CHAPTER 11 — The Man With The Silver Watch
737 Words
Mirabel drifted in and out of consciousness, the vague scent of antiseptic and clean fabric pulling her out of darkness. Her eyelashes fluttered, heavy like they were carrying sand. A soft beeping sound echoed around her, steady, calm, nothing like the chaos she remembered last.
The slap.
The betrayal.
The poison burning her throat.
Esther’s smirk.
Her heart slammed painfully as the memories rushed back.
“Easy… you’re safe now.”
The voice was deep. Calm. Warm.
Mirabel’s eyes finally focused—and her breath caught.
A man sat beside her bed, his suit dark and crisp, his sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. He looked like he had been carved from stillness and authority itself. His jaw was sharp, his brows deep and intense, but it was his eyes—dark, steady, unreadable—that sent a strange shiver through her.
He was… breathtaking.
And completely unfamiliar.
“Who… who are you?” Mirabel whispered, her throat dry.
The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached forward and adjusted the pillow behind her with surprising gentleness. When his hand brushed her cheek, sparks shot down her spine.
“My name is Adrian,” he finally said. “Adrian Volkov.”
Her eyes widened. The name sounded powerful. Dangerous. Like it came with its own shadow.
“You’ve been unconscious for almost two days,” he continued, voice low. “You were found in the forest, barely breathing.”
Mirabel’s mouth fell open. “Forest? I–I don’t remember…”
Adrian nodded slowly. “Your body was shutting down. Whoever wanted you gone meant it.”
Fear rippled through her chest. Esther. Kelvin. Their lies. Their hatred.
“Why… why would you help me?” she whispered.
Adrian leaned back slightly, watching her with an unreadable expression. Then he lifted his wrist, revealing a silver watch that glinted under the light.
“Because,” he said quietly, “you called for help.”
Mirabel frowned. “I… called you?”
He nodded once.
“I was passing through. I heard you. Your heartbeat was weak, but your will to survive…” His lips curved the faintest bit. “It was loud.”
Mirabel blinked. “That’s impossible.”
Adrian’s eyes darkened, a strange intensity swirling within them.
“Nothing is impossible, Mirabel.”
Her pulse stumbled.
“How… how do you know my name?”
He stood, slowly, powerfully, like a man who owned every step he took.
“I know many things,” he said, voice deepening. “Including the fact that the people who hurt you are not done yet.”
Mirabel swallowed hard, dread sinking into her stomach.
Adrian moved closer, stopping right at the edge of her bed. He leaned down slightly, his breath brushing her cheek, warm and electrifying.
“And I am not letting anyone touch what’s now under my protection.”
Her breath hitched. “Why? Why would you protect me?”
He held her gaze for a long, tension-filled moment.
Then he whispered, voice low and dangerous:
“Because the moment I found you… something in me woke up.”
Mirabel’s heart thudded violently.
“Something that has been silent for years.”
His fingers brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. Slow. Deliberate. Claiming.
“You don’t know it yet,” Adrian murmured, “but you and I… we are connected.”
Connected?
Protecting her?
Listening to her heartbeat?
Mirabel’s skin prickled with fear—and something else. Something warm. Something forbidden.
A knock on the door made Adrian step back. A nurse entered, but paused nervously at the sight of him, almost bowing her head without meaning to.
“Um… sir, visiting hours are—”
“I’m not leaving,” Adrian said simply.
The nurse nodded quickly and fled.
Mirabel stared at him, her chest tightening.
“Who are you, really?” she whispered.
Adrian turned his head slowly, eyes locking onto hers with a heat that made her shiver.
“A man who doesn’t lose what he’s chosen.”
His words hung in the air, thick and unsettling.
Mirabel felt it again—something pulling her toward him, something she didn’t understand.
“Rest,” he said softly. “I’ll be right here.”
Mirabel’s eyes fluttered, exhaustion pulling her under again.
And the last thing she saw was Adrian Volkov watching her…
Like she was something he had already claimed.
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- Writer
