The drive back to the city was silent, thick with unspoken fears and half-formed thoughts. Adriana kept glancing at Marco’s shoulder, where the makeshift bandage was already soaked with blood. He was paler than usual, jaw clenched against the pain, but his hands remained steady on the wheel.
She wanted to scream at him—for taking risks, for shutting her out, for bleeding in front of her like it didn’t matter. But she also knew there was no time for that. Not yet.
They reached the private parking garage beneath one of Marco’s lesser-known properties—an old high-rise he used to stash things he didn’t want the public—or his enemies—to know about.
He keyed them in through a biometric panel, then led her into a high-security elevator. Adriana stayed close, the Ledger still clutched protectiv
