Adrian’s POV
The crash reverberated through the mansion like a gunshot.
My body went taut, every instinct honed by years of survival snapping to life. Boots on hardwood, voices raised, the unmistakable splinter of glass. My estate was a fortress; anyone inside without my invitation had already signed their death warrant.
I didn’t panic. I never did. I simply moved.
The pistol was already in my hand by the time I stepped into the hall, the safety click a sound my men recognized instantly. They converged, sharp-eyed, armed, waiting on my command.
“Garage entrance,” my lieutenant muttered, his voice tight. “Gate breached. Motion sensors tripped. We’re sweeping.”
The metallic tang hit me then—blood. Sharp and familiar, drifting through the vents. One of mine was already down.
We reached
