The quietness of the penthouse was oppressive.
It was that kind of quiet which pressed against your covers and made you feel your pulse. Though the shimmering skyline of the city twinkled outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, it felt far away, almost like another world.
Elena stood at the center of Adrian's study and, with it all still burning a hole in her hand, rounds echoing from the small black flash drive. It had found her by accident or for a purpose, perhaps. She had come in search of the truth, in search of proof of who he really was, and here it sat in the palm of her hand like an armed weapon.
She can hear him in the next room, and his voice again dips and smoothes out at intervals, peering under the noise of Italian clipped, commanding tones; he must indeed be calling someone to bleed.
Her mind spun. What if she plugged it in into her laptop? What would she see? Names? Bank accounts? The skeletons he kept buried under layers of power and blood?
And if she did... what would it make her?
She had smuggled the tiny black drive into the pocket of her dress when the door opened behind her.
"What are you doing in here, piccola?" Adrian's voice was low, unreadable.
"Just... looking for a book," Elena turned and schooled her features into something casual.
He walked in, and softly shut the door.
His gaze drifted over the desk, slightly shifted papers, that faint movement in her chest that would betray the quickened beating of her heart. His jaw ticked up-incredibly subtle, but profoundly telling.
"Books are in the library," he said.
His proximity, each overtly calculated step, predator circling its prey.
Her pulse pounded, but she stood there. "Maybe I like the ones in here better."
The corner of his mouth curved-not a smile, but something darker. "You're lying."
One wrong move and that was it: it would snap.
"Maybe," she quietly spoke.
He was close enough now that she could see the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, the way his eyes seemed darker in the low light. "You're hiding something."
In fact, they would have come across as an accusation, but they came across as a promise.
Adrian extended his hands to her, not the rough kind, but with that kind of ownership that made her spine stiffen. He brushed his fingers into her chin, tilting her head upward until her eyes met his.
"If you ever keep something from me, Elena..." His thumb brushed over her bottom lip. "I'll find out. And when I do..." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "...you won't like how I take it back."
Her hand twitched at her side, feeling the hard edge of the flash drive in her pocket.
For a moment, she almost handed it to him-almost gave up the truth for the illusion of safety.
But then she thought of the people in those files, the whispered allegations she'd heard, the shadows that clung to his name.
She smiled instead, that slow, careful curve of her lips. "What makes you so sure I'd give it back at all?"
Something flared in his eyes-a danger to be sure, but something else too. Admiration.
"You are playing a very dangerous game, Elena."
"Maybe I like dangerous."
His hand slid to the back of her neck, drawing her closer so that her breath hitched. "Careful," he murmured. "Danger loves to bite."
When he got a buzzing call on his phone, it shattered the entire moment when their mouths were a hair-breadth apart.
He was still facing her when he picked it. ''Valenti.''
Fast became the voice at the other end, really urgent. Adrian-strange enough for Elena to catch that. Whatever it was hearing from that end, it wasn't good.
"Keep him there," he said finally, and abruptly cut the line.
He straightened, his hand dropping away from hers. "We are going for a drive."
"Where to?"
"To meet someone who's been making problems." His gaze locked on hers. "And you're going to see what happens to people who keep secrets from me."
Stepping into the waiting black Maserati, the night air outside was cold, cutting against her skin. The city lights blurred past as they drove, with neither speaking.
Then they turned into the abandoned shipping yard. Darkly dressed men stood waiting there, hunched up, and watching them with hard, sharp postures full of tension.
Straight in the centre of the circle kneels a man, hands tied, blood dripping, where a cut is just above brow:
"Who is he?" Elena whispered.
"A traitor," Adrian said simply.
She watched Adrian stepping forward, his guys parting for him. The prioner snapped his head up, and even through the blood Elena could see fear engraved in his eyes.
"You think you could sell me to the Rossi family?" Adrian's voice is calm and nearly conversational. "You think I wouldn't know?"
The man started to say something in Italian, pleading.
Adrian's gaze didn't waver. "Loyalty, once broken, can never be repaired."
Then without lifting his voice and without taking his gaze from the man, Adrian nodded.
Two of his men grabbed the prisoner and led him away into the shadows. A sound came muffled-sharp, final.
Adrian turned toward Elena. "This is my world. No second chances."
She met his gaze, heart hammering, and the flash drive in her pocket suddenly felt a hundred times heavier.
Because now, she wasn't just keeping a secret.
She was keeping the kind of secret that could get her killed.
Then, they drove back in silence, but it was vibrating space between them. Every look toward her seemed like a question, and each touch of his hand on the gearshift seemed to bring a warning.
As soon as they arrived at the penthouse, Adrian stopped her before she could step out. Into his grip went her wrist- firm but not painful.
"Whatever game you're playing, Elena..." His eyes burned into hers. "...make sure you're ready to lose."
She didn't answer.
For the first time, she wasn't sure who was going to lose more, him or her.