ADRIAN'S POV
Morning light filtered into the office in thin, golden lines, settling quietly over the couch, the desk, the scattered reality of what had happened.
I woke up slower than usual.
Not because I was tired—but because for the first time in a long while, peace wrapped around me like a fragile promise.
Kiss was still asleep.
Her back was to me, hair cascading over the pillow, bare shoulders rising and falling with each soft breath. She looked nothing like the woman who had built empires in silence or the queen who had returned to claim what was hers.
Right now, she was just… my wife.
And that thought hit me hard.
I shifted slightly—and that was when she stirred.
Her body tensed.
Then she sat up abruptly, pulling the sheet with her, eyes sharp despite the early hour.
Silence stretched between us.
Long. Heavy.
"This…" she said finally, voice quiet but firm, "…wasn't supposed to happen at all."
The words landed like a blade.
I sat up too, rubbing a hand down my face. "Kiss—"
"No," she cut in, turning fully to face me. "We crossed a line. Again. We said we wouldn't. We agreed this was just business."
Something snapped.
"For Christ's sake, we are married!"
The shout tore out of me before I could stop it.
Her shoulders flinched.
Instantly, regret slammed into my chest.
I exhaled hard, standing up, running my hands through my hair as I turned away. "Damn it… I didn't mean to shout."
She stayed silent.
That was worse.
I turned back slowly.
"Kiss," I said, softer now, rawer. "Look at me."
She did.
Her eyes were shiny with tears —but stubborn.
I crossed the distance between us and knelt in front of her, taking her hands before she could pull away.
"Stop fighting alone," I said quietly. "Stop carrying everything by yourself like the world is yours to bleed for."
Her lips trembled.
"You have a family here," I continued. "Me. Our children. People who would burn the world for you if you just let them."
She swallowed.
"You shouldn't leave again," I said, voice dropping, resolve settling in. "And even if you want to—"
I leaned closer.
"I won't allow it."
The determination in my tone made her inhale sharply.
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then—
"…Okay."
The word was barely audible.
"I'll come home," she said. "I'll stay. No disappearing."
Relief crashed into me.
But then her lips curved.
Slow. Dangerous.
"But don't get comfortable, Adrian Goodwill," she added, winking. "You'll have to chase me back. I won't give it to you easily."
Before I could respond, she slipped off the couch, laughter spilling freely as she ran into the adjoining room.
The door slammed shut.
Locked.
I stared at it.
Then chuckled.
"If you don't open that door," I said calmly, stepping closer, "and I have to step inside myself—"
I paused deliberately.
"You'll be punished. My way."
From behind the door came her playful voice.
"I'd like to be punished… daddy."
Heat surged instantly.
I shook my head with a laugh. "You're playing a dangerous game."
Her laughter echoed again.
But before I could make good on my threat—
My phone buzzed.
Isaac.
I cursed under my breath and answered.
ISAAC'S POV
I checked my phone again.
Nothing.
"Still no answer?" Augustina asked gently as she cradled Harmony, rocking her while Adrian's twins lay nearby, half-asleep, milk bottles abandoned.
I sighed. "Adrian's been unreachable all morning."
She smiled knowingly. "Then stop worrying."
I frowned. "What if something happened?"
Augustina rose slowly, careful with Harmony, and walked over to me.
She placed a soft kiss on my lips.
"He can take care of himself," she said. "Just like you do."
She handed Harmony back to the nanny and turned to the twins, adjusting their blankets with practiced ease.
"They'll be fine," she added calmly. "So will he."
Something about her certainty eased my chest.
ADRIAN'S POV
By the time Kiss emerged from the room, fully dressed, hair flawless, composure restored, it felt like the world had realigned.
She grabbed her bag. "I need to go home. Prepare some things."
"I'll come with you," I said instantly.
"No."
I frowned. "Kiss—"
"You have meetings," she said firmly. "And I have… arrangements."
I crossed my arms. "I'm not letting you walk out alone."
She sighed. "Adrian, don't start."
"I insist."
She paused.
Then turned slowly.
"Our children," she said softly. "They're waiting."
That did it.
I exhaled, defeated.
"…Fine," I said. "Go. But I'm coming home later."
She smiled, victorious.
"I'll be waiting."
She leaned in and kissed my cheek—gentle, promising.
And then she was gone.
Leaving behind silence.
And hope.
KISS'S POV
The moment I reached home, the walls came down.
I locked the door.
Slid down against it.
And cried.
Not from regret.
But from the ache of wanting everything back—without destroying what we'd rebuilt.
I wiped my tears.
Straightened.
Then turned toward the basement.
Ashley looked barely conscious, tied, broken, breathing shallowly.
I poured myself a glass of wine and sat across from her.
"Pour the water," I told my men calmly. "Add salt again, double ."
Ashley screamed when it hit her wounds.
I watched without blinking.
"You tried to take my life," I said softly. "And my children's."
I sipped my wine
.
"That was your last mistake."
Her screams echoed.
Cold satisfaction settled in my chest.
I wasn't running anymore.
I am coming home.