Leila slumped onto the mat, fatigued and breathless, her muscles aching and a slow heat deep in her limbs. The private gym in the penthouse was poorly lit, and the cool air didn't help to relieve the heat radiating through her body. Adrian was standing above her, not the least bit winded. He held out a hand, but she ignored it, rolling onto her side with a groan. Her voice was husky from fatigue as she whispered, "I hate you." His chest rumbled with a low laugh. "No, you don't." Leila shot him a glare, but even she wasn't sure whether she meant it.Hours passed while Adrian continued to push her over her supposed limits and wouldn't let her give up. He forced her to get back up each time she hit the mat. He made her try again, and each time, she was unable to block one of his attacks. And she was exhausted now. "You're not bad." Adrian mused, crossing his arms as he studied her. "For a beginner." Leila wiped the sweat from her forehead as she scoffed. "You mean for someone who
The next morning, Leila woke to the scent of coffee and a distinctly masculine scent lingering in the air. For a brief moment, she lost track of her surroundings, her body sinking into the plush bed, her muscles sore from the previous night's training.Then reality slammed into her like a freight train.She was still here.Still trapped in Adrian Blackwell’s world.Still playing the role of his fiancée while enemies lurked in the shadows.Leila sighed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. What the hell was happening to her?She had dedicated her entire life to fighting for control and respect. Now, she found herself at the mercy of a man who represented everything she had sworn to despise.And yet...She didn't feel powerless anymore.Throwing off the covers, she dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the kitchen.Adrian was already there, dressed in another one of his perfectly tailored suits, his presence commanding even in the stillness of the morning He looked up as she ente
The city buzzed with colorful lights and the noise of late-night traffic, but inside Adrian's penthouse, the atmosphere was heavy with tension.Leila was seated on the couch, fixated on the envelope Adrian had received from Victor Langston. The weight of it felt suffocating as if an invisible force were compressing her chest.Having grown up amidst manipulative games and veiled threats, Leila sensed that this situation was different. Adrian Blackwell was a man who maintained control so tightly that the prospect of anyone unraveling him seemed impossible.But now, facing him, she noticed something flickering in his eyes.Doubt.It was fleeting, masked beneath the cold steel of his expression, but it was there.And that made a difference.“Are you actually thinking about it?” she asked, her voice softer than she had meant.Adrian leaned back, observing her with an inscrutable gaze “I don't make choices based on emotions, Leila.”She scoffed, tightening her grip on the envelope. “Then w
The sharp smell of gunpowder lingered in the air as bullets whizzed past them, striking metal shipping containers.Leila pressed herself against Adrian, her heart racing. The continuous gunfire echoed off the steel structures, making it difficult to identify where the attackers were hiding.Adrian tightened his hold on her while scanning their surroundings, his mind racing. “We need to move. Now.”Leila barely had time to nod before he pulled her to the side, keeping their bodies low as they navigated through the maze of containers.“Who the hell are these people?!” she gasped.Adrian’s expression was serious. “Victor’s men. No question about it.”Her blood ran cold. Mercer had been killed without hesitation, and now they could be next.Adrian guided her toward a stack of crates towering against the docks. He motioned for her to stay low as he peeked around the corner. The Moonlight cast long shadows, revealing at least three figures in dark clothing moving toward Mercer’s body.“Damn
As Adrian helped Leila into his penthouse, her shoulder throbbed with pain, his grip firm yet careful. The stylish interior decor—black marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, and stunning views—should have wowed her, but her focus was solely on the persistent ache radiating through her body.She barely had time to take in the surroundings before Adrian guided her toward a soft leather couch in the spacious living room.“Sit,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.Leila settled onto the couch, her muscles stiff and sore. The adrenaline from the earlier chaos had long worn off, leaving her with exhaustion and a stinging pain from where the bullet had grazed her.Adrian stepped away to another room, the sound of his footsteps echoing against the marble floor. The silence that followed was unsettling. For someone known for his cold efficiency, he was moving with an urgency that almost felt… personal.Her mind raced.Everything happened so fast. Mercer was dead, and there ha
Leila woke up to the rich scent of coffee.For a brief moment, she lost track of her surroundings. The bed was luxuriously soft, softer than anything she was used to and the cool sheets felt pleasant against her skin. A thin beam of morning light slipped through the blackout curtains, casting shadows on the modern sleek furniture.Then, the reality set in.She was in Adrian Blackwell’s penthouse.Memories from the previous night flooded her mind—the gunfire, the pain in her arm, and how Adrian had protected her with his body.And the way he had gently touched her afterward, his hands careful, his voice unusually soft.Leila sat up, rubbing a hand over her face.She needed to leave. She couldn't remain in his world any longer than necessary. The closer she got to Adrian, the more everything became complicated, and the more blurred the lines became.But as she moved, a sharp pain shot through her shoulder.Right. The wound.She glanced down, pulling back the sleeve of the T-shirt Adrian
