Adrian's question lingered in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating, curling through the dim gym like something alive.
"What's in it for me?"
Adrian Blackwood never needed volume to dominate a room, and one sentence from him did what a whole armed escort struggled to do: freeze every person in his orbit.
I squared my shoulders, and my pulse crashed and ricocheted inside my chest like it wanted out. Every instinct screamed at me to turn around, tell my team we were leaving, and never set foot in Hell's Watch again. But I couldn't, as too many lives depended on this case and too many families waited for answers and too many bodies had already dropped.
And then there was this bastard Adrian Blackwood who spoke like sin, moved like danger, and looked at me like he was reading every temptation I swore I didn't have.
This is the cost of the trap you built, Cole. Pay it.
I tightened my jaw. "Your sentence," I said, fighting the shake in my voice, "will be reduced. Officially. You'll get credit for cooperation. All you need to do is help us dismantle this network, and we'll negotiate your time."
Adrian didn't move at first, and he simply stared, and those eyes, sharp, pale gray, unblinking, cut through me like a knife through silk, and I felt stripped bare under that gaze. Exposed and fucking seen. Then slowly, so slowly it felt intentional, he let out a low, rich laugh. Nothing about it was mocking, and nothing about it was kind. It was the sound a predator makes after cornering something it finds interesting.
"Reduced sentence?" he murmured. "Captain Cole, do you truly think that matters to me?"
He pushed off the wall with lazy ease and took a step toward me. Not fast, not threatening, just controlled and absolutely dominant.
Behind me, Clara whispered, "Goodness, how does one stay calm in this situation?"
Ryan shifted, clearly regretting not calling in sick, and Sophie tightened her grip on her tablet like it might shield her from the man in front of us. Adrian moved close,r and the surprising scent of citrus sharply clung, and his skin gleamed under the harsh gym lighting, muscles tight, tattoos etched across his body like stories of every violent chapter in his life.
"I've been here for five years," he said calmly. "And in five years, Captain, I haven't bent once to anyone." He paused, letting the words settle like dust. " What makes you think that I will bend to the CSI?"
I swallowed. It felt like the air had thickened. "You want leverage?" Adrian asked softly. "Let me tell you something, the man who survives Hell's Watch with no allies, no protection, no family has no use for bargaining chips."
Clara whispered, "He's provoking you, Cap, dont take the bait."
But I already had. "Adrian," I said, forcing steadiness, "this deal will benefit both sides. Reduced sentence, improved living conditions, and enhanced contact with your family, and we can even-"
He cut me off with a flickering smirk. "Upgraded quarters? Captain comfort is irrelevant, but Power is real."
He took another step, closing the distance until I felt his presence like heat against my skin.
"I already run this place," he said quietly. "With nothing but my voice and my reputation." He let his eyes drag down my form slowly, deliberately, before lifting back up to mine, and Clara stiffened, Ryan exhaled sharply, and I heard Sophie swallowing a gasp. "And now," Adrian murmured, "you come here offering me scraps with the fucking idea that I will obey." His lips curved, dark amusement dancing in his eyes.
I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I am offering a professional exchange and a good deal. No one in Hell's watch has ever gotten such a deal. This case"
"Is drowning you," Adrian chuckled, and my blood froze, and his tone hadn't changed; to calm and controlled, but somehow, he'd stripped every defense I had in one stroke. "You're desperate," he continued. "You're tired, and your team is on the edge and at the last straw." He leaned just close enough that I felt his breath against my cheek. "You fucking walked in here hoping to have it easy, but tough luck."
Heat surged down my spine, anger, humiliation, something else I refused to name. "You don't know anything about me," I said, the words tighter than I meant.
Adrian tilted his head, eyes glittering. "Oh, I know exactly what kind of man you are, Captain Cole."
Clara's warning murmur was barely audible. "Nate, don't let him bait you."
But Adrian's voice drowned out everything else. "You're the man who pretends to be in control. Who pretends rules matter and pretends he's never wanted something dangerous." His voice dropped to a whisper, dark silk sliding down my spine. "But you do, don't you?"
