Adrian prepared for war, gathering his men, his empire, his weapons of influence. But Amaya knew Marcus was expecting that.
"You can't fight fire with fire," she told Adrian. "If you go to him with guns, Clara dies."
His jaw clenched. "And what do you suggest?"
"Let me go to him," she said, her voice steady though her heart pounded.
Adrian froze. "Absolutely not."
"You don't own me," she shot back. "If I'm the reason he's doing this, then I'll be the one to end it."
For a long moment, silence stretched between them, thick with tension. Then Adrian gripped her wrist, pulling her close, his voice raw.
"If he hurts you, I'll kill him with my bare hands."