Aria hadn’t slept. The storm outside had faded, but the one inside her hadn’t.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Adrian — rain sliding down his jaw, gun steady in his hand, that maddening half-smile that said I warned you.
She tossed her pen across the room and muttered, “What kind of psychopath saves you and then disappears off a rooftop?”
Her phone buzzed again. Unknown number.
Her pulse spiked.
> Unknown: You forgot your recorder last night.
Unknown: Don’t worry. I didn’t break it. Yet.
She bit her lip. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
> Aria: Where are you?
Unknown: Downtown. Voss Tower. Penthouse.
Unknown: If you’re brave enough to come get it.
Her hands hovered over the keyboard. Every rational thought said don’t go. But curiosity whispered, you already stepped into his world.
---
The elevator doors opened to the top floor of Voss Tower — silent, glass walls revealing the city skyline like a sea of fireflies.
Adrian was sitting on the couch, black shirt unbuttoned just enough to be illegal, cigarette between his fingers.
“Journalists are supposed to have better instincts,” he said without looking up.
“I’m here for my recorder,” she replied sharply.
He flicked ashes into a crystal tray. “You risked walking into a mafia penthouse for a recorder. That’s dedication… or stupidity.”
Aria crossed her arms. “I don’t scare easily.”
He finally met her eyes, that dangerous smirk forming. “You should.”
She ignored the warning, snatched the recorder from the table — then froze.
The little red light was blinking. Recording.
“You—” she started.
Adrian shrugged lazily. “Curiosity works both ways. I like knowing what kind of questions you ask about me.”
“You listened?”
“Only the interesting parts.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You really think I’m some cold-blooded villain, don’t you?”
“Am I wrong?” she shot back.
He smiled faintly, exhaling smoke. “Not completely.”
The air between them thickened. She should’ve left. She didn’t.
“Why do you keep pulling me into your mess?” she asked quietly.
He stubbed out the cigarette, stood, and walked toward her — slow, deliberate. “Because you keep walking into it.”
“I’m not your puppet.”
“No,” he murmured, brushing past her shoulder, voice low in her ear. “You’re something far more dangerous.”
Her breath hitched. “And what’s that?”
He looked down at her, eyes darker than the city night. “A distraction.”
Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. The playful mask vanished.
“Get everyone to the docks,” he ordered, voice sharp. “Now.”
He ended the call and grabbed his coat.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Shipment ambush. Someone tipped off the cops.”
She blinked. “And you think I—?”
His jaw clenched. “I don’t know. But if you did, you just started a war.”
Her chest tightened. “I didn’t—”
“I believe you,” he said finally, softer. “But they won’t.”
“Who’s they?”
“The people who just put a price on your head.”
---
Aria’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean a price—”
Before she could finish, the window shattered.
A bullet tore through the air, missing her by inches. Adrian grabbed her, dragging her behind the couch as glass rained down.
“Stay down!” he barked.
Her heart hammered in her chest. “They’re shooting at me?!”
“At us.”
He fired back through the broken window, hitting the sniper light across the street.
“Welcome to my world, Miss Blake,” he said, voice almost calm.
“You call this welcome?” she shouted.
He grinned. “You’re still alive. That’s as polite as my world gets.”
The gunfire stopped. Sirens wailed somewhere below. Adrian stood, helping her up. “We have to go. Now.”
“Go where?”
“Somewhere they can’t find you.”
“I’m not running!”
He gave her a look — half frustration, half admiration. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
She glared. “Not when I’m onto the biggest story of my career.”
Adrian chuckled softly, pulling her toward the private elevator. “You’re not writing this one, Aria. You’re living it.”
---
As the elevator descended, she caught his reflection in the mirrored walls — the calm, the danger, the storm hiding behind his smirk.
And she realized something terrifying.
She wasn’t just in over her head.
She was falling — hard.
The doors slid open into the underground garage, headlights cutting through the shadows.
“Get in,” Adrian ordered, opening the car door.
She hesitated. “If I go with you… there’s no going back, is there?”
He smirked. “You already went over the edge the moment you showed up on my rooftop.”
Aria climbed in. The car roared to life, speeding into the night, city lights blurring behind them.
She glanced at him — the devil she couldn’t stay away from — and whispered to herself,
Curiosity doesn’t just kill. It seduces.
---
End of Chapter 4 — “Shadows and Cigarettes”
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