The CEO's Reluctant Bride

The morning light crept in through the expansive windows, casting soft golden streaks across the penthouse floor. Ava stirred, the warmth of the blanket cocooning her as the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air. For a moment, she forgot where she was—until the events of the previous night came rushing back.

Adrian's penthouse. His insistence she stay. The tension simmering between them.

She groaned, rubbing her temples. Why does being around him mess with my head?

Sliding out of bed, she found a neatly folded shirt on a chair—his. Hesitating only a second, she slipped it on, the fabric soft against her skin, his scent clinging to the cotton. It was infuriating how even that simple thing unsettled her.

She padded out to the living room, her bare feet quiet against the hardwood floors. Adrian stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, phone in hand, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing strong forearms. His voice was low, words clipped.

"Increase security around the building... I don't care what it costs—just get it done."

Ava paused, half-hidden behind the wall. Part of her wanted to confront him about the secrecy; the other part... wasn't sure she was ready for the answers.

Adrian glanced back, sensing her presence. His gaze flicked over her—the sight of her in his shirt sending something sharp and possessive through him—but he schooled his expression.

"You should sit," he said, ending the call. "I made coffee."

"You cook too? Wow, a man of many surprises," she muttered, crossing her arms.

A flicker of amusement touched his lips. "Making coffee isn't cooking, Ava."

Her gaze dropped to the kitchen island where two mugs waited. Taking one, she sipped cautiously—and sighed. Damn him. Perfect coffee too.

They sat across from each other, the silence stretched taut between them until Ava finally spoke. "You're hiding something. Last night, the way you acted... it wasn't just about me being followed, was it?"

Adrian's jaw tightened. "It's complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it." Her eyes didn't waver. "I deserve to know if I'm caught in something bigger."

A muscle ticked in his jaw, torn between telling her and keeping her shielded. "Some things are better left unsaid."

Frustration flared. "That's not your choice to make for me."

"And putting yourself in danger is a choice you're comfortable with?" His voice was calm but edged with steel. "Whether you like it or not, you're involved now. I'm trying to keep you safe."

"By lying?" she shot back. "You can't protect me from everything, Adrian."

The air between them crackled—anger, attraction, something messier swirling just beneath the surface. Then, before she could think better of it, she asked, "Why do you care so much? I'm just someone you blackmailed into a contract."

Adrian's gaze darkened, leaning in. "You think this is just about a contract?"

Her breath hitched. God, why did being near him mess with her balance?

"You push people away," she whispered. "Yet you keep pulling me back in."

He paused, something raw flickering in his eyes. "You're not the only one confused, Ava."

Silence. Heavy. Loaded.

And then—a sharp ding from his phone. Adrian glanced down, the tension morphing into something colder. He slid the phone across the table.

Ava's stomach dropped. A photo. Of them. From last night. Taken through the penthouse window.

Her pulse spiked. "What the hell—"

There was a note beneath the image: "You can't protect her forever."

Adrian stood abruptly, his protective walls snapping back up. "I'll handle it."

But Ava grabbed his arm. "Don't shut me out again."

His gaze softened just enough. "I don't plan to. But you need to trust me."

"I'm trying," she whispered. "But you make it damn hard."

He gave a small, humorless chuckle. "Story of my life."

Outside, the city moved on as if nothing had shifted—but between them, everything felt irrevocably changed.