Chapter 11 - Rhiannon
"Go, Adrian!" Rhiannon screamed, her whole body brimming with excitement as she jumped up and down.
Down below in the ring, her husband moved with powerful, controlled movements that left her imagining the dreams she'd had about him not so long ago. And what his body could do when it was situated right over hers.
Rhiannon had enough in her spank bank to last a decade, and she only wanted more. She had no idea how, but Adrian had somehow just known that this was her kind of night. From the moment she felt the pulse of the crowd, she knew it was her place. She had trained in martial arts and boxing since she was a little girl, and the blend of watching the fight unfold, combined with knowing how powerful a fighter he was, was almost perfection. Just thinking about the way he had sparred with her only yesterday sent a rush of adrenaline through her.
Rhiannon couldn't fucking wait until they got back to the house tonight. She sipped more from her drink and felt a rush of glee. Maybe she should've slowed down. She was a little tipsy, more than she'd ever allowed herself to be in this type of situation, but she'd been unable to refuse when Adrian's family actually seemed to treat her like an adult and not a child that they had to care for.
Adrian was the same, though. She couldn't help the smile that crept across her face as memories of their last session played back in her mind. The thought of that body—so strong and capable—tangled with hers—even if it was just while they were sparring. It was enough to ignite a fire that was hard to shake. She felt a sense of pride wash over her just knowing the man competing below was hers. Being here among the raucous crowd only magnified that emotion.
The night had turned out better than she ever imagined, and Rhiannon was running on a high unlike any other she'd ever experienced before.
His brothers and their wives had welcomed her with open arms, and their lively conversations made her feel at home in this new family dynamic. Laughter echoed around them as they shared stories, and Rhiannon genuinely enjoyed their company. She felt a warmth growing inside, realizing that within this crew, she had found a sense of camaraderie that was comforting.
As the match continued, Rhiannon had watched the guys interact with one another, playfully teasing and joking around, and a twinge of something unidentifiable settled in her stomach. She'd misjudged Adrian, and while she still didn't agree with how he'd gone along with the proposal or negotiated it in the first place, she could at least acknowledge that she'd misjudged him. Even if it had been manipulative, seeing his family interact was making her reconsider her assumptions about him. They appeared close-knit, loyal, and deeply connected—not what she had expected from the Bratva and nothing like her own family.
Thinking of her family, Rhiannon's happiness started to wear off. At home, things were often rough around the edges and filled with tradition layered with casual cruelty. It was a stark contrast to the warmth she was beginning to feel with Adrian's family, and it left her feeling slightly uncomfortable. Shaking it off, she focused on the room around her again. She refused to let them ruin tonight for her. Not when tonight she felt relaxed for the first time in forever.
Adrian's darkened gazes left her thighs clenching with need, and Rhiannon leaned forward in her seat, cheering for him instinctively as the atmosphere around them charged with electricity. And when he managed to slam a weighted blow on his opponent, knocking him back a few feet, Rhiannon was unable to stop herself from screaming in approval.
"Come on, Adrian! You got this!" Her voice mingled with the crowd's roar, and although she was aware of how it might inflate his ego, it felt amazing to express her support for him in that moment. "Fuck him up!"
Lost in her thoughts, Rhiannon felt elation wash through her, and strangely, in that moment she felt a flicker of the freedom she'd thought was lost. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she belonged—part of something larger than herself. But just as quickly as that feeling rushed in, a creeping sensation of unease began to build within her.
She couldn't shake the feeling that, despite this burgeoning sense of acceptance, she was still in the same position she'd always been in. Walking on eggshells around powerful men who couldn’t see what she could do.
Those thoughts dimmed her excitement a little more, and after a few rounds, she excused herself to head to the restroom. The venue was energetic, but the bright lights and bustling noise began to feel too loud and more than a little oppressive.
Meanwhile, the restroom she hid in was small and a little grungy but thankfully quiet. More importantly, it was so fucking far away from all her obligations and responsibilities that she felt her breaths ease once again.
Thinking about it all from a business perspective, she knew if she removed her feelings from the equation then it really was just a business decision. And how could she blame him for that? That's how things work in their world. She always knew this was normal for other women, but she'd been living along the thought that it wouldn't ever happen to her, and now that it had… well it was just so different when it happened to her. All the memories of the women she'd seen in the same position held a new impact now, things she'd forgotten felt like it was an insult to her as a woman that they were happening to her now. And maybe that was wrong. Maybe she should've realized from the beginning what they were going through, but she'd always assumed it would be different for her.
Rhiannon washed her hands under cool water, staring solemnly at the woman in the mirror. Matte lipstick had smudged slightly at the corners of her mouth, and she wiped it with a shaking finger. She didn't even know why she'd dressed up or put on makeup, but it felt like just another failed attempt at claiming control when she didn't have any at all.
Annoyed with where her thoughts had gone, Rhiannon strode toward the bathroom door only to stop when a chilling touch suddenly pressed against the left side of her neck. Rhiannon knew what a knife felt like.
Working on instinct, she threw herself back at her opponent and kicked him where it would hurt most. Right between the legs. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as her attacker let out a furious grunt that grew into a shout when she balled up her fist and slammed it into his chin.
