over there? Are you at a track or—"

"Adrian! *Ah!*—"

The second scream didn't sound like the others. It wasn't an angry shout or a stubborn curse. It was a sharp, blood-curdling cry of pure, agonizing terror that ripped through the quiet night air.

Adrian’s scary black eyes instantly snapped toward the wall.

Asaliya’s foot had completely slipped off the slick marble counter inside. The sudden, violent shift in her weight caused her entire body to violently dislodge from the tight frame. She was literally falling headfirst toward the hard gravel below.

"Ren, I'll call you back," Adrian barked, tossing the phone straight onto the bonnet of the vehicle.

With the immense, split-second reaction speed of a world-champion racing driver, Adrian’s muscles coiled and exploded into motion. He lunged off the car, his boots tearing into the gravel as he sprinted toward the stone wall. But despite his lightning-fast instincts, the distance was too great. The physics of the fall were unforgiving.

*Thud.*

Asaliya crashed heavily onto the hard ground before he could reach her. Her body twisted awkwardly, and her left wrist took the full, brutal force of the impact against the stones.

"Agh! *f**k!* Dammit, my wrist!" Asaliya shrieked, curling into a tight ball on the dirt. Tears of blinding, overwhelming pain flooded her eyes as she clutched her arm against her chest, her entire body shaking violently. She sobbed, the agony rendering her completely breathless as she buried her face in the grass, still trying to mumble broken curses through her teeth. "You... you son of a bitch..."

Within seconds, the heavy footsteps of four broad-shouldered guards echoed across the lawn as they rushed over to the situation, their faces tense. Adrian raised a sharp, commanding hand, instantly halting them in their tracks. "Stay back," he growled.

Adrian dropped to his knees in the dirt beside her. Without a single word, he carefully slipped his large, powerful arms beneath her trembling frame. Even though she was crying and pushing weakly against his chest with her uninjured hand, hissing every profanity she could muster, Adrian ignored her resistance entirely. He picked her up effortlessly, cradling her small body against his chest as he stood up.

As he walked rapidly back toward the house, a dark sense of relief washed over him. It was a miracle of absolute luck that this secret estate was built on only one single floor. If the bathroom window had been on a second story, the brutal impact from that height would have definitely broken her spine.

He marched into a nearby guest bedroom and laid her down gently on the mattress. Asaliya lay flat on her back, her face pale, tears streaming down her cheeks as she wept from the throbbing, hot agony radiating from her forearm.

Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, his face completely expressionless as he grabbed her injured arm.

"Don't touch me! Get the f**k away from me!" she cried out, trying to yank her arm back, but Adrian’s grip was like an iron vice—unyielding, yet surprisingly careful.

"Shut up and hold still," he commanded, his low voice vibrating with an icy authority that forced her to freeze.

With practiced, methodical discipline, Adrian’s large fingers began to expertly examine her swollen wrist. He gently rotated the joint, feeling the alignment of the bones. He knew standard trauma care from years of high-speed racing accidents. After a few tense moments of checking the swelling, he let out a low breath. It was not broken, but it was a severe, deeply painful sprain from the awkward impact.

He reached for a first-aid kit on the nightstand, quickly wrapping her wrist in a tight, supportive compression bandage, his movements efficient and precise.

Asaliya lay perfectly still, staring at him through tear-blurred eyes. Her sharp mind was frantically scanning the room, desperately searching for a single loophole, a dropped key, or a chance to run away. But as her gaze drifted toward the open doorway, she saw the dark silhouettes of three massive guards standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the hallway. She couldn't run. With her sprained ankle and damaged wrist, she physically wouldn't make it past the door.

"I am going to report this," Asaliya hissed, her voice trembling with a mixture of pain and pure, unadulterated venom. She glared at his handsome, stone-cold face. "The moment I get out of here, I will take everything I have on you. I will expose your legal contracts, your private life, your f****d-up security. I will make your life a living, breathing hell, Adrian Novak."

Adrian finished securing the bandage and slowly stood up, towering over the bed. He looked down at her, a cold, mocking smile touching his lips. "You can certainly try, sweetheart. But before you can make my life horrible, you actually have to run away from me first. And as you can see, that is physically impossible."

He leaned down, his dark, scary eyes locking onto hers with a suffocating intensity. "So just accept your defeat. Look me in the eye, tell me you will stop this media mess, and we can put an end to this tonight."

"Never," Asaliya snarled, her jaw tightening. "Go screw yourself."

Adrian’s patience completely shattered. A dark, terrifying wave of anger took over his features. He reached down and aggressively grabbed her chin, his fingers clamping hard against her jawline, forcing her face up to meet his furious gaze. He was completely out of time. He had a world championship to win, qualifying sessions to prepare for, and a multi-billion-dollar empire to run. He had absolutely zero time to deal with this stubborn, irritating s**t—but he was forced to because she had dragged his brothers, Felix and Ren, into her dangerous tabloid games.

"I am done playing with you," Adrian whispered, his voice dangerously low, his grip tightening just enough to make her wince. "You are going to speak, or I will make sure you never see a camera again."

Despite the terrifying pressure on her jaw, Asaliya didn't back down. A twisted, defiant smile broke across her lips, her eyes flashing with a wicked mockery. She looked at his furious, dark expression and let out a cold laugh. "Look at you. You really don't know how to do anything else, do you? You don't know anything other than being a ruthless, pathetic asshole... just like your father."

The air in the room instantly turned to sub-zero ice.

Adrian’s brain clicked, the words echoing like a sudden explosion in his mind. In his highly secretive, fiercely guarded life, there were only a handful of incredibly rare occasions where his father was ever mentioned. His past was a locked vault buried under billions of dollars and elite legal walls.

Slowly, Adrian’s hand dropped from her chin. The anger on his face didn't erupt; instead, it drained away completely, leaving behind a terrible, bottomless look of pure, demonic malice. His scary black eyes turned completely dead, staring down at her with a chilling, predatory stillness that promised absolute ruin.

Looking into those dead, empty eyes, the stubborn defiance in Asaliya's chest instantly evaporated. For the first time since she had been captured, a real, primitive wave of fear washed over her, causing her entire body to violently shiver beneath his gaze. She realized she hadn't just crossed a line—she had just unlocked a monster.