The knock came again—harder this time. Adrian’s stride to the door was swift, sharp, every movement taut with suppressed violence.

Elena pressed her palms to the glass wall, forcing her breath steady. The almost-kiss still burned on her lips, the words unsaid still echoing between them.

The door opened. One of Adrian’s men stepped inside, sweat beading his temple despite the cool night air.

“Boss,” he said quickly, eyes flicking toward Elena before snapping back to Adrian. “It’s Damien. He’s made his move.”

Adrian’s jaw flexed. “Speak.”

The man swallowed hard.

“There was a hit tonight. One of our warehouses. Two men dead. Another missing.” He hesitated, lowering his voice. “And… he left something behind.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

The guard’s throat bobbed. “A message. For you.”

From inside his jacket, he pulled a sleek black envelope, sealed with blood-red wax. Adrian took it without hesitation, but Elena could see the faint tension in his grip.

When he broke the seal, a single card slid out. Black. Silver lettering etched like a blade.

"A king’s crown is heavy. Careful who you let carry it with you."

Elena’s stomach tightened. Her gaze darted between the message and Adrian’s stony expression. “What does it mean?”

Adrian folded the card in half, his voice a low growl.

“It means Damien isn’t just after my empire anymore.”

His eyes lifted, locking on hers. The pale gray burned with something fierce, dangerous.

“He’s after you.”

The room went still. Elena’s breath caught, the weight of his words pressing like iron chains around her chest.

“Me?” she whispered.

Adrian closed the distance in two strides, his hand gripping her chin—not rough, but unyielding, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“Yes. You’re the one weakness he knows I can’t afford. And he’ll use you to break me.”

Her pulse hammered. “Then let me go. If I’m really your weakness, cut me out before he gets to me.”

His eyes darkened, his thumb brushing her jaw in a way that was both tender and possessive.

“You think I could let you go, Elena? You think I’d let Damien touch what’s mine?”

The words struck like lightning—terrifying, undeniable.

Before she could reply, his phone buzzed. He released her reluctantly, pulling it from his pocket. One glance at the screen and his expression turned to stone.

“Another strike,” he muttered. “Damien’s not playing games anymore.”

Elena wrapped her arms around herself as the city lights flickered outside the glass walls.

She had stepped into Adrian’s world thinking he was the danger.

But now she knew—Damien’s shadow loomed larger.

And she was standing at the center of their war.