Chapter 29
Lucia's POV
I stirred awake slowly, my body stretching languidly across the bed. A faint ache lingered in my shoulders from the way I’d slept, and as I rubbed my eyes, the world came into focus. The room was dim, the curtains still pulled shut, but a sliver of city light slipped through the gap, painting the floor with silver.
And then I saw it.
The shadow of a man sitting in the chair by the window.
My breath caught before the scream tore out of me, sharp and panicked. My heart slammed against my ribs, and I scrambled upright, clutching the sheets.
The figure jolted at my voice, sitting forward—and the moment I recognized him, my panic shifted into something else entirely.
Adrian.
He was there. Sitting in my room. Watching me.
For a second, I couldn’t breathe. My eyes flicked down to myself, to the flimsy lingerie I’d fallen asleep in, thin straps slipping off my shoulders, skin exposed in the pale glow. My cheeks burned, and another scream escaped me as I yanked the bedcover around my body, fumbling with it like a shield.
My voice shook when I finally managed words. “For how long… how long have you been here?”
Adrian rose slightly, his expression unreadable, his voice rough, and uncertain. “I—since last night. I came back.”
The words hit me like ice water. My head snapped up, my eyes widening as the words rolled off my lips. “Last night?” The shock pitched my voice high, almost breaking. “Last night?”
He hadn’t just come in. He had been here. While I slept. My mind spun, fragments colliding. He had been sitting there the entire time—watching me, guarding me, I didn’t know which.
“You’ve been here since I was—” My throat closed on the words, shame and anger tangling together. “You were watching me sleep?”
He stood then, his movements deliberate, but there was no aggression in them, just that same impossible calm he always carried. “No. I wasn't watching you sleep,” he said at last, quietly, as if it were nothing. “I came back. I stayed. That’s all. You should be glad I did. Those evil people could come back”
I couldn’t respond. My mouth went dry, my thoughts scrambled. My grip on the bedcover tightened until my knuckles ached, the fabric bunched tight against me. I stared at him, searching his face, trying to make sense of him—of this man who had killed in cold blood many times, yet sat here like a shadow in my room, watching me breathe.
He broke the silence first. His back turned to me, and with his voice low and firm, he just blurted. “Go freshen up. We leave for the office soon.”
The words startled me. “With you here?” I demanded, my voice cracking with disbelief.
He didn’t turn around. “There’s no other place for me to go.”
My stomach twisted, fear and unease crawling under my skin. I swallowed hard, pulling the sheet tighter around myself, every step toward the bathroom felt heavy, and reluctant. My legs trembled, but I forced them to move.
When the door closed behind me, I pressed my back against it, my chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. The silence on the other side was suffocating. He was pacing, I could hear it faintly—the creak of the floor under his steps. He was still there. Still waiting.
I gripped the sink, leaning over it, forcing myself to breathe. Calm down. Just calm down. The mirror stared back, foggy at the edges, my reflection came back pale, and shaken, my eyes were wide with something I didn’t want to name.
I turned on the shower. The rush of water filled the room, a thin barrier between me and the weight of him outside. The heat worked its way into my skin, loosening the knots of tension in my muscles, but it couldn’t reach the storm inside. Even as I scrubbed myself clean, the thought clawed at me—he’d been here, in the dark, his eyes on me, every second I was vulnerable.
And yet… he hadn’t touched me. He could have. God knows he could have. But he hadn’t.
That truth unsettled me more than anything else.
When I stepped out, I brushed my teeth, rinsed my mouth, and tried to wash away the taste of fear. I wrapped a towel around my waist, securing it tightly, my damp hair hanging loose over my shoulders, dripping water onto my skin. My heart slowed, just a little. Maybe he’d left. Maybe the sound I heard earlier—yes, the door, I thought I’d heard it close. Relief whispered through me.
I opened the door carefully, stepping into the dim room.
And froze.
He was still there.
Adrian stood near the window, with his back turned at first, but when he heard me, he turned. His eyes locked on mine, sharp, unyielding, holding me in place. My breath caught, panic flooding back.
The towel felt too thin, too fragile against his gaze. My chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, my fingers tightening against the fabric at my waist.
I panicked. My feet moved before I could think. I turned, rushing back toward the bathroom, the sudden motion making the water still clinging to my skin slick against the floor.
My foot slipped.
A sharp gasp left me as my balance gave way, the world tilting.
But before I hit the ground, his arms were around me. Strong, steady, and pulling me upright with effortless speed.
And in that instant—
The towel slipped.
It fell from my body, exposing my bare body and pooling at my feet — my huge breast staring right at his face.
His hands held me, his breath close, and for a heartbeat the world stopped.