The day passed in a blur for Layla. She couldn't stop replaying Adrian's words in her mind, the anger in his voice when he answered that call, the way his mask had slipped for just a second.
Someone was after him. And now, maybe after her too.
That thought should have been enough to keep her away. To lock her doors and never speak to him again. But when night fell and she found herself once again staring at her half-finished notebook, all she could think of was the way he had looked at her—that strange mix of distance and intensity, like he wanted to protect her yet push her away at the same time.
A knock at her door startled her.
Her heart pounded as she moved cautiously toward it. "Who's there?"
"It's me."
The deep voice was unmistakable. Adrian.
Layla hesitated, then opened the door. He stood there, tall, commanding, dressed in black. But this time, his expression wasn't calm—it was sharp, urgent.
"Pack a bag," he said immediately.
Her eyes widened. "What? Why?"
He stepped inside, scanning the apartment as if checking for threats. "Because you're not safe here anymore."
Layla's blood ran cold. "What do you mean? What's happening?"
Adrian turned to her, his jaw tense. For the first time, she saw something in his eyes she hadn't expected—fear.
"They know about you."
Her breath caught. "Who does?"
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that they won't stop until they get what they want. And now that you've been seen with me…" His voice trailed off, heavy with meaning.
Layla's hands trembled. She wanted to demand answers, to scream that this wasn't fair, that she never asked for any of this. But when she looked at him, she saw the weight he carried—the same weight that haunted his every word.
Instead, all she managed to whisper was, "Why me?"
For a moment, silence filled the room. Then Adrian stepped closer, his gaze locking onto hers. "Because I let them see you. Because I couldn't stay away."
Her heart stuttered. The words were barely above a whisper, but they hit harder than anything he had said before.
Before she could respond, the sound of shattering glass cut through the apartment. Layla gasped, spinning toward the noise.
The window in her living room had exploded inward, shards scattered across the floor.
Adrian was already moving, grabbing her arm and pulling her close. "Stay behind me," he ordered, his voice sharp with command.
Layla's pulse thundered as a shadow moved outside the broken window. A man—masked, armed, eyes glinting with cold intent.
Her world tilted. This wasn't just mystery anymore. This was real. This was danger.
And Adri
an was the only thing standing between her and it.