145: Nobody Touches My Girl

145: Nobody Touches My Girl
ADRIAN

I stared at the envelope taped to the door, my fingers itching to rip it off and crush it, but somehow I held myself back. I'd seen these before. Too many times.

I tore it open.

The message was cold and deadly.

"Unfortunately, you are on a hit list. Someone paid to kill you. You can't escape, but we will give you the chance to sort things out with your family. This deal cannot be reversed."

I froze when my gaze skimmed over the lower part of the letter. My stomach twisted.

It wasn't my name. It was hers.

Rue.

My blood pounded in my ears, every nerve ending on fire. Someone had put her on a hit list. My girl. Someone wanted her dead. And I... I could feel the rage stirring inside me like a living thing.

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to stay steady, though I knew I sounded insane. "Rue..." I growled, not taking my eyes off the envelope.

She leaned closer, her hands brushing against my arm. "Adrian... what is it?"

I glanced at her. She was so achingly beautiful. I wanted to shield her from the world, from every danger, from everything.

My hand hovered near hers, almost trembling as I clenched it into a fist. "Someone... someone wants you dead."

Her eyes went wide. "Wha—what? That's... that's impossible."

I stepped closer, almost crushing her against me, my voice dropping low. "Rue, listen to me. Nobody, and I mean nobody, is going to touch you. Not while I'm breathing. Not while I can move."

Her lips parted, and for a brief second I thought she might argue or protest, but she just looked at me.

She looked at me like she trusted me with her life, and that made my chest ache.

I pressed the envelope into my palm and crushed it in my hand.

Her hand reached for mine, tentative. "We'll figure it out... together."

I moved even closer, my forehead almost touching hers. "Rue, you are mine. Don't you ever forget that."

She nodded slowly, her blue eyes twinkling.

The envelope sat crumpled in my grasp. I didn't need to read it again. I didn't need to know the details. I just knew one thing.

No one.

Would.

Hurt.

Her.

I pressed my hand over hers, my fingers curling around hers possessively. "Stay close," I whispered. "Because from now on... no one sees you unless I say so. And anyone who tries... Rue, I'll make them regret it until the day they die."

Her pulse was racing under my palm, and my chest throbbed with it. I wasn't letting anyone take her away.

Not now. Not ever.

I barely had a chance to close the door behind us when my phone buzzed. I didn't even want to look. My instincts screamed at me to throw it, to smash it, to set it on fire.

But curiosity won. I pulled it from my pocket, my thumb trembling as I unlocked the screen.

A text. From my father.

"Do you like your gift?"

My vision went red. Red with blood. Red with rage. Red with the kind of fury that makes your fists ache before you even move them.

Gift.

I felt my lungs constrict, my chest pounding so hard I thought it might burst.

I wanted to throw the phone across the room. I wanted to rip him from the inside out. My father dared to... what? Taunt me? Mock me? Test me?

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe, but my teeth were gritted. My hand tightened around the phone until the screen cracked under my fingers. I didn't care. Nothing mattered except her.

I looked at Rue. Her hand still brushed against mine, and my chest throbbed with protective obsession. I couldn't let my father put her in danger, not for leverage, and definitely not for some twisted "lesson."

Her eyes widened, searching mine. "Adrian... what—what's wrong?"

I dropped the phone onto the floor, ignoring the cracked screen, and pressed her back against me, my forehead resting against hers. 

“Rue," I whispered, my voice trembling, "they're going to learn. They're all going to learn. Nobody touches my girl. Nobody. Ever."

Her pulse thrummed beneath my palm, her breath was shaky, and I wanted to devour and shield her.

"Adrian..." Rue's voice was soft and hesitant, but it set fire to my insides.

She pressed her hands to my shoulders, then leaned forward, brushing her lips against mine.

I groaned, catching her lips with mine again, more fiercely this time.

My hands tangled in her hair, holding her impossibly close.

Her soft moan against my mouth drove me insane, and every warning in my mind dissolved.

"Rue," I rasped, my teeth brushing her lower lip, "don't... don't make me wait."

She smirked against me, daring me, tempting me, and I lost it entirely.

I pressed her against the wall, her back hitting it with a soft thud, and she gasped. My hands roamed over her body, reckless and greedy, memorizing every curve, every inch of her warmth against me.