Leila had spent her life learning how to survive.She had never been one to succumb to pressure or wait for a man to rescue her. But as she stood in the world of Adrian Blackwell, with his enemies now targeting her, she understood that survival wasn’t solely about fighting.Sometimes, it was about knowing when to place trust.That realization frightened her more than anything else.Adrian’s name had always been spoken in shadows and whispers —a man too strong, too merciless, too unreachable. Yet, as she stood close to him, Leila could perceive the vulnerabilities beneath his tough exterior, the strain in his posture, the storm brewing in his dark gaze.“Dante Russo,” she repeated, bitterly tasting the name. “He came after me to get to you.”Adrian’s jaw clenched. “Yes.”Just one word. Flat. Controlled.Too controlled.Leila’s heart raced. “Why?”Adrian took a breath, ran a hand through his hair, and turned away to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. The city sprawled
Leila had been in several dangerous situations before.She had faced ruthless businessmen, dealt with betrayal, and escaped confrontations that could have shattered her. However, standing beside Adrian Blackwell, posing to be his lover in front of the world, felt like the most dangerous thing she had ever done.Because this was no longer just about survival.It was about him.And the way he made her feel as if the ground beneath her was constantly shifting.The First Public AppearanceThe flashing lights were blinding.Cameras clicked rapidly; reporters shouted questions and the energy in the atmosphere was charged as Adrian stepped out of the sleek black car and offered his hand to Leila.She hesitated.Not from a lack of readiness, but because the moment she touched him, she knew that would change everything.His dark eyes met hers—calm but commanding. He didn’t speak or rush her, but there was a silent challenge in his look.Leila inhaled sharply and placed her hand in his.A mista
Adrian focused on a large map spread across his desk, revealing the city laid out in a precise grid. Red annotations marked Dante's operations, safe houses, and busy areas. He studied it in silence, his mind working through every possible scenario.Leila leaned against the desk with her arms crossed. “So, what’s the move?”Connor, lounging on the couch with a drink, grinned. “Yeah, you said we were done playing defense. It’s time to counterattack.”Adrian’s eyes remained locked on the map. “We need to hit him hard and fast.”Leila frowned. “How do we do that?”Adrian pointed to an area near the docks. “Dante’s primary shipment hub is here. If we cut him off, we disrupt his supply chain. No supplies mean no revenue and, ultimately, no power.”Connor whistled. “That’s bold. Are you just going to stroll in there and burn it to the ground?”Adrian smirked. “Something like that.”Leila looked wary. “Dante can’t be underestimated. That location is probably well-secured.”Adrian agreed. “Tha
Adrian sat in his dimly lit penthouse office, fingers interlaced as he gazed at the city skyline. The incident at the warehouse had changed everything. Malcolm had deceived him. Dante had been on standby. And his father? Still out of reach.From the beginning, it had been a trap.A silent war had begun, and Adrian understood one critical fact—he couldn’t afford to be reckless.Leila faced him, her expression a blend of frustration and worry. “You’re awfully quiet,” she finally remarked.Adrian took his time to respond, absorbed in thought and strategizing. Each decision now carried significant weight.Connor leaned against the bar, sipping from a tumbler of whiskey. “I recognize that look,” he said. “That’s your ‘I’m-about-to-wreak-havoc’ look.”Leila’s lips thinned. “Is that a bad thing?”Connor laughed lightly. “Depends. Do you prefer fireworks or a slow, controlled explosion?”Adrian exhaled as he rose and approached the window, his reflection faint in the glass. “Dante expected me
As Adrian and Leila exited the club and stepped into the night, he clutched the folded paper tightly. The city buzzed around them, but an uneasy stillness hung in the air as if the universe sensed they were on the brink of something dangerous.Connor leaned against the sleek black car, arms crossed, eyeing them with a keen interest as his gaze lingered on Adrian's tense fists. “I take it the meeting went well?” he drawled.Leila gave a sharp exhale. “What do you mean by ‘well’?”Connor smirked. “You’re both alive, so I’d say that’s a win.”Ignoring him, Adrian unfolded the paper, his eyes tracing the address written in Malcolm’s precise handwriting.A warehouse. South of the city.Leila moved closer to glance at the address. “Are we heading there now?”Adrian hesitated. He wanted to go—every instinct screamed at him to move before Dante caught wind of their information.But Malcolm’s warning echoed in his mind.“You won’t just be at war with Dante Russo. You’ll be against those who c
