Chapter 18 – The Storm at the Gate
Adrian's question lingered in the air like a blade pressed against Ethan's throat.
"Who was here?"
Ethan's breath came shallow, panic knotting in his chest. He could lie. Say no one came. Pretend everything was fine. But Adrian's gaze—sharp, unwavering, consuming—burned through every excuse before it could form.
Ethan's lips trembled. "It was… no one important."
Adrian's expression hardened, his jaw tightening as though the words themselves were an insult. "Don't lie to me, Ethan."
Something in his tone, low and dangerous, made Ethan flinch. The Omega lowered his gaze, staring at the marble floor as if it might shield him from the storm building in the room.
Adrian moved closer, his hand cupping Ethan's chin, forcing him to look up. His touch wasn't rough, but it wasn't gentle either—it was unyielding, binding Ethan in place.
"Tell me," Adrian demanded. "Who stepped into this house while I was gone?"
For a moment, Ethan wanted to rebel. To refuse. To claw back some semblance of control. But Leon's smirk flashed in his mind, along with the whispered promise: Sooner or later, you'll come running to me.
Shivers wracked Ethan's spine. His voice was barely a whisper when he answered.
"Leon."
The name cracked the air like lightning.
Adrian froze. His grip on Ethan's chin tightened, then abruptly released, as though the very mention of that name burned his skin. His expression twisted, rage flooding his features like a storm breaking free.
"He was here?" Adrian's voice was quiet—too quiet. The kind of quiet that promised destruction.
Ethan swallowed hard. "He didn't… do anything. He just—"
"Just what?" Adrian snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut.
Ethan's heart pounded. "He talked. That's all. And then he left."
Adrian turned away, pacing like a predator too caged to unleash its claws. His fists clenched, the veins in his forearms straining against his skin.
"That bastard," Adrian growled, his voice laced with venom. "Stepping into my territory… into my home."
Ethan flinched at the possessive claim. My home. My territory.
Adrian spun back to him, eyes burning. "Did he touch you?"
Ethan's lips parted in shock. "What? No!"
"Did he come near you?" Adrian pressed.
"Yes, but—"
The sound of a glass shattering filled the room before Ethan could finish. Adrian had slammed his fist onto the coffee table, the crystal tumbler there exploding into shards.
Ethan gasped, instinctively stepping back.
Adrian's chest heaved with ragged breaths, his anger a living, breathing thing that seemed to consume the air itself.
"I should kill him," Adrian spat, his voice low, dangerous. "I should tear him apart for daring to come here."
Ethan's pulse raced. He hated Leon, but Adrian's fury was terrifying—so absolute, so primal.
"Adrian," Ethan said softly, cautiously, as though speaking to a beast poised to strike. "Please… calm down."
Adrian's eyes snapped to him. For a long moment, they were wild, feral. Then, slowly, painfully, restraint carved itself back into his expression.
He took a breath. Then another. His fists unclenched, though the tremor in his hands betrayed the effort it took.
Finally, he spoke again, his voice rough. "From now on, you don't leave this house without me. Do you understand?"
Ethan stiffened. "What? That's—"
"No arguments," Adrian cut in, his tone brooking no defiance. "You're mine, Ethan. Mine to protect. And I'll be damned if I let that bastard lay a finger on you."
The words crashed into Ethan like waves against stone. He wanted to rage against them, to scream that he wasn't some possession. But underneath the anger and the fear, there was something else—something warmer, more dangerous.
A tiny, treacherous part of him thrilled at the fierce protectiveness in Adrian's voice.
And he hated himself for it.
---
Later that night, the mansion was cloaked in silence.
But Adrian wasn't in his study, and Ethan wasn't in his room.
Instead, Ethan found himself sitting on the balcony outside his bedroom, the night air cool against his skin, the city lights glittering in the distance like a thousand secrets.
His thoughts circled endlessly. Leon's smirk. Adrian's fury. The notebook still sitting unopened on the table.
The world felt like a chessboard, and he was nothing more than a pawn being pushed back and forth between ruthless players.
A soft creak broke his reverie.
Ethan turned—and froze.
Adrian stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the glow of the bedroom lamp. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket anymore, just a black shirt that clung to his frame, the top buttons undone. The Alpha looked less like the ruthless CEO and more like something untamed, raw.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Adrian crossed the balcony, stopping just a step away. His eyes searched Ethan's face, softer now, though still shadowed by the storm from earlier.
"You should be asleep," Adrian said quietly.
"I couldn't," Ethan admitted, his voice low.
Adrian studied him. "Because of Leon?"
Ethan's throat tightened. He nodded, just once.
Adrian's jaw clenched, but he didn't lash out this time. Instead, he sat down beside Ethan, their shoulders nearly brushing. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words.
Finally, Adrian spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't promise you freedom, Ethan. Not yet. But I can promise you this—I won't let anyone hurt you. Not Leon. Not anyone."
Ethan's chest ached. He should reject the words, dismiss them as empty promises. But when he glanced sideways at Adrian, he saw no deceit there. Only raw, terrifying sincerity.
It was almost worse than lies.
Because lies were easy to fight.
The truth was dangerous.
Before Ethan could reply, Adrian shifted closer, his hand brushing against Ethan's on the railing. The touch was fleeting, hesitant, almost unsure—yet it sent sparks skittering across Ethan's skin.
Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, the world stilled.
Adrian leaned closer, his lips parting—
And then his phone rang.
The sound shattered the moment like glass.
Adrian cursed under his breath, pulling back to answer. His tone snapped back into sharp command as he barked into the phone.
Ethan sat frozen, his heart pounding, his hand still tingling from the ghost of Adrian's touch.
When Adrian hung up, his expression was grim.
"That was security," he said darkly. "Leon's men were spotted near the gates again."
Ethan's blood ran cold.
Adrian's gaze locked onto his, fierce and unyielding. "This ends tomorrow. I'll make sure of it."
---
Far across the city, Leon lounged in his penthouse, a glass of wine in hand.
His phone buzzed. A message.
> He's restless. The cracks are showing.
Leon's smile curled.
"Good," he murmured, raising his glass in a mock toast. "Let Adrian think he's protecting his Omega. The more he cages him, the sweeter it will be when Ethan breaks free."
His gaze drifted to a photograph on the table—Ethan's face captured in perfect detail, lips parted in surprise, eyes wide and vulnerable.
Leon's smirk deepened.
"The storm's coming," he whispered. "And I'll be the one standing when it clears."