"Adrian," she whispered, her voice trembling, "I... I want you."

"I'm... yours, Rue." I rasped between kisses, grinding into her, losing every shred of control. "All of me... all of this... it's yours."

...

She was asleep against me, naked and warm, her skin pressed to mine, soft and impossibly beautiful.

My hand traced the curve of her back unconsciously, just holding her.

My green eye followed her in the dim light, and I couldn't help it. I pressed a slow, reverent kiss to her forehead.

"You're insane," I murmured, barely above a whisper, though the words weren't for her. They were for anyone who even thought about touching her.

And then, begrudgingly... I almost laughed under my breath. Not at her, at him. Her father. Killian.

Because somewhere in this madness, he'd made her mine. Not that she needed permission. But he hadn't used a condom.

So now, she was here. With me. Alive, flesh in my hands, tethered to me. I shook my head slightly. Thank you, Killian... I guess.

I didn't stay lost in that thought long. The envelope, the hit list, the thought that someone had already paid to kill her... it burned in my chest hotter than any desire. I had to move.

I had to prepare. I had to make them regret daring to touch her.

Gently, I shifted, careful not to wake her. My eyes lingered on her one last time, memorizing the curve of her hip, the line of her neck, and the soft, steady rise of her chest.

Then I forced myself to pull away, swallowing hard as desire and rage tangled in my gut.

I moved to the dresser, pulling on my clothes. Shirt first, then pants, boots, belt... every movement building me up for what I was about to unleash.

Before leaving, I dialed my top security. "Secure the penthouse. All entrances. Cameras full feed. Nothing in or out without my permission. Got it?"

"Understood, sir," came the calm, professional reply.

"Good. And stay armed. I'm not leaving anyone alive who even breathes near her."

The line went dead, but I felt the surge of power against the creeping fear that had been gnawing at me since the envelope.

I grabbed my gun from the safe, feeling its weight in my hand, my fingers brushing the cold metal.

I checked it twice, meticulously.

I took a deep breath and glanced back at Rue's sleeping form. Mine.

I tucked the gun into my holster, slung my jacket over my shoulders, and let the hum of rage and obsession carry me forward.

Outside the penthouse, the city waited. And so did my wrath.

...

I stormed into my father's office, the weight of my gun in my hand an extension of my rage.

Fabian looked up, calm and confident. Unaware of the turbulence in my chest.

"Adrian," he said. "Is this about—"

I didn't let him finish.

"You really think the Romano empire belongs to you?" I spat, letting my finger rest lightly against the trigger of the gun.

His eyes widened, just for a fraction, and I knew that the first wave of fear had hit him. Good.

"Everything you built, everything you think you own…belonged to her," I growled, my chest tight with fury. "My mother. She loved you. Gave you everything. And you... you cheated it all away with your arrogance and your greed."

He blinked.

"You hear me?" I stepped closer. "I'm taking it back. Every single piece. And you—" My thumb brushed the trigger. "No one, no one is going to stop me."

I let the gun rise and fired.

The bullet slammed into the wall a foot from his head. The echo tore through the room.

My father froze, his eyes wide as he swallowed hard. I let my finger rest on the trigger for a second longer, savoring the look on his face. The sudden, stomach-churning realization that he wasn't untouchable.

"You think you've controlled everything," I hissed, pacing slowly, my gun still raised. "You think you're untouchable. But you've never seen madness like mine. Not until now."

Another shot. This one missed by inches, grazing the corner of the desk. Paper fluttered to the ground.

His face went pale. Sweat beaded at his temple. The man was terrified, and I let it sink in. I wasn't trying to kill him. Not yet. I was teaching him, showing him who I had become.

"You built your empire on arrogance," I continued. "But I... I've inherited something you'll never understand. Obsession. Loyalty. I will take everything back from you and anyone who stands in my way..." I squeezed the gun tighter. "...will wish they hadn't."

I circled him slowly, letting the full weight of my presence, my madness, and my intent press down on him. "This empire was hers first. And now... I'm making it mine again. Step by step, brick by brick, blood by blood, if I have to."

A third shot went off, missing by a hair. Fabian stumbled back, nearly losing his balance. His calm façade shattered completely.

His hands shook terribly.

"You thought you could play god," I whispered. "But gods bleed too. And today, Father... today, I begin my reckoning."