Chapter 32 Adrian
ADRIAN
The sun has set and Elena and I are still in the office when suddenly my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out and the screen lights up with a single line of text from Lucian.
He just passed the main gates.
I stare at the words for a moment, the knot in my stomach tightening. Then I look up at Elena, who's sitting on the couch, her hands folded in her lap. She's been quiet for the last hour, lost in her own thoughts.
"He's here," I say.
Her head snaps up, eyes wide.
I pocket the phone and reach behind me with my right hand, adjusting the gun tucked into the waistband of my pants.
"Come stand behind me," I tell her.
Elena blinks and then narrows her eyes at me.
"Why?"
I look at her, really look at her, and force a small wink.
"Because I want you close."
She hesitates for a second, giving me an inquisitive look, then stands, adjusts her sweater, and moves behind me. I feel her presence at my back, and I'm thankful for her being near me. I'm thankful for so many things about her now, especially since I thought I'd lost her.
The minutes stretch out, and finally I hear footsteps in the hallway. Heavy steps, multiple people.
Then the door swings open, and my father walks in.
Nicolae Ionescu is a monument of a man, even at his age. Broad shoulders, silver hair slicked back, a tailored charcoal suit that he's never not in. His face is carved from stone, weathered and hard, his dark eyes sharp and calculating.
He's built from living through the oppression and hard times in Romania, and he moves like he owns the world, like every room he enters bends to accommodate him.
Behind him come his personal squad, three armed bodyguards that are his most loyal, to a fault. Men that go everywhere he does. They fan out slightly, hands resting near their holsters.
And then my brothers come in next.
Lucian enters first, his face stern and focused. Victor follows, his jaw tight, his usual smirk nowhere to be found, and Matei brings up the rear, his fists clenched at his sides.
They all move to my side of the room, standing with and near me.
My father stops in the center of the room, his gaze sweeping over us. Then he sees Elena, who comes out slightly from standing behind me.
For a moment, I expect shock and surprise like everyone else has shown, even if fake, but there's nothing.
He doesn't look shocked that she's alive. He doesn't look guilty, either.
He looks annoyed.
He turns away from us, moving to the bar cart in the corner. He picks up a crystal decanter, pouring himself a generous amount of whiskey. The sound of liquid hitting glass is the only sound in the room.
I step forward.
My left arm throbs in the sling, but I ignore it. I reach down with my right hand, grabbing the bank routing paper from where it's been sitting on the desk. I move it across the table in his direction and point to it.
"We need to talk," I say, my voice stern.
Nicolae doesn't even glance at the paper. He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a slow sip, savoring it.
"Do we now," he says.
I lean forward, pushing into the desk.
"I know about the fifty million," I say. "I know about Lupu. I know about the deal with the Volkovs."
I pause, letting the words hang in the air.
"And I know you paid them to take her," I finish.
Nicolae sets the glass down gently. He finally looks at the paper, glancing at it with mild interest, and then looks up at me.
"And?"
That's it. That's all he says.
"And?" I repeat, my voice rising. "That's all you have to say?"
Nicolae picks up the glass again, swirling the whiskey.
"What do you want me to say, Adrian? That I'm sorry? That I made a mistake?"
He takes another sip, his eyes never leaving mine.
"I did what I had to do. That's what a leader does."
My jaw tightens.
"You had her kidnapped. You had her drugged. You had her sold to the fucking Volkovs."
My father shrugs, the gesture so casual it makes my blood boil.
"She was a distraction," he says simply. "She made you useless to this family. It cost a lot of money to watch your little pity party but I knew if you kept being the way you were, we'd lose a lot more over time.”
"Jesus, Father," Lucian says from behind me. His voice is sharp. "I told you. We all told you. Adrian was fine. He was doing good work for the family."
Nicolae scoffs, waving a dismissive hand.
"Bullshit," he says and slams the glass down so hard I think it had to have cracked.
"You think I don't know what's been happening?" he says, his voice rising now. "You think I don't know about the Irish? The Greeks? The Italians?"
He looks at Lucian, then Victor, then Matei.
"You've been building your own empires in the US behind my back. All of you. Thinking I'm too old, too out of touch to notice."
He turns his gaze back to me.
"And you," he says, his voice dripping with venom. "You were the worst of them. Running around like a lovesick fool, forgetting who you are. Forgetting what this family is."
He walks around the table, standing across from me now.
"I had to do something. I had to save this family."
"Save it?" I say. "You destroyed it."
"I saved it!" he roars. "The fifty million wasn't a loss. It was an investment. An investment in the family legacy. I needed you broken, Adrian, from your soft ways. I needed you to remember what it means to be a killer. What it means to be ruthless."
He steps toward me, his eyes blazing.
"She," he says, pointing at Elena, "was holding you back. Making you soft. Making you weak."
He stops a few feet away from me.
"I did what needed to be done. I took her out of the equation so you could be what this family needs you to be."
The room is silent.
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, and I can feel Elena behind me, her breathing ragged and uneven.
And then I hear her voice.
"How could you do that to your own grandchild?"
My father's head snaps toward her, his expression shifting to one of pure disgust.
Elena steps out from behind me, her eyes watery.
"I was pregnant," she says. "I was carrying your grandchild. And because of what you did, I lost it."
The words feel like they take all the air out of the room.
"She was pregnant?" Victor asks, his voice low and shocked.
"What the fuck," Matei says, shaking his head.
I don't move. I just stare at my father.
Nicolae looks at Elena like she's something he stepped in on the street and shrugs.
"Collateral damage," he says, waving his hand and brushing her off entirely. "The child would have been another distraction. Another anchor dragging him down."
Something inside me snaps. A violent, explosive energy unlike anything I've ever felt before.
I don't think. My body just responds to it.
I reach behind me with my right hand, my fingers supposed to wrap around the grip of my gun.
But I freeze. My hand is empty.
The gun is gone.
My eyes go wide, panic flashing through me as my father's men reach for their weapons.
And then I hear a bang.