I felt heat crawl up my neck, and behind me, my team stood in stunned silence.
I forced a breath. "We're not here to discuss me."
"No?" he asked softly, lips curving. "Then stop acting like this is about justice, Captain." His voice hardened. "This is about survival. You want to fucking keep the streets clean, and you need my help, apparently. He let the moment hang tense, unbreakable,e before he stepped back just slightly, giving me enough space to breathe again. "I want everything in writing," Adrian said, tone returning to lethal calm. "Every promise, concession, signed, approved, and fucking binding."
Sophie blinked. "H-he wants contractual guarantees, from prison?"
Adrian smirked at her reaction. "Sweetheart, prison is irrelevant. Paper is power. You want my help? Put it in ink."
Clara exhaled. "He's not bluffing."
"I never bluff," Adrian said, not taking his eyes off me. "I'm giving you a single path forward. Don't confuse that with weakness."
I nodded once. "Fine. We'll draft the paperwork."
Adrian's smile widened, slow and satisfied. "Good. Because only then," He paused, savoring the moment. "Will I tell you the name of the scum that is running the streets?"
The room seemed to tilt for a second, and Clara whispered, "We actually got something."
Ryan muttered, "At what cost?" Sophie exhaled like she'd been underwater for a minute.
"It'll be done," I said, voice low. "Everything in writing."
Adrian studied me for a long, excruciating moment. Then: "Excellent."
A single word, but it felt like a verdict. He stepped backward toward the wall again, picking up the towel he'd dropped earlier. His muscles flexed under his skin as he dragged it across the back of his neck. His tattoos, a serpent coiled around his left shoulder, a line of Roman numerals down his ribs, caught the light.
Then he spoke again. Soft. Deadly. "Remember something, Captain."
I braced myself. "You don't command me." He tossed the towel aside. "I decide when this starts." A slow smirk. "And when it ends."
I exhaled shakily. My pulse thundered in my ears. Clara touched my arm like she sensed the edges of my restraint fraying. "We're done," she said, voice sharp. "Let's go."
We turned toward the door, and each step felt too loud, too slow, like walking away from a wild animal whose gaze burned into your spine. The hallway outside the gym reeked of bleach and rusted metal. The clang of the heavy steel door behind us sounded final, echoing down the concrete walls.
Clara leaned closer. "You look like you saw a demon."
"No," Ryan muttered. "He met a demon."
Sophie glanced back once, wide-eyed. "Is it bad that I'm scared of him, but also"
"Don't finish that," Clara snapped.
But I barely heard them, and in the moment before the door fully shut, I made the mistake of looking back. Adrian was exactly where I'd left him, standing in the center of the gym, bare chest gleaming faintly, tattoos cutting across muscle like inked shadows.
His posture was relaxed, and his power wasn't, and then with the slow, deliberate confidence of a man who already knew he owned me. Adrian then winked. Heat shot straight through me, sharp and humiliating and intoxicating all at once. My breath hitched, and my chest tightened while my mind screamed at me to turn away, but some traitorous part of me didn't want to, and then the door slammed shut.
But his presence lingered like smoke thick, dark, clinging to the walls, to my skin, to my pulse. We walked the maze of corridors in silence, passing inmates who pressed themselves against the walls, guards who gave wide berths, doors that clanged and echoed like the heartbeat of Hell's Watch.
My thoughts were a war zone.
Clara finally spoke. "You okay?"
"No," Ryan muttered for me. "He's not, and none of us are."
Sophie exhaled shakily, hugging her tablet. "I've never seen someone command a room like that."
Clara nodded. "He is fucking dangerous on all levels."
They were right. Adrian Blackwood was dangerous.
Dangerous enough to terrify me, fascinate me, and unravel every rule I ever lived by. And as we stepped through the final security checkpoint and out into the cold corridor leading to the exit, I realized the truth with painful clarity: Nothing in my life would ever be the same, and the line between duty and obsession had been erased. And Adrian Blackwood, the king of Hell's Watch, and he was the fucking one who was holding the chalk.