The CEO's Reluctant Bride

The door to the private room slammed shut, echoing through the marble walls. Ava paced, heels clicking against the floor, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Her chest tightened with every breath as she replayed the masked figure's sudden attack—those flashing eyes, the blade that had come far too close for comfort.

Adrian stood near the door, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, clipped, and laced with authority.

"Double the security. I want every exit covered. No one leaves until we find the bastard."

Ava stopped pacing. "You want to explain what the hell that was? Because I just got dragged into some thriller plot I didn't sign up for!"

He ended the call, gaze sharp. "Calm down—"

"Calm down?" She laughed, incredulous. "Someone just tried to attack us! At a public gala! You said this was just a business arrangement. Was getting nearly stabbed part of the contract?"

His jaw clenched. "It wasn't supposed to involve you."

"But it does now!" She stepped closer, anger battling fear. "You keep saying I should stay close, keep quiet—but I'm not some accessory you can control. I deserve to know what's going on."

Adrian exhaled, tension radiating from his frame. For a moment, something vulnerable flickered in his eyes—quickly masked by his usual composure.

"There are things you don't understand," he said quietly. "Things that are dangerous to know."

"I was almost killed, Adrian. Ignorance isn't protecting me—it's painting a target on my back."

Silence stretched between them. Finally, he rubbed a hand over his face, looking... tired. Human. A crack in the steel exterior.

"There's a family," he began slowly, "with old grudges against mine. Business rivalries that turned personal a long time ago. I thought it was buried—apparently not."

"Who are they?" she pressed.

His gaze hardened. "People you're better off not meeting."

Her heart pounded, equal parts fear and frustration. "And what about that note? 'Next time, I won't miss'—what are they trying to do? Kill you? Scare you?"

"Both."

The bluntness sent a chill down her spine.

Later That Night – Uncovering More Questions

Back at the Sinclair penthouse, the city lights sparkled beyond the glass walls, oblivious to the storm brewing inside.

Adrian's security team analyzed footage from the gala while he stood over them, arms crossed. Ava lingered near the bookshelf, pretending to browse while stealing glances at him—focused, commanding... and haunted.

Her gaze drifted to a leather-bound album on the shelf. Curiosity piqued, she pulled it down and flipped it open. Photographs of Adrian from years ago—laughing with a younger man who bore a striking resemblance to him. Brothers? Friends?

Then her fingers froze.

A familiar face appeared in one of the photos—Cassandra Sterling. But it wasn't her presence that shocked Ava—it was the way Cassandra clung to Adrian in the picture, both of them smiling like... like they were something more.

"Find something interesting?"

She jumped, snapping the album shut. Adrian stood behind her, unreadable.

"Just... looking."

His gaze dropped to the album before returning to her. "That was a long time ago."

"Clearly," she said, voice tighter than intended. "You and Cassandra—?"

"It wasn't serious," he cut in. "And it's irrelevant now."

"Did she have anything to do with tonight?"

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I don't know. But I'm not ruling anyone out."

A Vulnerable Moment and Lingering Tension

Later, they found themselves on the penthouse balcony. The cool night air did little to ease the heat simmering between them—not just from anger or fear, but something more tangled.

"I didn't ask for this," Ava murmured, arms wrapped around herself.

"I know."

"I thought this was just a contract. Business."

"It was supposed to be."

"And now?"

He looked at her then, something raw flickering in his gaze. "Now it's complicated."

Her breath caught. For a moment, standing there beneath the stars, the distance between them felt paper-thin. His hand lifted—hesitating—before brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

Her pulse jumped. His fingers lingered... and for a heartbeat, she thought he might close the gap between them.

But then—

His phone buzzed. The moment shattered.

He answered, voice taut. "What is it?"

A beat. His expression darkened.

"Put it on speaker," he ordered.

A distorted voice filled the air:

"You can protect her for now, Sinclair. But everyone has limits. Let's see how far you'll go to keep her safe."

Ava's blood ran cold. Adrian's grip tightened on the phone.

You lay a hand on her

The line went dead.

Ava swallowed hard. "They're not stopping, are they?"

"No." His gaze met hers—intense, protective, dangerous. "And neither am I."