Months had passed since that day in the training room—the day Adrian had stepped in, testing her limits and pushing her further than she had ever gone alone.
Time had changed her. Her punches were faster, her kicks sharper, her reflexes honed to a razor's edge. Every day, she had pushed herself, sometimes to exhaustion, sometimes to frustration—but she had grown stronger. Stronger than she had thought possible.
Adrian had become more than a sparring partner. He taught her control, strategy, the subtle balance between patience and aggression. He challenged her, taunted her, guided her—and sometimes, she thought, he believed in her more than she believed in herself.
And now, as she stepped out of the training room that afternoon, the warmth of the sun felt like proof of how far she had come.
"Hey."
Bloom turned, spotting Adrian jogging to catch up, a casual smile on his face. He looked different somehow—less like the strict trainer she had sparred with, more like someone who genuinely wanted to see her.
"You're out early," she said, trying to sound nonchalant, though her chest still thumped from both training and seeing him.
"I thought you might need a break," he said, tilting his head. "Come on. Let's go for a walk."
Bloom raised an eyebrow but didn't protest. Somehow, the idea of walking with Adrian, letting the city air fill her lungs, seemed… right.
They moved side by side, the hum of the city around them. Adrian walked at an easy pace, hands in his pockets, occasionally glancing at her with that unreadable expression she had grown familiar with. Bloom focused on keeping her breathing steady, letting the rhythm of their steps match the calm she hadn't felt in months.
"You've changed," Adrian said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. "Not just stronger… you're sharper. Faster. More… confident."
Bloom felt a small smile tug at her lips. "It's taken months of hard work. You made sure of that."
He shrugged lightly, a half-smile on his face. "I just guided you. The real work? That was all you."
For a moment, they walked in silence again, the city noise fading around the quiet bubble of their conversation.
But then, up ahead, a sudden swell of noise cut through the air.
A crowd had gathered in front of an upscale mall, voices buzzing with excitement, phones flashing like stars. Bloom and Adrian exchanged a look before weaving through the throng, curiosity pulling them closer.
"What's going on?" Adrian asked a man on the edge of the crowd.
The man's eyes widened as if he couldn't believe anyone didn't already know. "Don't you see? Levi Veynar—he's here. The leader of the Veynar syndicate. Richest mafia group in the city." His voice dropped slightly, awe mixing with fear. "Only twenty-three, and already untouchable. He came to buy designer clothes… for his girlfriend."
Bloom's breath caught, her vision narrowing as she followed the direction of pointing fingers and flashing cameras.
And then she saw him.
Levi Veynar.
He stepped out of a sleek black car, the kind of luxury vehicle that screamed wealth and power. Tall, broad-shouldered, his presence alone commanded attention. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he walked with the ease of someone who believed the world belonged to him.
His arm rested lazily around a laughing brunette's shoulders as they headed into the mall. Security flanked them, parting the crowd with cold efficiency.
Bloom's entire body trembled. Her fingers curled into fists, her jaw clenched so hard it hurt. This was him—the man who had ripped her world apart. The man who had stolen her parents' lives and left her drowning in grief.
She thought she would be ready for this moment. But standing here now, her chest burned, her legs felt weak, and rage flooded her veins like fire.
A firm hand closed around her wrist. Adrian.
"Bloom," he said under his breath, his voice sharp but steady. "Not here. Don't lose yourself now."
She tore her eyes away from Levi only when Adrian tugged her back, pulling her out of the crowd as the noise and flashing cameras faded behind them.
But the image of Levi—alive, untouchable, and laughing—seared itself into her memory.
She had seen him now.
And she swore it wouldn't be the last time.