Chapter 17
Adrien
I lie awake, watching Tiffany’s chest rise and fall with each peaceful breath.
The morning sun casts a warm glow across the room, but my thoughts are anything but serene. My mind keeps circling back to Rafael Donovan and the mess Dean left behind.
I grab from my phone the nightstand, and text Diane.
I need everything Marcus can find on Rafael Donovan. Today.
And clean my calendar for the next 24 hours.
I’ll get Marcus on as soon as he comes in. Anything else?
Double the security detail on Tiffany. Discreetly. I don’t want her to feel suffocated, but she needs to be protected at all times. And Sylvia—keep a closer eye on her too.
You, Marcus, and I will map out our strategy today.
I set the phone back on the nightstand, my gaze drifting back to Tiffany. She looks so peaceful, her golden curls spilling across the pillow, her lips slightly parted.
I brush a strand of hair from her face, and Tiffany shifts, her hand reaching out for me. Her eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep, and she gives me a soft, drowsy smile. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I murmur, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. Her hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers as she stretches lazily. “How did you sleep?”
“Mmm, like a baby. Your bed is dangerously comfortable. I might never want to leave.”
I brush a strand of golden hair from her face, my fingers lingering against her cheek. “Who says I’d let you leave?”
Tiffany’s smile widens, her blue eyes sparkling. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Definitely a promise.”
Her laughter is soft and melodic. “I like the sound of that.”
“Then move in with me.” The words slip out before I can fully process them. But as soon as they’re out, I realize how right they feel.
Tiffany’s eyes widen. She sits up, the sheets pooling around her waist. “What?”
“Move in with me,” I repeat, my voice steady. “I want you here. With me. Every day, every night. I want to wake up and fall asleep with you in my arms. I want to share this life with you—the good, the bad, all of it.”
She blinks, her lips parting as if she’s about to speak but can’t find the words. Her hand reaches out, her fingers brushing against mine tentatively, as if she’s testing the reality of the moment.
“Adrien…” she whispers. “You’re not just saying that because of everything that’s going on, are you? Because of the danger?”
I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing over her cheeks. “No. This isn’t about the danger. This is about you. About us. I’ve spent my life pushing people away, keeping everyone at arm’s length because I thought it was easier. Safer. Lonely. But I’ve met my match in you, Tiffany. You’ve made me see that I don’t have to face the world alone. That I don’t want to. I want you by my side.”
Her breath hitches, and she leans into my touch, her eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation. There is none. Only truth.
“I’ve never been good at this—at letting people in. But with you, it’s different. You’re different. And I don’t want to waste another day pretending I don’t need you in my life. So yes, I’m asking you to move in with me. Not because I’m afraid of losing you, but because I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
“Okay,” she says. Her voice is soft but steady, and it takes a moment for her words to sink in. When they do, a warmth spreads through my chest.
“Okay?”
She smiles. “Yes, Adrien. I’ll move in with you.”
I pull her into my arms, holding her tightly against me. Her warmth, her scent, the way she fits perfectly against me—it’s everything.
“You won’t regret this,” I murmur into her hair. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“I know you will.”
I press a kiss on her forehead. “Good. We’ll start moving your things today. I’ll have Luis arrange everything. You won’t have to lift a finger.”
Tiffany laughs softly, shaking her head. “You don’t have to go all out, you know. I can handle packing a few boxes.”
“I want to. Let me take care of you.”
Her fingers trace my jawline, her touch is feather-light but electric. “You’re going to spoil me.”
“You deserve it.” I capture her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “And more. But for now, let’s start with breakfast. I’ll whip us up something while you shower.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You? Cook? I didn’t know you even knew how to boil water.”
I smirk, leaning in to brush my lips against hers. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet, Tiffany. But don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to find out.”
The kitchen smells of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee as I flip the pancakes. Tiffany pads into the kitchen, her damp curls framing her face, and she’s wrapped in one of my oversized shirts that hangs just past her thighs. The sight of her like this—soft, relaxed, and so utterly mine—sends a surge of warmth through me.
“Smells amazing.” She slides onto a stool at the island counter. Her eyes scan the spread—golden pancakes, crispy bacon, and a bowl of fresh berries. “When did you become a professional cook?”
“I have hidden talents,” I reply, setting the plate in front of her. “Besides, I couldn’t have you thinking I’m entirely useless in the kitchen.”
She grins, picking up her fork. “Consider me impressed.”
I pour her a cup of black coffee, no sugar—just the way she likes it—and slide it across the counter. She takes a sip, her eyes closing briefly in appreciation. “Perfect.”
The easy banter between us feels natural and comfortable like we’ve done this a thousand times before. It’s also not something I’m used to. Most mornings are solitary, quiet affairs. But with Tiffany here, the kitchen feels alive, filled with a warmth I didn’t realize was missing until now.
As we eat, the morning light filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the kitchen. The easy silence between us is comfortable, filled with the kind of intimacy that comes from shared moments like this.
She takes a bite of pancake, her eyes lighting up. “Okay, you’re officially banned from hiding your skills. These are incredible.”
I chuckle, leaning against the counter with my own coffee in hand. “Consider it a perk of moving in with me.”
She laughs. “What’s on the agenda for today? Other than packing up my entire life and moving it here?”
“First, breakfast. Then, Luis will handle the logistics of moving your things. You won’t need to lift a finger unless you want to.”
