ADRIAN'S POV
For the first time in weeks, the world was… quiet.
No sudden calls. No threats wrapped in politeness. No power plays disguised as coincidence.
Just work.
I stood on the terrace overlooking the Italian coastline, phone pressed to my ear, listening as numbers and strategies flowed smoothly from the other end. Decisions were made. Agreements were reached. Territory stabilized.
Everything fell into place the way it was supposed to.
"You handled this well," my father said over the line. "The partners are satisfied."
"They should be," I replied calmly. "We've secured the routes and eliminated unnecessary friction."
A pause. Then, softer—prouder.
"And Kiss?"
I glanced through the glass doors.
She was in the courtyard below, laughing.
Actually laughing.
Not the guarded smile she wore when she thought the world was watching—but real laughter, free and unrestrained, as one of the women dramatically demonstrated how not to hold a gun.
"She's… adapting," I said.
My father chuckled. "That's one word for it."
The call ended shortly after, and I stayed where I was for a moment longer, watching her.
She was surrounded by the wives of my partners—women who had survived decades in a world that devoured the weak. They were formidable in their own right. Strategic. Deadly when needed.
And yet, with Kiss, they were gentle.
Protective.
Like they'd already decided she belonged.
I didn't interrupt.
I never did when she looked that alive.
---
KISS'S POV
"I swear, if you hold it like that again, you'll dislocate your shoulder," Sofia said dramatically, snatching the gun from my hands.
I burst out laughing. "I'm trying!"
"That's the problem," Lucia chimed in. "You're thinking too much."
They'd dragged me to a private training range on the estate grounds—a place hidden behind stone walls and olive trees. At first, I'd been terrified.
A gun wasn't something I'd ever imagined holding.
But they'd been patient.
Firm. Encouraging. Unyielding.
"In our world," Sofia said, pressing the weapon back into my hands more gently this time, "being protected is a privilege. Being able to protect yourself is power."
I swallowed, nodding.
"Feet shoulder-width apart," Lucia instructed. "Relax your shoulders."
I inhaled slowly, steadied myself, and pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed sharply—but this time, the recoil didn't throw me off balance.
The target wobbled.
Then—
A clean hit.
I froze.
Then they cheered.
"That's it!" Sofia clapped. "See? She's a natural."
My heart raced—not from fear, but from something deeper.
Confidence.
Later, as we sat under the shade sipping iced drinks, Lucia leaned closer, her tone softer.
"You love him."
It wasn't a question.
I hesitated, then nodded. "I think… I'm learning how to."
She smiled knowingly. "Men like Adrian don't fall easily. But when they do, they burn the world down to keep what's theirs."
I glanced back toward the estate.
Toward him.
"He doesn't say it," I murmured.
"He doesn't have to," Sofia said. "We see it."
My chest tightened.
---
ADRIAN'S POV
She didn't see me watching when she came back inside later that evening—sun-kissed, hair slightly undone, eyes bright.
She was radiant.
"You look pleased," she said, kicking off her shoes as she walked toward me.
"I am," I replied.
"With what?" she asked, teasing.
"With you."
She paused.
Then smiled—soft, slow, real.
That night, there were no words for a while.
Just closeness.
The kind that didn't need to be rushed.
Her fingers traced lazy patterns against my arm as we lay tangled together, the world temporarily reduced to breathing and warmth and shared silence.
"This is dangerous," she murmured eventually.
I kissed her temple. "Everything worth having is."
She turned slightly, looking up at me. "When we go back… things won't stay like this."
"No," I agreed. "But this—" I gestured vaguely around us, then between us. "This will remind us what we're fighting for."
She rested her head against my chest.
And for once, I let myself believe it.
---
KISS'S POV
The call came the next afternoon.
I was curled up on the couch, laptop open, trying to catch up on work when my phone buzzed.
A familiar name flashed across the screen.
I answered instantly.
"Augustina?"
There was a dramatic gasp on the other end.
"So you do remember me," she said loudly. "I was beginning to think you replaced me with Italian wine and mysterious billionaires."
I laughed so hard I nearly dropped the phone. "Tina, stop!"
"You disappeared," she accused. "No calls. No explanations. Nothing. Are you alive? Kidnapped? Married?"
"All of the above," I teased.
There was a beat of silence.
"…Wait. Married?"
"No!" I said quickly, still laughing. "Relax."
"Where are you?" she demanded.
I hesitated only a second.
"Italy."
A scream pierced my ear.
"ITALY?! Kissabel Hilson, you better explain yourself before I book a flight and hunt you down."
"I will," I promised. "When I'm back. Everything. I swear."
Another pause—then her voice softened.
"I'm glad you're okay."
"So am I," I said quietly.
After the call ended, I stared at the screen for a moment longer, warmth settling in my chest.
I wasn't alone anymore.
Not really.
---
ADRIAN'S POV
She told me about the call as we stood on the balcony that evening.
"You're smiling," I noted.
"My best friend," she said. "She thinks I vanished off the face of the earth."
"You kind of did," I replied dryly.
She laughed, leaning into me. "I'll explain everything when I'm back."
"When," I repeated thoughtfully.
She looked up at me. "You're not coming?"
"I will," I said. "Just… later."
She nodded, understanding more than I said.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in gold and crimson.
For now, the war was quiet.
But we both knew—
Peace never lasted forever.
And when the storm returned…
We'd face it together.