The days blurred after that.
Each morning, I woke before the sun crested the horizon lying stiff in a bed that felt colder without Adrian in it, pretending not to check my phone for missed calls, coded messages, anything that might tell me this wasn’t a mistake. That I hadn’t miscalculated and placed both our lives in checkmate.
I kept my distance during the day, where eyes could follow. Paul’s men lingered near the staircase or by the kitchen doorway, pretending to be part of the house, but always moving just a half-second too late when I passed by.
I played my part to perfection let Adrian fade into the background in public, let him lean silently against the wall during meetings. I never sat too close, never looked too long. Just enough to keep the vultures guessing.
Paul had started
