KIRA’S POV
Adrian was slumped back in a chair, his chest red with blood.
A table sat in front of him, completely stained red, with bandages soaked through and scattered across the surface. Books, papers, pens, and files lay in a mess on the floor, like he had shoved everything away in anger. An iron first-aid box sat open on the table, but all the instruments inside were soiled.
My feet felt frozen to the ground as I stared at his bare chest. His lower abdomen was bruised, an ugly shade of pink like he had been punched or hit—but his chest… His chest was still bleeding, blood covering almost every inch of his tattooed body.
The room was a vast, sophisticated study, much like the one he had in the mansion. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes a
