Chapter 10 A Moment Stolen
Darcy's POV
The text hits me like a slap.
Stay away from my granddaughter.
Granddaughter. The word coils around my throat like steel. My vision blurs, and for a moment, I’m no longer in Adrian’s penthouse. I’m back in a tiny apartment where warnings, insults, and threats were constant where every adult’s voice carried weight that could crush a child’s world. Where fear and caution were lessons drilled into me before I even understood them.
I lock my phone, but the words sting behind my eyelids.
Adrian steps out of his office, holding Hazel on his hip. His eyes immediately lock on me, sharp with concern, scanning my face like he can read my thoughts without words.
“Darcy,” he says, his voice low, careful, dangerous in its own way. “What happened?”
I shake my head, swallowing hard. “It’s nothing. Really. I’m fine.”
He doesn’t buy it. He never does. Not when Hazel is involved. His eyes soften, the tension in his jaw easing just slightly. Then he exhales, slow and controlled.
“Get your shoes. Both of you,” he says softly. “We’re going for a drive.”
I want to argue. I want to curl up in the guest room and lock the door until my heartbeat slows. But the weight of his hand on the small of my back guides me forward without choice. Hazel babbles happily, unaware of the tension between us. “Park?” she asks.
“Yes, sweetheart,” I reply, smiling. “Park.”
Adrian’s gaze flickers to me sharp, cautious but he doesn’t speak. I nod at him. He gives a slight, almost imperceptible nod back.
The drive is quiet. Hazel chatters about clouds, dogs, and snacks, her words spilling over one another in a joyful jumble. The calm of the suburban streets contrasts sharply with the chaos of the morning, the flashes outside the penthouse, the text from his mother, the sense of being watched.
Adrian drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting lightly on Hazel’s small legs. Every so often, his eyes flick to me in the rearview mirror. I feel them. Feel the concern, the protectiveness, the underlying tension that refuses to leave him.
We arrive at a small, secluded park. Wide fields stretch in every direction, dotted with towering oaks. No crowds. No paparazzi. No interruptions. Just us. Just… breathing space.
We settled under a massive tree. Hazel curls in my lap, her tiny backpack full of toys beside us. The grass is cool against my palms. The air smells faintly of wet earth and spring blooms.
For the first time in days, Adrian looks relaxed. Tie loosened, sleeves rolled, shoulders down. His face isn’t hardened by deals or defenses. He looks… human. Fragile in a way that’s almost mesmerizing.
“You’re quiet,” he says softly.
“I’m thinking,” I reply.
“That’s what worries me,” he murmurs, tilting his head toward the sky, the sunlight glinting off the golden streaks in his hair.
I laugh at a small, jagged sound but the weight behind it doesn’t disappear. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I do. And I will,” he says, eyes on me, steady and piercing.
Hazel yawns and snuggles into my lap. Within minutes, she’s asleep, her chest rising and falling in a perfect rhythm. My heart aches at the sight, at the way her tiny body finds comfort in me so effortlessly.
Adrian watches silently. There’s something unspoken in the way his jaw softens, the way his eyes linger on us. The quiet is so heavy it almost hurts.
“She trusts you,” he says, voice low.
“I know,” I whisper. “I don’t want to disrupt her life. Or yours.”
“You’re not a disruption,” he replies, eyes locking with mine. “You’re the only calm thing we’ve had in weeks.”
The words hit somewhere deep, somewhere I’ve been careful to protect. I can feel the pull, the warmth, the danger in letting myself linger here.
I lean back against the tree trunk, Hazel asleep across my lap. Adrian shifts closer, the brush of his thigh against mine sending sparks through my chest. I don’t pull away. Not yet.
He glances at me, then at Hazel, and I see the father in him, the fierce, protective, dangerous love he can’t hide. It’s intoxicating. Scary.
For a while, the three of us stay like this, suspended in a fragile moment of peace. Hazel’s breathing slows. Adrian’s hand brushes against mine, accidental or deliberate, I can’t tell. The warmth of him, of her, of this tiny, perfect bubble tempts me. Pull me in. Makes me want to believe in something I haven’t allowed myself to feel for years.
I close my eyes and inhale the scent of grass and sun and him, just for a second. A perfect moment. Too perfect.
Because nothing in my life or his is ever safe for long.
A faint click slices through the calm.
I freeze. Hazel stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake.
I lift my head, scanning the tree line. A man crouches just beyond the park’s edge, phone in hand, aiming directly at us.
My heart drops.
Adrian notices too, his eyes narrowing. The faintest line of anger crosses his perfect face. He leans slightly toward me as if to shield us.
The stranger snaps another photo, the flash small, quick, but enough. Enough to capture Hazel in my lap, Adrian leaning protectively beside me. Enough to capture us looking… like a family.
Something primal stirs inside me fear, anger, a protective instinct I didn’t realize I had.
Adrian stiffens. The muscles in his jaw flex. His hands curl into fists. He doesn’t move yet he wants to assess, to plan but the heat radiating off him is immediate. Dangerous. Uncontrolled.
Hazel shifts in my lap, mumbling in her sleep, unaware of the new threat. I tighten my arms around her, feeling the pull of instinct, the need to protect this fragile bubble we’ve created.
Adrian’s voice is a low growl. “They’re watching us. Someone’s watching.”
I glance at him, startled by the sharpness in his tone. He’s usually controlled. Calm. Methodical. Not like this.
I feel it is dangerous. The fragility of the world outside this park. The perfect moment is gone, stolen in a click of a shutter.
I press a kiss to Hazel’s temple, whispering, “It’s okay, baby. We’ve got you.”
Adrian’s hand rests on my back, firm and grounding. The air between us is taut with adrenaline and something else, something unspoken, a tension that could snap at any moment.
We stand slowly, the three of us, hearts beating fast. The park is still, but we’re not alone. Someone has turned our peace into a target.
And they don’t know what’s coming next.
Because they just captured a perfect moment and that moment is ours to defend.