And now I know exactly what he is.
A threat.
And threats, in this world, get eliminated.
Maybe, it’s cold, but I’m a mother now, and my son will not ever be used as collateral.
Gabe made his choices, and he will have to live and die by them. Still, the thought makes me feel ill. I’m having trouble reconciling the Gabe I took care of as a little boy with the man threatening to sell me.
Adrian is waiting when we pull up. He's out the door before the car even stops, yanking my door open, hands on me immediately.
"Are you hurt?" His eyes scan me frantically. "Did he touch you? Did he?—"
"I'm fine." I let him pull me out of the car, let him check me over. "The baby's fine. Everything's fine."
"You're shaking."
"Adrenaline,” I say. It doesn’t assure him. "Can we go inside? I'll tell you everything, but not out here."
He doesn't let go of me as we walk into the mansion. His arm is around my waist, protective and possessive. We go straight to our wing, to our bedroom, and he finally releases me to lock the door.
"Tell me." His voice is controlled, but I can see the rage simmering underneath. "Everything. Now."
So, I do.
I tell him about Gabe appearing in the changing room. About how good he looked. About the money demand. About his threats.
"He said he'd turn you in," I explain. "That he had recordings and documents. But I didn't believe him. If he had anything real, he'd have used it already. He’s desperate. He’s made too many enemies, and he’s trying to get someone off his ass.”
Adrian's expression is murderous. "You called his bluff."
"Yes. And then he went to option two." I swallow hard. "He said he'd sell me to the Morozovs. That they'd pay well for me.”
Something in Adrian's face goes absolutely still. Then he explodes.
"FUCK!" He grabs a lamp off the dresser and hurls it against the wall. It shatters, glass spraying everywhere. "That motherfucker. That goddamn?—"
"Adrian—" I don’t even flinch. Because I’m not scared. Even in his rage, Adrian ensure my safety. I’m not even close to a singular piece of glass.
Because Adrian would destroy himself before he destroyed me. The thought is sobering.
"I should have killed him months ago. Should have put a bullet in his head the second I learned he was working with the feds?—"
"Adrian, stop."
"—but I didn't because you asked me not to. Because I was trying to be what you needed. And this is what happens. This is what mercy gets you?—"
"Adrian!" I grab his arm, forcing him to look at me. "Stop. Listen to me."
He's breathing hard, eyes wild, every muscle tensed for violence. I place my hands on his face, bringing him down to me so we are eye level.
"I'm okay," I say firmly. "I'm here. I'm safe. The baby's safe."
"He put his hands on you."
"Yes. And I screamed, and your guards came, and he ran. It's over."
"It's not over until he's dead."
