“So?” I urge.

“Remember when I told you Boss is expected to marry Kristina?”

I nod.

“Just because he wants out of it doesn’t mean he can. Not only is Igor, Kristina’s father, a powerful member of the Bratva who will take no disrespect, but the Pakhan himself is also against ending the engagement.”

My heart shrinks and any semblance of peace I managed to feel the past couple of weeks crumbles. “So, what? He will marry her?”

“I don’t know. He’s thinking of solutions to get out of it, but if he doesn’t come up with a reason that will satisfy both Igor and the Pakhan, he’ll be put in a bad position and might lose his power within the Bratva.”

My stomach churns and its contents nearly spill to the ground.

Either Adrian marries Kristina or he’ll lose his power.

I know exactly which option he will choose. He lives for power, control, and patterns. He’ll never sacrifice his work for someone like me.

Besides, I shouldn’t want him to. It’s not like I love him or anything.

My chest squeezes as I softly thank Yan and hobble back to the bedroom. He brings in large bags from the kitchen and gets rid of the torn clothes and everything in the closet.

As I sit on the bed, the only thing I can think of is how Adrian will marry Kristina.

The beautiful Russian Kristina, who was basically made to be his wife.

A dark emotion simmers underneath my skin, one even I don’t recognize, but there’s one thing I do recognize.

I need to stop him from marrying her.

Another week goes by and I fall into a loathsome routine. My lack of purpose is eating away at my soul. I’m so used to conditioning or rehearsing, and now that all of it is gone, I feel a hole eating away at my soul.

I try going out to the park and Yan accompanies me, sometimes with another guard named Boris. I hate it when Boris joins us, because Yan doesn’t act as carefree as when it’s just me and him.

Then I go back home and start dabbling in cooking to occupy my time. Adrian doesn’t like that, however, because my leg is still in the cast and he says I stand for too long.

But I need to do something; otherwise, I’ll go out of my mind waiting for him to come back.

I’ve become attuned to his footsteps. They’re heavier and more powerful than Yan’s, but still silent enough considering his build. Like right now.

His scent sometimes precedes him, or maybe I’ve gotten so used to him that I can smell him, even from a long distance away. I can get lost in that wood and leather scent, like it’s the only one I’ve ever smelled.

I scramble to my feet from my position in front of the TV and go to meet him. Adrian is removing his coat and hanging it by the entrance, revealing his white shirt and black pants. Not a day has passed where he hasn’t looked breathtakingly beautiful in a rugged sort of way.

Dangerous, too.

But I guess some part of me yearns for that danger, or I wouldn’t have fallen for him so easily. And I need that danger to make me forget about the black hole eating away at my soul.

Nowadays, I don’t get to see him for long or touch him enough. Well, I don’t touch him, anyway, since he’s the only one who does that. Even though he doesn’t leave until after I wake up, he usually spends the entire night on his phone, typing away. Sometimes, he steps out to talk to Yan and Kolya. He barely sleeps by my side and he’s stopped initiating sex.

From the day he barged into my life until the evening of my accident, he never once spent a night without fucking me. And now that the sexual touch is gone, I feel an emptiness like nothing before. I went years without sex with other people, but it never had the impact these past twenty-one days have. Actually, it’s been twenty-five since that day he fucked me against the wall.

And no, I’m not counting.

It doesn’t help that he’s getting more attractive, too much for his own good. Or maybe I’m just getting sexually frustrated.

Adrian releases a breath when he sees me in the entrance leaning my useless leg against my other one. “You shouldn’t put pressure on your injury, Lia.”

“It’s okay.”

He narrows his eyes.

“It’s fine. Jesus. Are you the vocabulary police?”

“Only when it comes to that word.” He reaches me in two strides and picks me up, carrying me and the crutch in his arms. It’s the closest I’m able to get to him lately, and that’s probably why I make it a habit to greet him at the door every day.

I wrap my arms around his neck and search his harsh but ethereal gray eyes and the light in them. There are exhaustion lines on his face, and it takes everything in me not to smooth the crease between his brows.

Yan refuses to divulge much about Adrian’s business, but I can tell he’s been overworking himself lately. If anything, coming here is taking more time and effort than he probably should give.

I want to ask about Kristina, but fear of his answer always stops me. What if I’ve been a mistress all along and I just don’t know it yet?

Adrian sets me on the sofa and places the crutch by my side. “Wait here. I’ll get dinner.”

“I ordered takeout. It’s on the counter.”

He raises a brow. “Are you finally listening to me, Lenochka?”

I lift a shoulder. “I didn’t like the scent of food when I was cooking.”

Adrian observes me for a second, and it’s intrusive, as if he’s peeling away the exterior and trying to peer at what’s inside. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being the subject of his interest. It always feels odd, yet strangely endearing, for a cold man like him to care about me.

He’s cold to the world, but not to me.

Then he strides into the kitchen. The TV is on, broadcasting some cooking show, but my entire attention is on his agile movements, on the easy and purposeful way he moves around the room, setting out the food with plates and utensils.

Soon after, I hobble to the table and he sits beside me with the containers between us. I ordered Lebanese because I had it in my teens, and it’s remained on my mind ever since. Since I can eat anything—and that’s not just limited to salad anymore—I’ve been stuffing myself like a pig. I don’t even know where I got the sudden appetite from.

Adrian doesn’t comment on my choice of cuisine, digging in without any fuss. Now that I think about it, he’s never mentioned disliking anything.