My Mafia Boss Let His Ex Stay in Our Home, So I Packed My Bags Before Morning

Adrian reached out, pulling me into his arms before I could pull away.

He wrapped his broad arms around me so tightly I could hear the erratic, frantic beating of his heart against his chest. He buried his face in my neck, breathing me in.

"I'm sorry," Adrian whispered, his voice rough and cracking with emotion I had never heard from him before. "I am so sorry, Elena. I thought like a boss instead of a man who loves you."

I stood still in his embrace for a long moment before slowly placing my hands against his chest, pushing him back just far enough so I could look him in the eye.

"I love you, Adrian," I said clearly. "But I will not live in a golden cage where your war comes before my dignity. If I am going to be with you, I am your equal. I am not a civilian you protect, and I am certainly not a tool you use for tactical advantage."

"You are my queen," Adrian growled softly, resting his forehead against mine. "There is no one else. There never was."

"Then show me," I demanded. "No more secrets. No more 'this isn't the time.' If your world bleeds into mine, you tell me everything."

"Agreed," Adrian vowed, kissing my forehead gently. "Starting right now."

He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a button on the speaker.

"Marcus," Adrian said into the line. "Is Vanessa locked in?"

"Yes, boss," Marcus's voice echoed through the studio. "And we just pulled a secondary phone from her coat. She received a text five minutes ago from Marco Moretti."

"Read it," Adrian commanded.

"It says: 'The bombs are planted at Vale House. If Adrian isn't there by two o'clock, blow the east wing.'"