Chapter 8 - The Ghost from the Past
Upstairs in the master suite, Camille was sitting by the window, watching the moonlight ripple across Lake Michigan, when the heavy oak door opened softly.
Adrian walked in. He had removed his suit jacket, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the corded muscle and faint scars of a life drenched in violence. He looked exhausted—not from physical fatigue, but from the crushing weight of everything he carried.
"It's over," Adrian said quietly, stopping a few feet away from her.
Camille turned around. "Marco?"
"Gone. He won't be a problem anymore." Adrian walked closer, his dark eyes searching her face. "Travis is being transferred to a maximum-security federal penitentiary under an alias. He will never, ever leave that place."
Camille let out a breath she felt like she had been holding for six years. The tight knot in her chest finally loosened, allowing air to fill her lungs completely for the first time since she had walked out of that hospital room.
"Thank you, Adrian," she whispered.
"Don't thank me yet," Adrian murmured, dropping to one knee before her chair, just as he had done in the supermarket—though this time, there was no blood, no panic, only a profound, desperate vulnerability. He reached out and gently took her hand, pressing his palm against hers. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, Camille. I know I broke your trust by walking away, even if I thought I was doing it to keep you safe."
"Why didn't you come back sooner?" Camille asked, her voice cracking as a single tear traced down her cheek. "When the war was over... why didn't you find us?"
"Because I was a monster, Camille," Adrian said, his voice raw. "My hands were stained with blood. I looked at myself in the mirror every night and told myself that letting you go was the only merciful thing I ever did. I thought you deserved a quiet life, a safe life, far away from the syndicate."
May you like
"And instead, I lived in fear every single day," Camille whispered, leaning down to touch his cheek. "A safe life isn't worth anything if you're constantly running for your life, Adrian. We didn't need a fortress. We needed you."
Adrian closed his eyes, leaning his face into the palm of her hand, a shudder running through his massive frame. "Then let me spend the rest of my life proving it to you."
