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“Where did you get those scars on your hip?”

Startled, I looked down at myself, to the spot where my skin-tight shorts had ridden up way too high. Three of the several-inch-long scars were now exposed among all the small pale stretch marks.

Fuck.

I pulled my pants down further so that the fabric was back in place, but the uncomfortable feeling that Adrian had just invaded my privacy did not go away.

“From my old life,” I replied curtly and turned back to the punching bag.

“Was it you?” Adrian asked tonelessly.

“No,” I blurted out, and began punching the bag.

“Who?” Adrian asked. “Larissa.” He stepped closer. “I just need a name.” I stopped boxing and turned to him, overwhelmed. “And that person is history.”

The control in his voice threw me off balance.

Damn it! Why did he care? Why did he even think it was someone? What if I'd had an accident?

My heart was pounding in my chest, and Adrian's gaze spoke volumes. He meant what he said.

My own words surprised me. “That person is already history.”

Confusion flashed across his face, but then he furrowed his brow in dissatisfaction and stepped closer.

He misunderstood me.

“Larissa...”

“Ah, there you are, Larissa,” a delighted female voice rang out.

I turned away from Adrian and spotted Camille, dressed in an elegant three-piece business suit that – as always – made her look professional and influential. Her dark red lipstick contrasted sharply with her turquoise-green eyes, as did her high cheekbones with her feminine heart-shaped face. In addition, she wore an elegant black fedora, which sat at a slight angle over her full black hair.

She looked as if she had just come from a business trip.

“Adrian,” she said with a smile and I was not sure if it was genuine or fake. “I hope you don’t mind if I kidnap your niece for a moment.”

Wow. Did she have to remind me like that?

Adrian hesitated, but finally gave in.

“Of course not.”

With one last suspicious look, he made it clear to me that the conversation was definitely not over yet.

Camille then pushed me through the training hall toward the elevator, her hand on my lower back.

“You'll train later,” she explained as we entered the elevator.

“What are you up to?” I asked curiously.

“Let yourself be surprised.”

She gave me a wink, and I tried not to let more of my curiosity show.

“Thanks,” I said at some point, as the elevator doors opened onto the large entrance hall.

Camille looked at me searchingly before we walked across the hall, over the marble floor, to the stairs.