The room, though small and modest, carried a weight heavier than any mansion's hall. Bianca Hart tried to calm her trembling hands as she set the last dish on the table. Her eyes kept flicking to Adrian—sharp, composed, impossibly out of place in their humble apartment.
"Please, have some food," Bianca said gently, motioning toward the table.
Adrian nodded, standing briefly before pulling out a chair with deliberate grace. "Thank you, Mrs. Bianca. It smells wonderful."
The family gathered around, though Jake kept his distance, watching Adrian like a hawk circling prey. Lila sat beside her husband, nervous energy twisting in her chest. She could barely taste the food on her plate; every move Adrian made seemed to draw her attention. The way he lifted his glass, the way his eyes scanned the room, the way he spoke—calm, direct, and firm.
Jake couldn't hold back his questions for long. As Adrian picked up his fork, Jake leaned forward, his elbows planted firmly on the table.
"So, Adrian Wolfe Blackwood…" he began, stressing each syllable of the name as though testing its weight. "Why my sister? Of all the women in the world—rich women, powerful women—you chose her? Why?"
"Jake!" Bianca scolded softly, shooting her son a warning glance.
But Adrian didn't look offended. He set his fork down carefully, folding his hands together on the table. His gaze locked onto Jake's, steady and unwavering.
"Because she is nothing like the women I've known," he said smoothly. "Your sister is hardworking, selfless, and real. Qualities far more valuable than wealth or status."
Lila's cheeks flushed. She lowered her gaze, biting her lip, unsure how to process his words. She knew, deep inside, this wasn't about love—it was about appearances, about Adrian silencing his parents' doubts—but hearing him speak like that made her chest ache with something she couldn't name.
Jake narrowed his eyes. "You say that now, but words are cheap. How do we know you won't hurt her? Or worse—abandon her once you've had your fill?"
"Jake!" Lila snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.
But Adrian only leaned back slightly, his expression calm, though his presence seemed to fill the entire room. "I don't make promises I cannot keep. Lila is my wife. That is not a temporary title—it is permanent. You will see with time."
The quiet authority in his voice left no room for argument. Jake clenched his fists under the table, but he couldn't find a retort. His protective instincts still screamed, but something about Adrian's composure made him falter.
Bianca, on the other hand, felt tears prick her eyes. For years she had worried about Lila carrying the weight of their family alone. Hearing Adrian speak with such certainty eased a sliver of that worry.
They ate in silence for a few moments after that, the clinking of cutlery the only sound in the room. Lila's heart pounded the whole time, her nerves fraying with every second that passed.
Finally, when the meal was done, Bianca cleared her throat. "Adrian, I don't have much to give in return for all you've done. But I hope you know this house, however small, will always welcome you."
Adrian inclined his head. "Thank you, Mrs. Bianca. That means more than you know."
Jake muttered something under his breath, but when Lila shot him a look, he quickly busied himself with his plate.
After the meal, Adrian stood, adjusting his suit jacket with practiced ease. His presence seemed to command the space once more. "I would like to take Lila with me now. She should begin settling into her new home."
The words hit Lila's stomach like a stone. Her new home. The reality of it pressed down on her all at once. She looked at her mother, who gave her a faint, reassuring smile despite the sadness in her eyes.
"Go on, my dear," Bianca said softly. "A wife belongs with her husband now."
Jake stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Wait—so you're just taking her? Like that?"
"Jake," Bianca warned, her voice firm.
Lila stood, her hands trembling as she smoothed her dress. She crossed the room and hugged her brother tightly. "I'll still be here, Jake. This doesn't change that."
But Jake's arms clung to her fiercely. "You better call me every day, sis. If he does anything—anything—you tell me."
She nodded, smiling through her tears. Then she turned to her mother, hugging her as well. "Take care of Dad for me. I'll visit as much as I can."
Bianca's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she kissed her daughter's forehead. "Be strong, Lila. And remember—no matter where you live, you'll always be my little girl."
Her throat tight with emotion, Lila finally turned toward Adrian. He held the door open, waiting patiently, his face unreadable. Nathan stood just behind him, ever present, ever silent.
The sleek black car outside glistened under the afternoon sun. As she stepped inside, the leather interior swallowed her, luxurious and foreign. Adrian slid in beside her, his presence filling the space even more than the car itself.
The door shut, sealing her old life behind her. As the engine purred to life and the car pulled away from the curb, Lila glanced out the window, watching her mother and Jake grow smaller and smaller in the distance.
Her heart clenched, torn between duty to her family and the unknown future that awaited her. She was leaving behind everything she had ever known—her childhood home, her routine, her safety net—for a world she couldn't even imagine.
Beside her, Adrian sat composed, his gaze fixed ahead as if he had already mapped out every step of what was to come.
"You'll be safe now," he said suddenly, his voice low but certain.
Lila swallowed hard, twisting her hands in her lap. She wanted to ask him what safe truly meant. Safe from debt collectors? Safe from hardship? Or safe from loneliness? But the words stuck in her throat.
Instead, she nodded silently, the weight of his words settling over her like an invisible chain.
As the car turned onto the main road and the city stretched out before them, she realized there was no turning back.
She was now Adrian Wolfe Blackwood's wife.
And her new life was only just beginning.
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