Chapter 21 Adrian
ADRIAN
Just the fact that she's asking about someone who clearly she's afraid of makes my blood pressure rise.
The warmth drains from the room, and the laughter we just shared, the memories of Bra?ov, the fountain, the burnt cigarettes on Mr. Popescu's roof, all of it evaporates in an instant.
I'm tense now. Every muscle in my body coils tight, ready to spring, ready to hunt.
Elena's watching me, her dark eyes on me, and I can see the question written all over her face. She's waiting for me to say something.
But I can't, because I need to control myself now. The romantic, nostalgic man who was sitting here seconds ago is gone, and the enforcer is back.
The one who kills without hesitation. The one who burns buildings to the ground and leaves bodies in his wake. The one the concrete walls of Bucharest built for the Ionescu family.
I force my voice to stay level, stripping away every trace of warmth.
"No," I say flatly. "I don't know who that is. Why?" I ask.
Elena pulls her knees up to her chest again.
"I saw him," she says. "At the chateau."
My stomach twists.
"When?"
"When I was first taken," she says, her voice quiet. "I don't remember much from those early days. The drugs, they kept me so foggy. But I remember him. Cornel Lupu. His name, and I saw him a few times."
I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, my hands clasped together so tightly, like I'm trying to squeeze this man's neck.
"And?"
"Maxim used to mention his name," she continues. "Especially in the beginning. I didn't know who he was at first, but the name kept coming up. And then..."
She trails off, her gaze dropping to the blanket bunched around her legs.
"Then what, Leni?"
"There was a night in Moscow," she says. "I was in the bedroom, and I heard voices downstairs. I recognized Maxim's voice, and someone else's. Someone familiar. I tried to get closer, but the door was locked. I pressed my ear against it, and I heard Maxim say the name again. Cornel."
My pulse pounds in my ears.
"So you saw him when you were taken, and then he was at," I pause, not wanting to say that piece of shit's name, "Maxim's house?"
"I'm not too sure," she admits. "I never actually saw him that night. But I heard the voice, and I heard the name, and..." She lifts her eyes to mine, and I see the fear flickering there. "I'm pretty sure it was him, Adi."
I sit back, my mind racing.
Cornel Lupu. It means something to her to remember, so now it means something to me, too.
I repeat the name, burning it into my brain.
I don't know who the fuck this man is, but if he's connected to what happened to Elena, if he had anything to do with her being taken, being drugged, being sold to the Volkovs, then he's a dead man.
Elena shifts on the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Why this name? What are you thinking then, Elena?" I ask.
She hesitates, biting her bottom lip. It's the first Elena thing I've seen her do. She always did that when she was thinking. The sight of it almost makes me forget what we're talking about.
"I think..." She stops, takes a breath. "I think Cornel Lupu is the one who orchestrated everything."
I look at her and take a deep breath. I sit up straight and rub my chin.
"You think he's the one who took you?"
"Yes."
"Faked your death?"
"I mean," she shrugs, "I didn't know about that, but yes. Any and everything since. I truly believe he's the one responsible for all this."
"Giving you to the Russians, you mean."
Elena nods, her voice low. "Yes."
My lip twitches, and the rage that explodes inside me is white hot and instant.
I don't even question it. If she believes it, then there's truth to it.
My hands curl into fists, and I want to destroy something. I want to put my fist through the door, through the floor, through the entire fucking side of the house if I could.
But I don't move. I just sit there, staring at Elena, trying my best not to show my anger because I don't want to trigger anything in her.
"I'll look into it," I say, my voice low and deadly. "Immediately."
Elena nods.
"And when I find him, I will learn just how involved he is," I continue. "And then, I will kill him."
Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't look away.
"I mean it, Leni," I say. "I won't show you everything I'm feeling right now, but I won't lie to you either. I always tell you everything. I will hunt him down, and I will make him pay for every second of what you went through."
She doesn't respond, but I see the tension in her shoulders ease just a fraction.
I take a breath, forcing myself to shift gears.
