Adrian held Joi tightly, his arms forming an unyielding barrier against her fears. Her trembling was palpable, and her soft, uneven breaths tugged at something deep inside him—a part of himself he rarely acknowledged.
He hated seeing her like this. Joi, the woman he had come to know, had once been full of life, laughter, and stubborn determination, or so Emily and Alexander had said. The shell of her now—hesitant, afraid of shadows—was a constant reminder of how much had been stolen from her.
As he brushed a strand of hair from her face, Adrian's mind drifted.
It wasn't just Marcus who haunted her; it was also the void of her memory, the unanswered questions that lingered between them. Questions he couldn't bring himself to answer.
You loved me, he had told her. You gave yourself to me.
He had said those words to give her comfort, to anchor her to him, but a part of him knew they weren't entirely true. Joi hadn't been his—not the way he wanted her to be. And yet, her memory loss had presented him with an opportunity he hadn't expected.
Adrian clenched his jaw, his arms tightening around her briefly. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn't let her go. Not now. Not when she depended on him, trusted him. Not when she looked at him like he was her lifeline.
Her voice broke through his thoughts. "Adrian?"
"Yes?" His voice was steady, controlled, masking the storm brewing inside.
"I'm sorry. I'm… I'm trying to be stronger," she whispered, her gaze dropping to the ground.
"Stop apologizing," he said, a rare edge in his tone. He tilted her chin up gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. "You don't have to be anything other than who you are right now. Do you understand?"
Joi nodded, her lip trembling. "Thank you."
For a fleeting moment, Adrian allowed himself to soften. "You're not alone, Joi. I'm here. Always."
As she rested her head against his chest, Adrian's mind returned to Marcus. The man was out there, somewhere, lurking like a predator. Adrian's blood boiled at the thought. He had resources, power, connections—he could end Marcus's threat with a single phone call if he chose.
But he wanted to see Marcus suffer, to watch him pay for the hell he had put Joi through. And most importantly, Adrian wanted Joi to feel safe again, to reclaim her life.
Looking down at her, so fragile in his arms, Adrian made a silent vow. I'll protect you, Joi. No matter what it takes.
---
Adrian sat in the dim light of his study, a glass of whiskey untouched on the desk in front of him. Outside, the night stretched endlessly, the quiet broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below.
His mind was far from the serenity of the scene outside. Joi's trembling form, her soft cries as she clung to him, replayed in his mind. Her fear had shaken him more than he cared to admit, and the name Marcus lingered like a curse on his tongue.
Adrian leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled under his chin. He had spent years building Valorum Motors into an empire, mastering the art of control and precision. Everything in his world was calculated, every decision deliberate.
But Joi was different.
She had been thrust into his life like a tempest, unraveling the tightly wound threads of his existence. And now, with Marcus looming in the shadows, Adrian felt an unfamiliar emotion clawing at him—helplessness.
He couldn't afford that. Not now.
Adrian reached for his phone and dialed a number. It rang twice before a familiar voice answered.
"Mr. Reginald," the man on the other end greeted.
"I need eyes on Marcus. Now." Adrian's voice was cold, sharp, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
The man hesitated. "We've already got someone tracking him, but he's being careful. He's staying off the grid—"
"Not good enough," Adrian snapped, his tone cutting like ice. "Find him. I don't care what it takes. I want to know where he sleeps, who he talks to, what he eats. And when you do, you wait for my orders."
"Yes, sir," the man replied, his tone brisk.
Adrian ended the call and exhaled slowly, the weight of the situation pressing against his chest.
He couldn't let Marcus win.
But even as his resolve hardened, another thought crept into his mind—Joi's trust. The lie he had told her, the fabrication of their past relationship, hung over him like a sword. She believed him because she needed to. She needed something solid to hold onto in the chaos of her fractured memories.
But what would happen if she remembered the truth?
Adrian stood and walked to the window, staring out into the dark expanse of the ocean. He hated the man he had become—the manipulator, the liar—but he couldn't deny the selfish part of him that wanted Joi to need him.
Her illness had given him a chance to rewrite their story, to be the man she turned to when her world crumbled. And Adrian wasn't ready to let that go.
Not yet.
A knock on the door broke his reverie.
"Come in," he said, his voice regaining its usual composure.
The door creaked open, and Lora stepped inside, her expression unreadable. She was dressed in a silk robe that clung to her curves, the dim light of the room casting an alluring sheen on the fabric.
"Couldn't sleep?" Adrian asked, his tone indifferent.
Lora smiled, closing the door behind her. "Neither could you, it seems."
Adrian returned to his desk, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched her. "Is there something you need?"
She walked closer, her steps slow and deliberate, her gaze locked on his. "I was worried about you. You've been under a lot of stress lately."
"I'm fine," Adrian replied curtly, reaching for his glass of whiskey.
Lora leaned against the desk, her robe slipping slightly to reveal more of her shoulder. "You don't have to pretend with me, Adrian. I know how hard it is to carry everything on your shoulders."
Adrian's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. "If you have something to say, Lora, say it."
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "I could help you relax. You've always been so… focused, so controlled. Don't you ever want to let go?"
Adrian's gaze darkened, his expression turning icy. "Lora, you're playing a dangerous game."
She smirked, undeterred by his tone. "Maybe I like a little danger."
Adrian stood abruptly, towering over her. His cold, piercing gaze pinned her in place. "Let me make something very clear. I don't play games, and I don't mix business with personal matters. Whatever you're hoping to achieve, stop."
Lora's confidence faltered, but she quickly masked it with a sly smile. "You're more intriguing than I thought, Adrian."
"Leave," he ordered, his voice low and commanding.
For a moment, she hesitated, as if considering whether to push further. But the intensity of his gaze left no room for argument.
With a shrug, Lora straightened and walked to the door, her hips swaying deliberately. "Goodnight, Adrian," she said, her tone laced with mock innocence.
As the door clicked shut, Adrian exhaled, the tension in the room dissipating. He returned to his desk, the weight of the night settling over him once more.
His thoughts drifted back to Joi, to the promise he had made to himself.
Whatever it took, he would protect her. Even if it meant facing the shadows of his own lies.