Adrian Moretti didn't sleep much.
Nina learned that quickly. Sometimes, after their nights together, she would drift into a restless doze in his arms, only to wake in the pale gray of dawn and find him still awake shirtless by the window, cigarette glowing between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the city below.
The sight always unsettled her.
He looked untouchable, cut from stone, every line of his body sculpted in shadow and pale light. But it wasn't his beauty that haunted her it was the silence in his eyes, the sharpness, the way he stared at the world as if every skyscraper, every streetlight, every sleeping soul was a piece of a chessboard only he knew how to play.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked one morning, her voice husky with sleep.
Adrian turned his head slightly, smoke curling from his lips. His eyes, shadowed in the early light, caught hers.
"You."
The answer was too sharp, too quick, as if it had cost him nothing. But there was something in his tone that made Nina's skin prickle a rawness, an edge she couldn't name.
"You can't mean that," she whispered, pulling the sheets tighter around her.
His gaze lingered on her, unflinching. "I don't waste words, Nina. When I say I'm thinking about you, I am. Always."
The intensity of it made her chest tighten. It should have comforted her. Instead, it felt like chains tightening around her wrists.
She turned her face away, unable to hold his stare. A tremor ran through her, a whisper of Daniel's softer smile flashing in her memory and she felt guilty even for thinking of him in this moment.
That day, Adrian kept her close.
He didn't let her leave after breakfast. Instead, he led her through the penthouse, showing her rooms she had never entered before private spaces that felt more like confessionals than living quarters.
The library was the first. Shelves lined the walls, heavy with books: law, philosophy, politics, and classics all annotated in his precise, dark handwriting.
"You read these?" Nina asked, running her fingers over the spines. She recognized titles she had struggled with in class, volumes of history, Greek tragedies, and works on strategy.
His lips curved faintly. "Knowledge is power. You never know when you'll need it to destroy someone."
Her hand froze on the shelf. "That's… cold."
Adrian stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "It's survival. In my world, the difference between winning and dying is who reads the fine print."
His words should have repelled her. Instead, they made her shiver, both frightened and fascinated.
Another room was darker: leather-bound journals stacked neatly on a desk, every one of them numbered in Roman numerals. Nina reached out, her curiosity stronger than her fear.
"Don't," Adrian said sharply.
She flinched, pulling her hand back as though burned. His jaw tightened, his voice low but edged. "Those are mine. Things no one touches. Not even you."
The barrier stung her, though she didn't know why. For all his control, for all the ways he bent her life to his will, there were still corners of him she was not allowed to see.
And that, more than anything, reminded her how much of a stranger he still was.
By evening, he was quieter than usual, watching her with an intensity that made her skin heat. They sat across from each other in the living room, glasses of wine in hand, the city lights flickering like distant stars beyond the glass wall.
"You want to know why I'm like this," he said suddenly.
Nina blinked. The question felt like a knife cutting into silence. "Like what?"
His eyes narrowed, studying her. "Obsessive. Controlling. Relentless."
The word obsessive caught in her chest. She hadn't said it aloud, but she couldn't deny it was true.
"Adrian…" she started, unsure.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I was thirteen when I saw my first betrayal. My father…." His mouth twisted, bitter. "He trusted someone he shouldn't. That man tried to slit his throat in front of me. I learned that night that trust is weakness. That love…" He scoffed. "Love is the sharpest blade of all."
Nina's breath caught. She had never heard him speak of his past, never seen the flicker of pain beneath his armor.
"That doesn't mean everyone will hurt you," she whispered.
His gaze snapped to hers, steel and fire. "But you could. And that's why I can't let you go."
The words struck her like lightning. Part threat, part confession, part plea.
"Adrian," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. "You can't…."
He was already beside her, cutting off her protest with a kiss that burned. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her into his lap, his mouth devouring hers with desperate hunger.
"You think I'm too much?" he growled against her lips. "That I'm dangerous? You're right. But you'll still come back, Nina. You always do."
Her body melted against him, traitorous, trembling with need. She hated herself for it, but she couldn't stop. Every touch, every command, every kiss dragged her deeper into his darkness.
And he knew it.
The air between them turned electric. His hands slid under her blouse, fingers grazing her bare skin, his mouth tracing fire down her throat. She gasped, her fingers clutching his shoulders as the world spun.
"Say it," he demanded, his breath hot against her skin. "Say you're mine."
Her chest heaved. Her mind screamed no. But the tremor in her body betrayed her, and the words slipped past her lips in a broken whisper.
"I'm yours."
Adrian's smile against her skin was dark, triumphant. "Good girl."
The way he said it made her shiver not just from desire, but from the terrifying realization that he wasn't simply making love to her. He was branding her. Claiming her.
The next day at campus, Daniel's voice was the opposite of Adrian's growl.
"Talk to me," he said, stopping her outside the lecture hall. His eyes were gentle, but they pinned her more than Adrian's force ever could. "Please. I can see he's pulling you under."
Nina's chest ached. "It's not that simple, Daniel."
"It is," he countered softly. "You just don't believe you deserve simple."
Her throat closed.
Daniel reached out, brushing his fingers against her hand. It was the lightest touch barely there but it lit something inside her that Adrian's fire never had.
Warmth. Safety. A choice.
She pulled her hand back quickly, glancing around, terrified Adrian would somehow see.
Daniel's jaw tightened. "He doesn't own you, Nina. Not if you don't let him."
But she couldn't answer. Because the truth was, Adrian already did.
That night, Adrian sensed it again.
He kissed her harder, held her tighter, as if trying to erase Daniel's touch from her skin. His whispers grew darker, his hands more possessive.
"You think he can save you?" Adrian murmured against her neck. "You think he can give you what I do? He can't. He'll never know you the way I do. He'll never own you like I already do."
Nina's body shuddered under him, torn apart inside.
Because part of her wanted to scream at him that she wasn't his.
And another part whispered that maybe, terrifyingly, she was.
By dawn, as Adrian lay sleeping beside her, Nina stared at the ceiling with tears slipping silently down her cheeks.
She was unraveling.
Caught between Daniel's promise of freedom and Adrian's chains of fire.
And the worst part was…
She didn't know which one she wanted more.