TRAPPED WITH THE ENEMY

Adrian's POV

How do normal people deal with news of their ex wife's pregnancy? And how the hell am I supposed to react to the cryptic message that says that one ex of mine is about to be killed?

“Bastards! Fucking bastards!” I cussed out, slamming my fists on the steering wheel continuously.

I could hardly control my rage as I drove at 130km/h, weaving through the traffic like a mad man.

I had to get to her before it was too late.

Of all places she had to choose, she chose the Redgrave district. New York's very own hell hole. It was a well known destination for crimes and criminals.

I parked my car a block away, jumping out without bothering to turn off the engine. The streets were eerily quiet, the kind of silence that screamed danger. My fingers itched to pull out my gun, but I needed to be quick. Quiet.

Her apartment was on the second floor of a dilapidated building. Pathetic security. One jump, one grip, and I was already scaling the fire escape. The window was locked, but a well-placed kick shattered it instantly.

Glass shards rained onto the floor as I stepped inside.

And there she was.

Panting. Staring at me with wide, terrified eyes and her attacker nearby.

“Adrian?!” she gasped, backing up.

I ignored her, my gaze sweeping the room. The scent of gunpowder lingered in the air. Someone had just been here.

I stormed past her to the broken door leading to the hallway. Empty. Whoever it was had already taken off.

My jaw clenched as I turned back to her, my anger reaching a boiling point.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Lila?” My voice was ice. “Of all places, you came to Redgrave? Redgrave?! You might as well have sent out invitations to every hitman in the city!”

She scowled, dropping the knife onto the table. “I didn’t exactly have a choice, Adrian.”

“Bullshit.” I stalked toward her, eyes burning with fury. “Didn’t I give you half my goddamn wealth? It could buy you a penthouse in any part of the city! But no, you choose to serve your fucking neck on a golden plate?”

She flinched but lifted her chin defiantly. “You think money solves everything?”

“Yes! In this case, it does!” I snapped. “You could have lived anywhere—hell, even in another country—but instead, you end up here, playing a game of survival with… murderers?”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “I didn’t need your charity, Adrian.”

“Charity?!” A humorless laugh burst from my lips. I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. “Pack your things.”

“What?”

“You’re coming with me. I am not leaving you here.”

She glared at me. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

I took a step closer, my voice lowering. “This isn’t a debate, sweetheart. Someone just tried to kill you. The next time, they won’t just run away.”

Her lips parted as if to argue, but no words came out.

She didn’t resist when I grabbed her wrist, but she didn’t make it easy either. She walked stiffly beside me and I could feel her eyes burning into the side of my face as we made our way down the fire escape. I deserved every bit of hate she had for me.

We reached my car, and I yanked open the passenger door. “Get in.”

She folded her arms. “I can take care of myself.”

I inhaled deeply. She was trying my patience. “Really? Because from where I was standing, you looked about two seconds away from getting yourself killed.”

Her jaw clenched, but she slid into the seat. I shut the door, exhaling sharply before moving around to the driver’s side.

The drive was tense, silence thick between us. I could still hear my heart pounding, could still feel the adrenaline in my veins. I had almost been too late. The thought made my grip tighten on the wheel.

Finally, we pulled up to the underground parking of my penthouse. I killed the engine and turned to her. “Let’s go.”

She hesitated, eyes scanning the sleek interior of the garage. “Nice place,” she muttered. “Bought it for your latest slut?”

A smirk tugged at my lips before I could stop it. So, she was jealous.

But the brief flicker of amusement died just as quickly.

It was good that she thought the worst of me.

A cold, bitter feeling settled in my chest, but I shoved it down. “Jealous, sweetheart?” I taunted, stepping out of the car.

She scoffed but didn’t answer.

I led her to the private elevator, scanning my key card. The ride up was silent except for the faint hum of the machinery.

When the doors opened, she let out a low whistle. “Fancy.”

The penthouse was modern, all glass and steel with a panoramic view of the city. The furniture was sleek and expensive, but it didn’t feel lived in. Because it wasn’t.

“This isn’t for anyone,” I muttered. “Just another place to sleep.”

I turned to face her, crossing my arms. "You need to eat," I said flatly.

She sat stiffly on the couch, her arms wrapped around herself. "I'm not hungry."

I exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of my nose. Of course, she was being stubborn. "Lila, you're pregnant. You can’t just—"

"I said I'm not hungry, Adrian,” she cut me off, before her eyes widened slowly “…wait how did you know—" her voice sounded tight.

I stared at her for a moment, my jaw tightening. Then I took a step closer, my tone dropping into something deadlier. “So, you want to starve our child?”

Her whole body stiffened.

She looked away, her fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt. I could see the turmoil in her eyes.

"You don't have to care about me, hate me all you want." I continued, my voice rougher now. "But that baby? They didn't ask for any of this. So, tell me, Lila, are you really going to punish them just because you hate me?"

"I don’t hate you," she muttered, barely audible.

"Then eat," I said simply. "Because whether you like it or not, that kid is mine too. And I won’t let you risk my baby's life just to spite me."

She swallowed hard, looking down at her lap. After a long pause, she finally exhaled. "Fine," she whispered. "I'll eat."

I nodded once, heading toward the kitchen. "Good choice, sweetheart.”