Chapter 3 - A Storm of Blood and Steel
The next few weeks were a blur of high-end medical tests and suffocating security.
I wasn't allowed to leave the penthouse,
not even to walk on the balcony.
Adrian was rarely home,
his nights spent in dark warehouses and silent boardrooms,
preparing for the conflict he knew was coming.
When he did return,
he smelled of expensive tobacco and a metallic scent I didn't want to name.
He would come to my room,
watch me sleep for a few minutes,
and then disappear back into the shadows.
I felt like a trophy,
a prize being guarded in a high tower while the world burned below.
"You’re planning something,"
I said one evening,
as he sat at the end of my bed,
cleaning a small,
silver pistol.
He didn't look up.
"I’m cleaning the streets,
Elena."
"The Morettis have become a nuisance."
"They think because I was distracted by your disappearance,
I have become soft."
"I am going to remind them why the Whitmore name is feared."
"And what happens after?"
I asked.
"When the baby comes?"
"Will she grow up with guards at her door and a gun under her pillow?"
He finally looked at me,
his blue eyes hard as diamonds.
"She will grow up with everything she ever wants."
"But she will never be safe,
Elena."
"That is the reality of our life."
"I can give her the world,
but I cannot give her a normal one."
I turned away,
the weight of his words pressing down on me.
I had tried to save her from this,
but the more I fought,
the deeper we sank into his darkness.
Later that night,
the silence of the penthouse was shattered by the sound of glass breaking.
It was followed by the staccato rhythm of gunfire from the hallway.
I scrambled out of bed,
my heart racing,
my hand instinctively going to my stomach.
"Adrian!"
I screamed.
The door to the bedroom burst open.
It wasn't Adrian.
It was a man in a dark suit,
a mask covering his face,
a silenced weapon in his hand.
I backed away,
tripping over a chair,
falling hard onto the carpet.
The man stepped closer,
his eyes cold behind the fabric.
"The Moretti family sends their regards,"
he whispered.
He raised the gun,
pointing it directly at me.
I closed my eyes,
waiting for the end,
waiting for the silence to take us both.
Then,
a roar echoed through the room.
A single shot rang out,
much louder than the assassin’s weapon.
I opened my eyes to see the man on the floor,
blood pooling on the white rug.
Adrian was standing in the doorway,
his charcoal suit jacket gone,
his shirt sleeves rolled up,
his face spattered with red.
He looked like a demon,
his eyes glowing with a terrifying light.
He dropped the gun and ran to me,
sliding across the floor on his knees.
"Elena!"
he cried out,
his hands shaking as he touched my face.
"Are you hurt?"
"Did he touch you?"
I couldn't speak,
I could only shake my head,
my breath coming in ragged gasps.
He pulled me into his chest,
holding me so tight I could hear the thudding of his heart.
"I’m sorry,"
he whispered into my hair.
"I’m so sorry."
"I thought I had time."
Outside,
the sounds of the battle continued,
but inside the room,
everything was still.
I realized then that Adrian wasn't just my husband,
or a billionaire,
or a mob boss.
He was a man who would burn the entire world to ashes just to keep me breathing.
May you like
And for the first time,
I wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