She knew she had to act fast, but she'd misjudged her attacker, misjudged his strength, and her victory ended abruptly as he slammed his fist into her cheek. She hadn't even seen it coming. The hit stunned her and she dropped to the floor, terror turning her thoughts into static to accompany the buzzing in her ears.
"Fucking bitch," he spat, slamming his boots until her stomach. Rhiannon gagged, barely noticing as he pulled her to her feet. "Should've known you'd be difficult, you stupid Irish cunt."
Fury washed through her, tempered only when the knife bit into the skin of her neck again, cutting deeper. She could feel the blood it drew, dripping down her neck. It felt like a crawling sensation ,not unlike when a bug walked over her skin. All her training disappeared as Rhiannon remembered the last time she'd been at another man's mercy; blurred memories and pure terror filtered through, and she froze.
"Don't you dare fucking move," a low, menacing voice commanded, sending shockwaves of fear coursing through her veins. "I wouldn't mind fucking gutting you right here, pretty, but I've got money on this."
"What money?" she whispered hoarsely.
"Wouldn't you like to know," he taunted, stale breath touching her cheek. "Doesn't really matter though, does it? You'll still be dead soon, anyhow. Maybe I should have fun while I can."
The unexpected threat paralyzed her, alongside the cold sensation that seemed to cut deeper with every passing second. She stood frozen, every instinct shouting for her to react, but knowing that one wrong move could lead to dire consequences.
"Let me go," she replied, her voice staying steady despite her nerves. "My husband will kill you if you don't." And strangely, she believed that.
A laugh echoed behind her. "Not your father, Princess?"
His use of Adrian's nickname stirred anger, distracting her from him mentioning her father. "Don't you dare call me that."
Only he could.
Another laugh answered her.
"Behave, Princess, and we'll see." The words were heavy, laden with an intention that made her stomach twist. He sounded familiar, but the memory slipped through intangible fingers. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest, but she held her ground, hoping something would click into place before they made it to the parking lot.
As she was ushered along, her mind was racing, desperately searching for a way out. Her surroundings blurred into a whirl of noise—a world filled with laughter and chaos, entirely unaware of the terror unfolding just a few feet away. The person guiding her pushed through the crowd, and she could feel the rough grip on her arm, the intensity of his hold serving to heighten her senses. The thought of Adrian waiting for her danced through her mind, and she wondered idly if he'd even care should anything happen to her.
Once they crossed into the dimly lit parking lot, her heart thudded with the understanding that this was it—now or never. She had to find a way to escape this situation, but just as she gathered her thoughts, she felt a sudden shift. In a heartbeat, before she could make her move, the guy stumbled backward and crumpled to the ground as a gunshot rang out like a thunderclap in the night.
Adrian stepped into view, a warrior's fierceness in his stormy gaze. Relief and gratitude surged through her as she exhaled the breath she had been holding, but it was laced with lingering fear. "Adrian," she whispered, moving toward him.
"Are you okay?" he demanded, his voice lower and rougher than she had ever heard it, and silent tears fell down her cheeks that she refused to acknowledge.
"I—I'm fine," she stammered, her heart racing as adrenaline surged through her veins, leaving her shaken. The sight of him filled her with warmth and safety, sending a flood of gratitude through her.
Concern lingered behind those stormy eyes, a protective intensity that threatened to boil over. "Come here."
Rhiannon moved without thinking, walking on shaky legs until she reached his side and Adrian grasped her by the jaw, checking the wound with stormy eyes. "I'm regretting killing that fucker so quickly," he growled, his words reigniting the fire she'd been feeling earlier. Rhiannon almost wanted to ask him what he'd do to the man.
Swallowing those words, Rhiannon promised herself she would never again take for granted that feeling of safety and connection she felt with him. He'd said himself he'd never take an unwilling woman, and even though they'd been sharing a bedroom all this time, he hadn't made a single move toward her.
She glanced up at Adrian, his face still set in a fierce expression, the tension humming in the air around them. Yet, even amidst the chaos, there was an undeniable connection that drew her to him.
His finger dragging across the line of her jaw, Adrian turned to look into her eyes, his stormy gaze searching her face with an intensity that made her heart race. "Promise you're fine, Princess?" His voice was low, laced with concern, as he studied her eyes for any hint of distress. She caught a fleeting glimpse of possessiveness behind his fierce exterior, and it made her feel cherished, wrapped in warmth amidst the lingering fear.
"I am," she replied, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. "Thanks to you."
His grip tightened slightly as he leaned in closer, his forehead almost touching hers. The world around them faded into insignificance, and for the first time that night, she felt a deep sense of tranquility settle within her.
"I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you," he murmured, and there was a rawness to his words that resonated with her soul.
Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips with his in a gentle kiss that had Rhiannon melting into him, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck, deepening their connection as they surrendered to the moment.
His body was taut with tension, every muscle coiled beneath her fingertips, yet there was an undeniable softness in the way he kissed her. And when they pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, the air crackled with unspoken words. Rhiannon searched his gaze, surrendering to the emotions swirling within her.
"Adrian…" she started, but he silenced her with a gentle touch on her lips.
"Later," he answered her with another soft kiss before he tore himself away.