Chapter 17 THE INTRUDER
POV: Selena
Someone was screaming my name, but it took a moment for me to realize the voice was Adrian’s.
The room was chaos. Shattered glass glittered across the floor like broken ice. Security shouted orders over one another, boots pounding as they rushed past me. My ears rang, my chest burned, and my hands would not stop shaking no matter how tightly I clenched them.
I was still pressed against the wall when Adrian reached me.
“Selena.”
His hands were on my shoulders before I could respond. He dropped to one knee in front of me, eyes scanning my face, my arms, my legs, like he was afraid something terrible would appear if he blinked.
“Are you hurt?” he asked again, louder now. “Tell me you’re not hurt.”
“I’m okay,” I said, though my voice came out thin and unsteady. “I think. I didn’t see him clearly.”
That was enough.
He pulled me into his arms so fast I barely had time to inhale. His grip was firm, protective, nothing hesitant about it. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek, fast and furious, like it was trying to escape his chest.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said, the words low and raw, meant only for me. “I swear it.”
For a second, I let myself believe him.
Behind us, the night exploded with noise. Someone shouted that they had the intruder. Another voice called for medical backup. Radios crackled nonstop.
Adrian did not release me until a security guard cleared his throat.
“We’ve got him,” the man said. “Tried to run. Didn’t get far.”
Adrian stiffened. Slowly, he loosened his hold, but his hands stayed on my arms, grounding me.
“I need to see him,” Adrian said.
“I should come,” I blurted.
He shook his head immediately. “No.”
“I can handle it,” I insisted, even as my knees threatened to give out.
“This isn’t about handling it,” he replied. “This is about protecting you.”
That word again. Protecting.
I hated how much I wanted it.
Adrian turned to the head of security. “Take her inside. Stay with her.”
“I’m right here,” I protested.
He met my eyes, and something unspoken passed between us. Fear. Anger. And something else, something dangerous.
“Please,” he said quietly. “Just this once. Let me do my job.”
I nodded.
They moved me to the sitting area, away from the broken window. I sat on the edge of the couch, hugging my arms around myself, listening to the distant sounds of the intruder being restrained.
Minutes dragged by. Every second stretched.
Finally, Adrian returned.
His expression had hardened into something cold and controlled, the version of him the public saw. The De Luca heir. Untouchable.
“He won’t talk,” Adrian said. “He claims he was paid in cash. No names. No trail.”
“That’s convenient,” I said.
“Yes.”
He sat across from me, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “But he knew exactly where you were. Which window. Which time. That tells me this wasn’t random.”
My stomach twisted. “So what now?”
“Now we assume someone is watching,” he replied. “And we respond accordingly.”
Security eventually cleared the room. The broken glass was covered. The night settled into an uneasy calm.
But I could not stop shaking.
Adrian noticed.
“Hey,” he said, standing and holding out his hand. “Come here.”
I hesitated only a second before taking it. He pulled me up gently and wrapped his arms around me again, slower this time, like he was afraid of startling me.
I rested my forehead against his chest. His warmth steadied me. His presence made the world feel smaller, more manageable.
“I thought I was strong,” I whispered. “I thought I could handle this.”
“You are strong,” he said. “That’s exactly why they’re scared of you.”
I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “Scared of me?”
“You see things others don’t,” he said. “You ask questions people with power don’t want asked.”
Our faces were close. Too close.
His hand lifted without thinking, fingers brushing my cheek, cupping my face like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The air between us felt charged. Heavy. Dangerous.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.
I could see it in his eyes. The conflict. The desire. The fear of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.
My breath hitched.
And then his phone rang.
The sound shattered the moment like glass.
Adrian froze. His jaw tightened as he pulled the phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen.
He exhaled slowly before answering.
“Yes,” he said.
I watched his expression change as he listened. The warmth drained from his face, replaced by something rigid and familiar.
“I understand,” he replied. “I’ll be there.”
He ended the call and looked at me.
“That was my father,” he said.
I already knew what was coming.
“Diana is here,” he continued. “She’s waiting for me.”
The words landed like a blow.
“Oh,” I said, because I did not trust myself to say anything else.
His hand dropped from my face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and for the first time, he looked like he truly meant it.
I nodded, forcing myself to straighten. “Of course. You should go.”
He hesitated, like he wanted to say more. Like he wanted to stay.
But then he turned toward the door.
Security escorted him out.
I was alone again.
And somehow, that hurt more than the fear ever had.