Under My Protection
Celeste sat on the edge of their bed, her eyes fixed on the fresh bandages wrapped around Adrian's arm. His wounds had reopened during the fight, and though the stitches were redone, she could tell the pain still lingered in his sharp breaths and clenched jaw.
"You should be lying down," she said softly, brushing her fingers over the gauze.
Adrian tilted his head, his lips curling into a lazy grin. "How can I rest when my beautiful wife won't stop fussing over me like some worried angel?"
Her cheeks flushed. "I'm not fussing. I'm just—" she faltered, biting her lip. "You could've died, Adrian."
His grin faded. He took her hand, his touch warm and gentle. "But I didn't. I made it back to you, didn't I?"
Celeste looked down at their entwined fingers. Somehow, it already felt like the space between them was closing. "Still. You scared me."
"I'm sorry for that," he said, voice low. "But I'd do it all over again if it means keeping you safe."
A beat of silence stretched between them.
Then Adrian tugged her gently down, guiding her to sit beside him on the bed. She hesitated, but didn't resist. His arm looped around her waist, pulling her close.
"You're moving back in with me," he said matter-of-factly.
Celeste blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I'm not letting you stay anywhere else. You're safest here—with me."
She arched a brow. "Just like that? You're deciding for me now?"
Adrian leaned in, his voice dropping an octave. "Not deciding. Begging. Stay, Celeste. Not just for safety, but... because I want you here. I need you here."
Her heart fluttered at the honesty in his voice.
"You're really not playing fair," she whispered.
He smirked. "I'm not trying to."
She looked away, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips, but Adrian caught it anyway.
"Is that a smile I see, Mrs. Sinclair?" he teased.
"I never said I'd stay," she murmured, though her voice lacked conviction.
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze soft. "But you will. Because deep down, you know you wanted it too."
Celeste's chest ached—not from pain, but something warm. Hopeful.
Before she could respond, he leaned forward just enough to make her heart skip. His breath fanned against her lips, their foreheads nearly touching.
But just as their lips almost met, Adrian winced.
"Shit," he muttered, clutching his injured arm.
Celeste gasped and instinctively pulled back. "Adrian!"
He laughed weakly. "Okay, maybe not my smoothest move."
She blushed furiously, gently helping him recline. "You idiot. You're not even fully healed."
"But you were about to kiss me," he said, smug despite the pain.
"I was not!"
"You totally were."
"Go to sleep, Sinclair."
He grinned as she tucked the blanket over him, her cheeks still pink.
—
Later that afternoon, Ethan dropped by while Celeste was out with Mia.
Adrian glanced up from the couch as his best friend walked in. "What did you find?"
Ethan tossed a folder on the coffee table. "The guy who broke into Celeste's apartment? Repeat offender. But get this—someone wired a big amount to his account days before the break-in."
Adrian's jaw clenched. "Someone hired him."
"Exactly. And here's where it gets weird—he's never taken gigs like this before. It was targeted."
Adrian sat forward, brows drawn. "Any clue who sent him?"
"Not yet. But..." Ethan hesitated. "Do you think it could be Emily?"
Adrian went still.
"She did see you two getting close again," Ethan added. "And she's not exactly the picture of stability these days."
Adrian exhaled, rubbing his temples. "I don't want to believe that. She's... complicated, yes. But hiring someone to hurt Celeste? That feels like a stretch."
"You said it yourself. She has power, connections. And she's getting desperate."
"I'm not ruling it out," Adrian admitted. "But I need proof."
Just then, the front door opened and Celeste's laughter floated in.
"We're back!" she called.
Ethan quickly shoved the folder under a magazine.
Celeste entered with Mia, both holding coffee cups. "Why do you two look guilty?"
Ethan grinned. "Because we are."
Celeste raised an eyebrow. "What did I miss?"
Adrian slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Nothing important. Just top-secret guy stuff."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but Adrian leaned down to whisper, "You look cute when you're suspicious."
Her heart skipped. "Flatterer."
"Truth teller."
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'm officially out before you two start making out in front of me."
Mia smirked, sipping her coffee. "I give them five minutes."
Celeste flushed, swatting Adrian's chest playfully. "Stop it."
He chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of it.
—
The next morning, Celeste wandered downstairs in an oversized shirt, only to freeze at the sight of three men in black suits.
"What the hell?" she blurted.
Adrian looked up from his laptop. "Good morning, sweetheart. Meet your new bodyguards."
Her mouth fell open. "You hired bodyguards?"
Adrian stood and walked over. You're under 24/7 protection now. I'm not taking any chances."
"Adrian—"
"No. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you again," he said, firm but gentle. "So let me protect you, even if it means having three overgrown watchdogs in black suits."
Celeste sighed, rubbing her temples. "Do they follow me everywhere?"
One of them answered stoically, "Except the bathroom, ma'am."
She groaned. "Great."
Adrian leaned in with a teasing glint. "I can fill in for that, if you'd like."
She choked, smacking his arm. "You're incorrigible."
He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "But you're mine again, aren't you?"
Celeste stared at him, her heart thudding in her chest.
She didn't say yes.
She didn't need to.
Because the way she smiled back, soft and sure, told him everything he needed to know.
They were finding their way back—one laugh, one stolen glance, one soft moment at a time.
And neither of them planned to let go.