Chapter 37 THE NIGHT BEFORE
POV: Selena
My phone vibrated against the table just as I reached for it, and the sound made me flinch harder than it should have.
I wanted silence. I wanted one night where nothing demanded a decision from me. Instead, the world kept pressing in, reminding me that tomorrow was already waiting.
I turned the phone face down and leaned back against the couch. Adrian stood by the window, sleeves rolled up, tie gone, his reflection faint in the glass. He had been quiet since we arrived, like he was holding something fragile together by force of will alone.
“Say something,” I said.
He didn’t turn around. “I’m trying to decide what’s worth saying.”
“That usually means you’re scared.”
That got his attention. He looked over his shoulder, one corner of his mouth lifting. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“See straight through me.”
I stood and walked toward him. The apartment was dim, lights low, city noise muffled below us. For once, there were no agents in the next room, no phones ringing, no urgent whispers.
Just us.
“I’m scared too,” I said. “That doesn’t mean we stop.”
He faced me fully now. “That’s exactly what it means.”
“No,” I replied. “It means we choose what scares us less.”
He studied my face like he was searching for a crack. “And what scares you less?”
“Letting Thornton win.”
He exhaled slowly and looked back out the window. “I knew you were going to say that.”
I moved closer, resting my forearms on the glass beside him. “Talk to me.”
For a long moment, he didn’t. Then he said, “I’ve spent my entire life thinking if I just made the right choices, followed the right path, no one would get hurt.”
“And?”
“And people still got hurt,” he said. “They just got hurt quietly.”
I swallowed. “This isn’t quiet.”
“No,” he agreed. “And that’s what terrifies me.”
I turned my head to look at him. “Why?”
“Because loud things leave scars,” he said. “On everyone.”
I thought of my mother. Of my name dragged across headlines. Of how even if I won tomorrow, something would always be lost.
“Scars mean you survived,” I said.
He gave a small, sad smile. “You shouldn’t have to be this brave.”
I reached for his hand. He let me take it, fingers warm, grip tight.
“Neither should you,” I said.
We stood there like that until the tension eased just enough to breathe.
Later, we sat on the floor with our backs against the couch, eating takeout straight from the containers. It felt almost normal, which somehow made it harder.
“If this were any other night,” I said, “I’d complain about the noodles.”
He chuckled. “You hate spicy food.”
“I do,” I admitted. “Yet somehow I keep ordering it.”
“That tracks,” he said. “You ignore warnings.”
I nudged his knee with mine. “Says the man who agreed to this plan.”
“I didn’t agree,” he said. “I surrendered.”
I looked at him. “Do you regret it?”
He didn’t answer right away.
“No,” he said finally. “I regret that it took this long.”
My chest tightened. “For what?”
“For choosing you.”
The words landed softly but carried weight.
I set my container aside. “Adrian…”
“I know,” he said quickly. “Too much. Too soon.”
“No,” I said. “It’s just… dangerous.”
He met my eyes. “So is everything worth having.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder. His arm came around me without thinking, like it was instinct now.
“Do you ever think about after?” I asked.
“All the time.”
“What does it look like?”
He smiled faintly. “Quiet. Mornings without meetings. Arguments about paint colors. You stealing my shirts.”
“I wouldn’t steal,” I said. “I’d borrow permanently.”
He laughed, the sound low and real. “See? Forever.”
I lifted my head. “You said that like you meant it.”
“I did,” he said, his expression turning serious. “When this is over, I want forever with you.”
My throat tightened. “You don’t even know if we get that.”
“I know,” he said. “But I want it anyway.”
I searched his face, trying to see if this was hope or desperation.
“Promise me something,” I said.
“What?”
“That if tomorrow goes wrong, you don’t blame yourself.”
His jaw tightened. “That’s not fair.”
“Neither is any of this,” I replied. “But I need to know you won’t carry it like a sentence.”
He looked away. “I can’t promise that.”
I nodded. “Then don’t promise. Just try.”
He reached up and brushed his knuckles along my cheek. “You’re asking me to be human.”
“I am,” I said. “For once.”
We didn’t rush what came next. There was no urgency, no desperation. Just closeness, shared breath, hands learning familiar shapes in the dark.
Later, lying beside him, I stared at the ceiling while his breathing evened out. Sleep felt impossible.
“What if I don’t wake up?” I asked quietly.
He stirred. “You will.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he said, pulling me closer. “Because I won’t let you go alone.”
I closed my eyes and let myself believe him.
Light crept into the room too soon.
I woke with a start, my body heavy, my mind already racing. Adrian wasn’t beside me.
I sat up, heart pounding.
He stood by the window, fully dressed, jacket on, phone in hand. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He didn’t turn around. “Making a decision.”
My stomach dropped. “About what?”
He faced me then, and I knew before he spoke.
“I can’t let you do this,” he said.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Adrian, we talked about this.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m stopping it.”
“You can’t,” I said, standing. “This was agreed. The FBI—”
“I’m meeting Thornton instead.”
The words hit like a blow.
“No,” I said immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“He called because he wanted leverage,” Adrian said. “I’m better leverage than you.”
“That’s exactly why you can’t go,” I snapped. “He wants you desperate.”
“And you think he doesn’t want you scared?” he shot back.
I crossed the room in two steps and grabbed his arm. “This isn’t your sacrifice to make.”
“Yes, it is,” he said. “It always has been.”
“Adrian, listen to me,” I said, my voice shaking. “If you go alone, you ruin everything. The wire. The evidence. The timing.”
“I know,” he said softly. “But I also know Thornton won’t hurt me. Not publicly.”
“And if he does it quietly?” I demanded.
His eyes flickered. “Then at least it won’t be you.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “That’s not love. That’s control.”
He flinched like I’d struck him.
“I’m doing this because I love you,” he said.
“I didn’t ask you to protect me like this,” I replied. “I asked you to stand with me.”
He picked up his phone. “I already called Marcus.”
My chest tightened. “What did he say?”
“That he’d try to stop me,” Adrian said. “Which means he’s probably already on his way.”
“Good,” I said. “Then wait.”
“I can’t,” he said. “Thornton is expecting an answer.”
I grabbed his hand. “Please.”
He looked down at our joined hands, then gently pulled away.
“I’ll come back,” he said. “I promise.”
“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t promise things you can’t control.”
He hesitated at the door.
“Adrian,” I said, my voice breaking. “If you walk out now, I will follow you.”
He gave a sad smile. “You won’t.”
He opened the door.
“Adrian, no,” I said.
But he was already gone.
The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed felt louder than anything that had come before.
I stood there, heart racing, knowing one thing with terrifying clarity.
If Adrian was going to face Thornton alone, then this plan was already broken.
And I was not going to let it end that way.