Adrien had learned long ago that night revealed truths daylight preferred to hide.
From the windows of his private office, the city stretched beneath him, lit in gold and white, orderly and obedient. People believed cities slept. They did not. They only whispered instead of shouted. Deals were still made. Blood was still spilled. Promises were still broken.
This city belonged to him because he understood that.
Tonight, however, his attention was not on the streets below.
It was on the screen in front of him.
Selene sat on the edge of her bed, shoulders slumped, her gaze unfocused. The dress she had worn to dinner lay discarded across a chair. Her hair had come loose, strands falling around her face in soft disarray. She looked smaller than she had hours ago.
Vulnerable.
Adrien's jaw tightened.
He had not intended for tonight to shake her this deeply. Fear, yes. Awareness, absolutely. But not this quiet collapse that spoke of exhaustion rather than defiance.
He should not care.
That thought surfaced again, unwelcome and sharp.
Caring was a weakness. He had cut it out of himself years ago, carved it away with discipline and necessity. Every attachment he had ever allowed had been used against him. Every softness exploited.
Selene was not supposed to be different.
He turned away from the screen, moving through the office with controlled strides. The space was minimalist, designed for function rather than comfort. A desk of dark wood. A wall of monitors. A bar he rarely touched.
He poured himself a drink anyway.
The amber liquid glinted briefly under the lights. He did not drink it.
Instead, his mind replayed the dinner.
The way the room had shifted when she entered. The way the men had watched her, measuring not her beauty, but her value. They had always been predators, those men. They only respected strength or ownership.
So he had shown them both.
My wife. The word still echoed.
He had used it as a weapon, nothing more. A title that drew a line no one dared cross. Marriage was not sacred in his world. It was strategic. Binding. Absolute.
Yet when he had said it, something in him had locked into place.
That disturbed him.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Enter."
Lucien stepped inside, his expression tight, his shoulders tense in a way Adrien rarely saw. Lucien had survived too much to fear easily.
"They confirmed it," Lucien said. "The southern syndicate has eyes on the mansion. Not just the perimeter. Inside."
Adrien's grip tightened around the glass. "How?"
"Staff rotation. Someone talked. Not enough to give details, but enough to raise interest."
Adrien nodded slowly. "They always get curious when something new appears."
"And Selene is new," Lucien said carefully.
Adrien's gaze snapped to him. "Be precise."
"She is visible now," Lucien corrected. "And visibility attracts opportunists."
Adrien turned back to the monitors, enlarging the feed of Selene's door. Guards stood outside. Armed. Alert.
"She was never meant to be visible," Adrien said quietly.
"No," Lucien agreed. "But hiding her was no longer an option."
Adrien exhaled slowly. "They moved faster than expected."
"They always do when they smell leverage."
Adrien dismissed Lucien with a nod. "Increase security. Rotate the inner guards. I want no familiar patterns."
"And her?" Lucien asked.
Adrien did not hesitate. "She stays close to me."
Lucien studied him. "That puts you at risk."
Adrien's lips curved faintly. "Everything does."When the door closed, the silence returned.
Adrien leaned back against his desk, staring at the screen again.
Selene had not cried.That detail mattered.
Many women cried when they realized where they were. When they understood the scope of his world. Tears were easy. Predictable.
Selene had gone quiet.She absorbed.
He remembered the first file he had read with her name on it. Ordinary background. No criminal ties. No ambition. Just wrong timing. Wrong witness. Wrong survival.
She should have been erased by someone else.
Adrien had intervened not because he was kind, but because he recognized the pattern. Someone was cleaning too thoroughly. Too carefully.
She was bait.
And now, so was he. His phone vibrated again. Another message.
Movement confirmed near the docks. Weapons transfer. Same signatures.
Adrien closed his eyes briefly.
So they were committing.
He turned the screen back to Selene just as she stood, moving slowly to the window. She pressed her forehead to the glass, her reflection faint against the city lights.
She looked trapped.
The realization struck harder than expected.
Adrien had built cages before. For enemies. For traitors. For men who needed to be contained.
He had not intended to build one for her.
Yet here she was.
He rose and left the office, his steps silent through the corridor. Guards straightened as he passed, instinctively aware of his mood.
He stopped outside her door.
The feed showed her pacing now, restless. She rubbed her arms as if cold.
Adrien lifted his hand.
He almost knocked.
The restraint it took surprised him.
Instead, he lowered his hand and spoke quietly, knowing the microphones would carry his voice inside.
"Sleep," he said.
Selene froze.
She turned slowly, eyes lifting toward the ceiling.
Adrien watched as she hesitated, then nodded once, as if accepting an order she did not understand.
He stepped away.
He did not trust himself closer.
Back in his office, Adrien activated another screen. Files filled the display. Names. Locations. Timelines.
The people coming for Selene were not after ransom.
They were after him.
She was the lever.
Which meant marriage had not been a choice. It had been inevitability.
Adrien leaned forward, forearms braced on the desk.
He had married her to protect her, yes.
But also to warn them. Touch her and die.
Still, doubt crept in not about the decision.
About himself.
He had underestimated the cost. Selene did not scream. She did not plead. She did not beg. She endured.
That kind of strength demanded respect and respect was dangerous.
Adrien had sworn never to let himself want what could be taken.
His phone vibrated again.
They know you care.
The message was unsigned.
Adrien stared at it for a long moment.
Then he deleted it.
"They're wrong," he said aloud.
But even as he said it, his gaze drifted back to the screen showing her room.
Selene lay on the bed now, turned on her side, eyes open, staring into the darkness. She did not know he was watching.
Or perhaps she did.
Adrien straightened.
If they thought they could use her against him, they would learn a final lesson.
He did not protect what he cared about.
He annihilated what threatened it.
And Selene, whether she understood it yet or not, was now under his absolute protection.
Not because she was weak but because the world would break her if he did not stand in its way.
Adrien Moreau did not lose what belonged to him.
And Selene was no longer just a contract.
She was the line he would not allow anyone to cross.