Adrian sat in his penthouse, looking at his phone.
He shouldn't call her. That was the smart thing to do. That was the safe thing to do. If they were being watched, if someone dangerous was tracking his moves, then calling Ivy would put her in more danger.
But Adrian had never been good at being smart.
His fingers moved before his brain could stop them. He called Ivy's number.
She answered on the second ring. "Hello?"
Just hearing her voice made something inside him relax.
"Don't go to the midnight meeting," Adrian said.
"What? Why?"
Adrian stood up and walked to the window. The city spread out below him like a game board. Somewhere down there, people were trying to destroy him. And somewhere down there was a girl who'd made him feel human for the first time in years.
"Because I realized something," he said. "If my mother is as scared as she sounded, if this person is really as dangerous as she thinks, then taking you to that meeting would be the worst thing I could do. It would put you directly in the line of fire."
"But you said you needed me—"
"I do," Adrian interrupted. "But not like this. Not at a place where they might be waiting. Not at a place where they could hurt you."
There was silence on the phone. Then Ivy said, "So what do you want me to do?"
Adrian made a choice. It was a stupid choice. It was the kind of choice that a man thinking with his heart makes instead of his head. But he was tired of thinking with his head.
"Meet me at the Riverside Hotel," he said. "Room 412. Tell nobody. Come alone."
"Adrian, this is crazy—"
"I know," he said. "But so is everything else that's going. And the only time I feel like I'm not going crazy is when I'm with you. So please. Just come."
He hung up before she could say no.
Ivy arrived two hours later. Adrian opened the door and she walked in, and something about the way the light fell on her face made Adrian forget about everything else.
The embezzlement. The lie. The dangerous person hunting him. All of it disappeared.
There was just Ivy.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hi," Adrian answered.
They ordered room service coffee. They sat on the hotel bed and talked. Adrian told her more about his childhood—about eating cereal for dinner, about his mother working three jobs, about the day she met a rich man and decided she'd do anything to climb into that world.
Ivy told him about her mother's sickness. About the hospital bills that never stopped coming. About working two jobs and still not having enough. About feeling like she was failing her mother every single day.
They talked about fear. About loneliness. About the weight of carrying everything on your back.
And then they stopped talking.
Adrian reached out and touched Ivy's face. He'd touched her face once before, but this was different. This was planned. This was a man reaching for another human being and saying: Don't leave me.
She leaned into his touch. And then they were kissing.
It wasn't rough or desperate. It was gentle. Real. Like two people finally finding something they'd been searching for their whole lives.
They spent the night wrapped in each other. Not just physically, but mentally. They talked until midnight passed. They talked until 3 AM. They made love like it was the first time and the last time all at once.
And somewhere in the middle of the night, Adrian felt something inside him break open.
All his life, he'd been closed off. Protected. He'd learned early that needing people meant getting hurt. So he'd built walls. He'd built a kingdom. He'd filled his life with money and success and people who wanted things from him but never just wanted him.
But Ivy wanted him.
Not his money. Not his power. Just him. Just Adrian. Just a man with wounds and fears and a heart that didn't know how to open.
In the morning, they lay twisted together as sunlight came through the windows.
"I could get used to this," Adrian said, running his fingers through her hair.
"To what?" Ivy asked.
"To you. To this. To feeling like I'm not alone."
Ivy smiled. But there was sadness in the smile. "We can't keep doing this. We can't keep hiding. Eventually, the truth is going to come out. Whatever is happening with your mother, with Marcus, with this third person—it's all going to burst."
Adrian knew she was right. But he didn't want to think about it.
His phone buzzed.
Adrian looked at the screen and his stomach dropped.
It was a text from an unknown number: You've been busy, Mr. Kessler. Room 412 at the Riverside Hotel. Interesting pick. The woman with you is beautiful. Would be a shame if something happened to her. Stop digging into the money. Stop investigating Marcus. Stop trying to find out who I am. Or the bartender girl dies. You have one hour to decide: your company or her life. The choice is yours.
Adrian's hands went numb.
"What's wrong?" Ivy asked, seeing his face.
Adrian didn't answer. He just showed her the text.
Ivy's face went white.
"They found us," Adrian whispered. "They found us even though we were careful. Even though we were hidden."
"How?" Ivy asked. "How did they know where we were?"
Adrian's mind was racing. He'd paid cash for the room. He'd come alone. He'd told nobody where he was going.
But then he realized.
His credit card. His phone. His car. Every single expensive item he owned had trackers in it. Every single part of his life was connected to a digital system that could be hacked.
If this third person was smart enough to steal thirty million dollars without getting caught, they were smart enough to track his moves.
"We need to leave," Adrian said, jumping out of bed.
But before they could even get ready, there was a knock on the door.
Not a nice knock. An bold one. The kind of knock that said: Open this door or we're coming in.
Adrian looked at Ivy. Her eyes were full of fear.
"Stay behind me," Adrian said.
He opened the door.
Standing in the hallway were two large guys in dark suits. They weren't cops. They weren't agents. They were something worse.
They were hired muscle.
"Mr. Kessler," the first man said. "Our employer sent us to send a message. You need to cancel your midnight meeting with your mother. You need to stop researching. And you need to forget about the bartender girl. Because if you don't—"
The second man stepped forward and showed Adrian a picture.
It was a picture of Ivy's apartment building. And standing outside of it was Mrs. Chen—Ivy's mother—walking to the bus stop.
"—we're going to do something very permanent to the people you care about," the first man ended.
Adrian's blood turned to ice.
They didn't just know about Ivy.
They knew about her mother.
They knew everything.