Adrian was having breakfast shirtless in his kitchen, a half-empty glass of whiskey beside his plate—because coffee was for normal people, and he hadn’t been one of those in a long time. Morning light crept through the blinds, painting his scarred chest in slanted stripes of gold and shadow. For once, the world seemed quiet. The city hadn’t screamed yet. He actually thought maybe today won’t be a mess.

Then the door burst open.

Heavy boots thundered on the tiles as two of his men came in, dragging a struggling girl between them. She hit the floor hard, the sound of it—thunk—echoing in the room. Adrian didn’t flinch. He just sighed, picked up a piece of toast, and said dryly,

“Morning, gentlemen. I see we’ve switched from knocking to home invasion. How thoughtful.”

“Sir… we found her looking around. We found it very suspect,” one of them muttered, forcing the girl’s head down.

Adrian’s gaze lifted, slow and sharp. The softness of the morning vanished from his face like smoke. He stood up, chair scraping back, muscles tightening under the light. He wasn’t huge—but he had that dangerous kind of stillness that made the air colder.

He approached, barefoot, each step unhurried. The girl looked up—dirt on her cheek, fear in her eyes—and for a second, something flickered in him. A memory, maybe. Someone else’s terrified eyes from a long time ago. But he buried it just as fast.

He crouched in front of her, tilted his head, and smiled—one of those half-smiles that made people unsure whether to breathe or beg.

“You were looking around, huh?” he said softly, the sarcasm threading through every word. “Tell me, princess, were you sightseeing or stealing?”

She didn’t answer.

He chuckled, low and humorless. “Brave. Or stupid. I like both, depending on the day.”

Then he stood, turned to his men, and waved his hand lazily. “Let her go. If she wanted to kill me, she would’ve done it already. If she’s a spy… well, I could use a little entertainment before lunch.”

His men hesitated but obeyed, releasing her.

Adrian went back to his seat, poured himself another drink, and glanced her way.

“Now,” he said, voice calm but cutting, “let’s start again. Who the hell are you, and why did you think walking into my house was a good idea?”