The meeting was scheduled for midnight at one of Malcolm Gray’s private clubs downtown.Adrian had his reservations about Malcolm, but trust wasn’t what mattered.Leverage was.And right now, Malcolm held the upper hand.Leila perched on the edge of the couch in Adrian’s penthouse, observing him as he adjusted his suit jacket cuffs. His movements were controlled, precise, and careful, yet she could notice the tension in his jaw and how his fingers instinctively curled when he thought no one was watching.He was walking into this meeting fully aware that Malcolm would attempt to manipulate him in this meeting.Still, he was going.Because there was no other option.“You should stay here,” Adrian said without glancing at her.Leila rolled her eyes. “Not a chance.”He finally met her gaze. “Leila—”She crossed her arms defiantly. “I’m not going to just sit here waiting for your return. You can’t shut me out of this.”Adrian exhaled slowly.Connor, lounging against the wall, smirked. “She
The heaviness of Adrian's words hung between them, like a silent oath.I will end this.Leila was not oblivious; she understood what that meant.But the harshness in his voice was more than a threat of violence; it served as a caution.This wasn't a matter of justice.It was a fight for survival.Still, as Adrian gazed at his father's photograph, there was something more beneath his cold calculation. Something deeper.Something he wasn't saying.Leila's fingers curled into fists.Dante wasn’t merely making a move—he was dragging Adrian’s past into the present, and that changed everything.She took a slow breath. “What’s the plan?”Adrian’s jaw set. “You don’t need to worry about that.”She scoffed. “I think we’re past the point where you get to decide what I need to worry about.”Adrian’s eyes flickered to hers, sharp as a blade.For a moment, neither of them spoke.Then—A knock at the office door.Adrian let out a breath, his expression toughening again. “Come in.”The door opened,
As soon as Leila pulled away from Adrian, the atmosphere between them thickened. She still felt the lingering impression of his touch and the weight of his unsaid thoughts against her skin, but she forced herself to move away. Adrian had once again shut her out. Perhaps she should have expected it. But it didn't stop the frustration from burning inside her.She entered her room and closed the door, though sleep eluded her. Lying in bed, she stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.Dante Russo. Adrian’s father. Malcolm Gray.Fragments of a larger puzzle she struggled to piece together. What was evident was that Adrian was at its core—and now she was entangled, too. She let out a sharp breath and turned onto her side, trying to calm her thoughts.Morning would bring answers.At least, she hoped it would.The Next MorningLeila awoke to the persistent buzzing of her phone on the nightstand. With a groan, she rubbed her
The knock on the door broke the silence like a gunshot.Leila felt her heart race as she watched Adrian momentarily freeze—just enough to tell her that he wasn't expecting a visitor.Then, his demeanor changed.He regained control, adopting that calm, ruthless facade he always wore as armorWithout a word, he strode toward the door, his shoulders tense and movements purposeful.Leila reminded herself to breathe.The person outside wasn’t just some late-night guest.She could sense it.Felt it in a way. Adrian's entire body had stiffened.A Warning Leila crept to the edge of the room, positioning herself to see the door without being easily spotted. Her instincts urged her to brace for anything.Adrian unlocked the door and pulled it open with Sharp precision.A man stood before him.Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly styled, he exuded an unmistakable authority. Unlike Adrian’s quiet menace, there was something in his piercing gaze that sent a chill d
As soon as Adrian disappeared into his office, the atmosphere in the penthouse changed. The lingering heat from their almost-kiss faded, leaving behind an oppressive silence.Leila remained in the kitchen's soft light, her heart still racing. She gripped the cool marble counter, trying to steady herself.They had crossed a boundary.Now, she was torn between wanting to forget it or to explore it further.With a sharp exhale, she forced herself into motion, grabbed the forgotten glass of water, took a sip, and then turned towards her room—determined to put distance between herself and the man who was gradually unraveling her.But then—A voice.Muffled yet sharp.Coming from behind Adrian's office door.Leila froze.Eavesdropping wasn't her nature, yet something about the fury in Adrian’s voice made her pause.She took a step closer.Then another.Each step drew her nearer to the cracked door, just enough for his words to slip through.“You don’t dictate how I deal with this,” Adrian g
Leila stood frozen in the elevator, lingering long after Adrian had walked away. The tension still clung to her, heavy and stifling, tightening around her as if in a vise. She needed to move, to shake off whatever this feeling was. Yet her body refused to respond. Because deep down, she was falling apart. Each moment spent with Adrian Blackwell blurred the lines between what was real and what was an act.His words echoed in her thoughts: "I don’t like feeling out of control, Leila." And neither did she.Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to step forward. The soft chime of the elevator doors closing behind her snapped her back to reality, but it did nothing to calm her racing heart.The penthouse was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the New York skyline. The city sparkled beyond the glass, stretching endlessly into the night.She half-expected Adrian to be there waiting. Instead, the space was empty. And somehow, tha