Chapter 11 - The Wolf's Wardrobe
Before we could go to the docks, Adrian insisted we return to the Lake Forest estate under heavy escort.
“You need proper clothes,” he said as we walked into the master wing of the mansion. “Silk dresses don't work on shipping docks.”
He led me into an adjoining suite I hadn't seen before. It was a massive dressing room, larger than my entire old apartment, lined with custom closets, floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and display cases containing watches that cost more than a family home.
On the central velvet ottoman lay a set of sleek, black tactical gear: combat boots, Kevlar-lined cargo pants, a thermal shirt, and a tailored ballistic vest.
“Try them on,” Adrian said, leaning against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
I picked up the vest. It was surprisingly lightweight. “Did you have this custom-made for me?”
“I don't leave my people unprotected.”
“Your people?” I asked, looking up through my lashes. “Is that what I am now, Voss? An employee with better benefits?”
Adrian’s eyes darkened. He uncrossed his arms and pushed off the doorframe, walking slowly toward me until the space between us disappeared entirely. He reached out, taking the heavy vest from my hands and setting it aside, his fingers lingering on my bare wrists.
“You haven't been an employee since the second you fell into my arms, Maya,” he said, his voice dropping into a rough whisper.
My breath hitched. “Then what am I?”
Adrian stepped closer, his body heat radiating through the thin sweater I wore. His hand drifted up to my neck, his thumb tracing the sharp curve of my jawline, tilting my face upward until our lips were inches apart.
“You’re the only person in this city who looks at me without fear,” he murmured. “The only one who speaks the truth when everyone else lies to stay alive.”
“Adrian—”
“You’re mine, Maya,” he whispered, his dark eyes consuming me completely. “And God help the man who tries to take you from me.”
Before I could answer, his phone buzzed violently on the dressing table.
The spell shattered.
Adrian closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, inhaling deeply, before stepping back. He snatched the phone off the table and answered in a voice as cold as ice.
“Speak.”
He listened for five seconds. His expression hardened into pure marble.
May you like
“He’s at the pier early,” Adrian said, ending the call and looking back at me. “Put the gear on, Bennett. The hunt is on.”
***