“Control freak.”
“Guilty,” I admit without hesitation. “But only when it comes to you.”
Her cheeks flush slightly at that, and she ducks her head, focusing on her plate. It’s a rare sight—Tiffany Carter, momentarily speechless. I find it endlessly endearing.
“After that,” I continue, setting my mug down. “I have a meeting with my team in an hour. Do you want to come with me?”
“I wanted to drop by the Millhouse Gallery and talk to Olivia. I should tell her about Lucas and... well, you.”
“You want to tell her about me?” I can’t help the smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. “Should I be worried?”
Tiffany rolls her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, Leroy. But yes, she deserves to know. I don’t want to keep her in the dark anymore. Plus, she’s suspicious enough as it is. If I don’t tell her, she’ll probably start her own investigation.”
“How much are you going to tell her?”
She hesitates, swirling her fork absently in the syrup pooling on her plate. “Enough,” she says finally. “I’ll tell her about us, about the trouble Dean was involved in, and that we’re working to set things right. But I’ll keep the details vague—for her safety, and ours. She doesn’t need to know everything. Not yet.”
I nod. Olivia is sharp, and her protective instincts for Tiffany are as fierce as mine. But the less she knows about the darker aspects of Dean’s dealings, the better. “Fair enough. Just be careful with what you share. The fewer people who know the full picture, the safer we all are,” I say, pulling out my phone to text Luis. “Luis accompany you to the gallery.”
Tiffany looks like she wants to protest but then thinks better of it. “Alright. I suppose extra security isn’t a bad idea, given the circumstances.”
“I’ll feel better knowing you’re protected.” I push off the counter, moving to stand behind her.
“You trust Luis a whole lot for someone who’s technically your employee.”
“Luis isn’t just an employee,” I reply, my fingers absently tracing the line of her spine. “He’s my godfather and one of the few people I’d trust with my life—and yours.”
“Your godfather?”
“Luis has been around since I was a kid. He worked for my father and took me under his wing after my father’s death. He’s family, in every way that matters.”
Tiffany nods thoughtfully. “That explains why he’s so protective. And why he always gives me that look, like he’s assessing if I’m good enough for you.”
“He’s just looking out for me—and for you, too,” I say, brushing a damp curl away from her face. “He’s seen me at my worst, Tiffany. He knows better than anyone how much you’ve changed me. If anything, he’s probably just making sure I’m worthy of you.”
“Well, now that I know who he is, I’ll make sure to win him over and reveal all your secrets—maybe even coax him into sharing your childhood photos. I bet you were an adorable little troublemaker. I can only imagine the stories Luis could tell.”
I groan. “Don’t encourage him. He’s been waiting for an excuse to embarrass me for years.”
“Your sister probably got a treasure trove of stories too. I’ll need her number. Between her and Luis, I’ll have enough blackmail material to last a lifetime.”
I stiffen at the mention of Sylvia, recalling our conversation from the other day. “Sylvia isn’t allowed to contact you after Italy. She knows better than to meddle in my relationship.”
Tiffany arches an eyebrow. “Just how deep in trouble did Sylvia get for helping me run away?”
“I may have arranged for her to stay with a family friend for a while. It’s to keep her from causing more trouble.”
“Adrien,” she chides. “You can’t just ship your sister off whenever she does something you don’t like.”
“I know, I know.” I run a hand through my hair. “It’s just... Sylvia has a knack for getting herself into dangerous situations. And in light of recent events, I thought it would be safer for her to be away from all of this.”
“I get that you’re trying to look out for her, but she’s an adult. She should have a say in her own life.”
“You’re right,” I admit. “I’ll call her later today and talk to her about coming back, if that’s what she wants.”
Tiffany nods, seemingly satisfied with my response. “Good. And Daniel?”
“Let’s just say he’s no longer my employee. But don’t worry about it. We have more pressing matters to deal with.”
She frowns. “I don’t want to cause any issues in your friendships because of me, Adrien. What happened with Daniel...”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. Daniel made his own choices.”
It’s not as if I despise him for it. I should have let go of her before it got to that point. It’s simply a matter of principle; he went behind my back, even though he was doing it with good intentions.
“I still feel bad about it. Daniel lost his job and his friend because he was doing me a favor.”
I shake my head. “Daniel’s actions put you in danger. He may have had good intentions, but it’s something I can’t overlook Trust and loyalty are everything.”
“I understand the need for loyalty in your line of work. But don’t you think there’s room for forgiveness too? Daniel was trying to help me, even if he went about it the wrong way.”
“It’s not that simple, Tiffany. Actions have consequences. Daniel knew the risks when he made his choice.”
“But he’s your friend,” she persists. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“Of course it does. But I can’t let personal feelings interfere with business decisions. If I start making exceptions, it sets a dangerous precedent.”
“I worry that this lifestyle, always having to be so guarded and unforgiving... it must be lonely.”
“You’re not wrong. It can be lonely. But it’s necessary to protect myself and those I care about.”
Tiffany reaches out, cupping my face in her hands. “I understand that, Adrien. I do. But maybe there’s a middle ground? A way to maintain your boundaries without shutting people out?”
I lean into her touch, closing my eyes for a moment. When I open them again, I’m met with Tiffany’s earnest gaze. “I’ll... I’ll think about it. About Daniel.”
Tiffany smiles. “That’s all I ask.”