The first time I met Adrian Moretti, I didn’t know his name. I didn’t know who he was, what he was capable of, or why the men in the room bowed their heads when he spoke. All I knew was that he walked in like a storm—cold, devastating, and unstoppable.
The room fell silent when he entered. The man who had been yelling in my face moments earlier suddenly straightened, his bravado wilting in Adrian’s presence.
I was tied to a chair, my wrists raw against the rope, the damp air of the warehouse suffocating. My heart thundered in my chest as Adrian’s piercing gray eyes landed on me. He tilted his head, his expression unreadable as he assessed me like I was some puzzle he intended to solve.
“Who is she?” His voice was low, dangerous.
“Collateral,” one of the men muttered. “Her brother owes us.”
Adrian’s gaze didn’t waver. He stepped closer, his polished shoes echoing against the concrete floor. I couldn’t look away from him, even as my fear clawed at my throat. There was something magnetic about him, something that made it impossible to tear my eyes away.
When he crouched in front of me, his face level with mine, I caught the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with something metallic—blood. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the rope binding my wrists, and for a moment, I thought he was going to untie me. Instead, he spoke, his voice soft but chilling.
“Do you know who I am?”
I shook my head, too afraid to speak.
“Good.” He leaned closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “That means you’re smart enough to stay alive.”
I was released that night, but not without a warning. Adrian made it clear that I wasn’t free, not really. He said he’d let me go because I wasn’t involved in my brother’s mess, but if I stepped out of line—or if my brother did—it would be my life on the line.
I should have been relieved to get away from him, to return to the safety of my apartment and pretend none of it had happened. But Adrian’s face haunted me. His eyes, his voice, the way he looked at me like he saw more than I wanted him to see—it was all burned into my memory.
I thought I’d never see him again. I was wrong.
Unlikely Encounters
Two weeks later, I found him sitting in the café where I worked. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even order a drink. He just sat in the corner, his eyes following my every move.
When my shift ended, he was waiting outside.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice trembling.
“I wanted to see you.” He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like it wasn’t completely insane for a man like him to show up in my life uninvited.
“Why?”
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You intrigue me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Adrian Moretti, a man who could have anything—or anyone—he wanted, was intrigued by me? It didn’t make sense.
But then, nothing about him made sense. He was a contradiction—dangerous yet protective, cold yet oddly warm in the moments when his guard slipped. And no matter how hard I tried to resist, I couldn’t stop myself from being drawn to him.
Over the next few weeks, Adrian kept appearing in my life. At first, it was subtle—a glimpse of him across the street, a black car idling outside my building. Then it became more direct. He’d show up at my work, at the grocery store, even at the park where I went to clear my head.
“I’m not stalking you,” he said one evening when I confronted him. “I’m protecting you.”
“From what?” I asked, exasperated.
“From the people who want to use you against me.”
That was when I realized the truth. I wasn’t just some random girl he’d saved out of the goodness of his heart. I was a liability. A weakness. And Adrian Moretti didn’t tolerate weaknesses.
It wasn’t until the night I found myself cornered in an alley by two men with guns that I understood just how deep I was in. Adrian appeared out of nowhere, disarming one of them with a swift, brutal motion. The second man didn’t even have time to react before Adrian had him pinned against the wall, his knife pressed to the man’s throat.
“You don’t touch her,” Adrian growled, his voice dripping with menace. “You don’t even look at her. Do you understand me?”
The man nodded frantically, and Adrian released him with a shove. He turned to me, his face softening as he cupped my cheek.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can’t let anything happen to you.” He brushed a strand of hair out of my face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “You mean more to me than you should.”
That night changed everything. I stopped fighting my feelings for Adrian, stopped pretending I didn’t want him as much as he wanted me.
Our relationship was messy, complicated, and dangerous. Loving Adrian meant accepting the darkness that came with him, the violence and the bloodshed. But it also meant feeling alive in a way I never had before.
He was my protector, my tormentor, my salvation. And I was his one weakness, the only thing in his world that he couldn’t control.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised me one night as we lay tangled in his bed. “No matter what it costs me.”
I believed him. And I knew that loving Adrian Moretti would either save me—or destroy me.
The End