There's more I need to know, and since she's the one who brought this up, maybe now's a good time.
"Since we're on the subject," I say, "I wanted to ask you about the drugs."
Elena stiffens, her arms tightening around her knees.
"The ones you were forced to take," I clarify. "The ones you detoxed from."
She looks away from me.
"What about them?"
"What did they look like?" I ask.
She hesitates, then shrugs one shoulder.
"Blue vials at first," she says, scratching her nose. "Liquid. They'd inject it into my arm or make me drink it. Later, it turned into pills. Small, round, pale blue."
My blood runs cold. I know what that is.
I shake my head, exhaling slowly. "You were being dosed with Siberian Ice."
Elena frowns. "I've heard that name before."
"Yeah?"
"Not in reference to the pill, though," she says. "Maxim never called it that. It was just 'the pill' or 'your medicine' or whatever stupid thing one of the servants picked for the day."
I nod, filing that information away.
"Matei and I discovered it in Los Angeles," I say. "The Volkovs are exporting it. It's tied to all the shit they're doing. The kidnappings, the trafficking, all of it."
Elena's face pales.
"They were giving it to the girls we found," I say in a deep tone. "Low doses to make them compliant. High doses to make them forget. It seems it keeps you awake but dissociated. You can walk, talk, follow orders, but you don't really feel anything."
Elena's breathing quickens.
"Yep, that's what it was," she says. "That's what it did to me."
Her voice cracks on the last word, and I see the trauma spike in her face, sharp and raw.
She shrinks back against the headboard, her arms pulling tighter around her knees, her eyes going distant.
"What happens to me now?" she asks, her voice small and terrified.
My chest tightens.
"What?"
"What happens to me? Am I damaged?" she repeats, louder this time.
The question slams into me like a freight train.
I hate that the Volkovs put that in her head. That they made her believe she could even be anything but perfect.
I hate seeing the fear return to her eyes, the same fear I saw at the chateau when she didn't recognize me, when she flinched away from my touch.
Now more than ever, I want to reach out and grab her. Protect her.
God help me, I want to pull her into my lap and kiss her until she forgets every terrible thing that's happened. I want to bury myself inside her, claim her, remind her that she's mine and no one else's.
I want to feel her again, to hear her gasp my name, to see her come undone beneath me.
My goddess.
But at the same time, Victor's stupid, annoying words echo in my head.
Help her first. Then yourself.
Fucking Victor.
I take a slow breath, forcing the hunger down, burying it deep where it can't hurt her.
Elena needs me to be her anchor right now.
So instead of pulling her into my lap, I reach out slowly and cup her jaw gently, my palm warm against her cool skin, and I tilt her face toward mine, forcing her to look me dead in the eye.
"Absolutely not. You never could be," I say, my voice firm and absolute. "You're with me. Now and forever, no matter what."
Her lips part. "Adi..."
"We are going home to Romania," I continue, my thumb brushing lightly across her lips. "You're going to see your family. Your parents. Stefania. You're going to sleep in our bed, eat your mother's cooking, and never look over your shoulder again."
Tears well in her eyes, but she doesn't blink.
"And the Volkovs?" she asks in a low tone.
My jaw ticks.
"I'm going to make sure there are no Volkovs left."
Elena's breath shudders out of her, and I feel the tension in her body ease.
She leans into my hand, her eyes closing for a moment, and I let my thumb trace the curve of her jaw, remembering how much I loved the feel of her skin beneath my touch.
When she opens her eyes again, they're still wet with tears, but there's something else there now.
She lifts her head. "Promise me," she says.
"I promise."
"Say it again."
"You're with me," I repeat, leaning closer. "Now and forever. No matter what."
A single tear slips down her cheek, and I catch it with my thumb, wiping it away.
"I'm not letting you go, Leni," I say. "Not ever again."
She nods, and then she does something I don't expect.
She reaches up, her small hand wrapping around my wrist, holding me there.
"Okay," she whispers, and then leans forward.