Chapter 20
Tiffany
O livia and I spend the rest of the afternoon catching up. It feels like old times—sitting in her sunlit kitchen, sipping tea, and swapping stories. The weight of the world outside seems to melt away for a moment, and I can almost forget the chaos that surrounds us. Almost.
Luis decides that he’s done with the pleasantries after an hour, his patience visibly wearing thin. He leans against the entrance to Olivia’s office, arms crossed, his dark eyes flicking between Olivia and me. “How about we move this party to Adrien’s penthouse?”
Olivia raises an eyebrow at Luis, her teacup poised midair. “Who are you, and why would we do that?”
Luis smirks, unfazed by Olivia’s sharp tone. “My name is Luis. I’m the guy who keeps Tiffany from getting herself into trouble.” He pushes off the doorframe and takes a step into the room, his presence filling the space. “Adrien’s penthouse is the safest place for you both right now. Or would you prefer to take your chances out there?”
She sets her teacup down with a soft clink, her gaze narrowing. “Are you saying we’re not safe here?”
Luis shrugs, but there’s a seriousness in his eyes that belies his casual demeanor. “I’m saying it’s better to be proactive than reactive. Considering the trouble your uncle left behind, I don’t want to take any risks.”
“Well then. Maybe I’ll meet the man who’s been monopolizing my sister’s attention,” she says, her tone half-teasing, half-curious. I feel a blush creep up my neck, but I don’t deny it.
“A little intimidation might do Adrien good,” Luis murmurs under his breath. “Ladies, gather your things. Let’s get moving.”
The ride to Adrien’s penthouse is quiet, the hum of the car’s engine filling the space between us. Olivia sits beside me, her gaze fixed on the city skyline as it flashes by. Her expression is unreadable, but I can sense her thoughts churning. She’s always been the more composed of the two of us, but I know she’s curious—maybe even a little wary—about meeting Adrien.
Luis drives with his usual precision, his eyes occasionally flicking to the rearview mirror as if checking for tails. I don’t say anything, but his vigilance makes my stomach tighten. The world feels heavier now, every shadow carrying a threat I can’t quite see.
When we arrive at Adrien’s building, the doorman greets us with a nod and ushers us inside. The elevator ride to the penthouse is swift, the glass walls offering a dizzying view of Empire Heights. Olivia doesn’t comment on the opulence, but I catch her taking in every detail—the polished metal, the soft lighting, the faint scent of leather and cologne that lingers in the air.
The apartment is empty when we step inside, the vast space eerily quiet. The floor-to-ceiling windows flood the room with natural light, casting long shadows across the sleek, modern furniture. Olivia walks to the center of the room and turns in a slow circle, taking it all in.
“I’ll order us some lunch,” I say. “What do you feel like? Adrien keeps the kitchen well-stocked, but we can have something delivered.”
Olivia’s gaze lingers on a large abstract painting adorning one wall, her brow furrowed in thought. “Anything’s fine,” she says absently. “Though I’d kill for a Caesar salad right now. You know, something light.”
I nod, pulling out my phone to place the order. “Caesar salad it is. Luis?”
“I’ll take a steak. Rare. And fries. Lots of fries,” he says, moving toward the door. “I’ll be back for food, but I need to check the cameras. Can’t be too careful.”
I chuckle softly as I tap in the order. “Got it. Adrien should be back soon. He’s wrapping up his last meeting.”
As Luis disappears down the hallway, Olivia finally turns to me. “So, this is where he lives. It’s... impressive. A bit cold, though. Doesn’t feel very lived in.”
I shrug. “Adrien’s not here much. He’s always working or traveling.”
“What’s he like?”
I hesitate. How do you describe someone like Adrien? He’s a paradox—ruthless yet protective, distant yet magnetic.
“He’s not what I expected. At first, he seems intimidating—cold, even. But there’s more to him than that. He’s fiercely loyal, especially to the people he cares about. And he’s... determined. Sometimes to a fault.”
“You love him.” It’s a statement, not a question. And she’s right. I do.
“Yes. I do. It’s messy and complicated, and I know it makes little sense to anyone else. But he’s shown me a side of himself that no one else gets to see. Adrien isn’t just the man everyone fears. He’s the man who holds me together when everything feels like it’s falling apart, who listens even when I don’t say anything, who makes me feel like I’m the most important person in the room even when his world is falling apart.”
“You’ve always had a big heart, Tiff. And you’ve always trusted it, even when it led you down paths no one else understood. If he’s earned that trust, then... I’ll try to understand.”
I reach out to squeeze her hand. “Thank you. I gave you such a hard time about Alexander, but I agreed to move in with Adrien within months of knowing him. I guess we’re both guilty of following our hearts, even when it’s not the most logical choice.”
Olivia chuckles. “Touché. Though I think your situation is a bit more... dramatic than mine. Alexander may have his secrets, but he’s not exactly involved in the shadowy dealings Adrien seems to navigate.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the sound of the front door opening cuts me off. Adrien steps inside, his tailored suit impeccable as always, though there’s a faint crease in his brow that betrays his weariness. His sharp blue eyes land on us immediately, and for a moment, he freezes.
“Tiffany,” he says, his voice low and smooth, though there’s a hint of surprise beneath the surface. “And you must be Olivia,” he adds, his gaze shifting to my sister. He steps further into the room, his movements deliberate, and extends a hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Olivia takes his hand, her grip firm, her hazel eyes assessing him with caution. “The pleasure’s mine.”
Adrien’s lips twitch into a faint smile. “I imagine you have questions. I’d be happy to answer them—within reason, of course.”
Olivia tilts her head. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone in your... position.”
The air between them is thick with tension, and I quickly step in, hoping to ease the moment. “Lunch is on its way,” I say, forcing a lightness into my voice. “I ordered you a steak, Adrien. Medium rare, just how you like it.”
His gaze shifts back to me. “Thank you,” he says, his voice quieter now, more intimate. “You always remember the details.”
Olivia clears her throat. “So, Adrien, Tiffany’s told me a bit about you, but I’d like to hear your side of things. What exactly are your intentions with my sister?”
“Olivia,” I protest, my cheeks flushing, but Adrien’s expression is calm and composed, as if he’d been expecting this line of questioning.
He steps closer, his piercing blue eyes locking onto Olivia’s with an intensity that makes even her confident demeanor waver slightly. “I intend to protect Tiffany, support her, and ensure she has the freedom to pursue what matters most to her. I won’t pretend I’m a perfect man or that my past is spotless. But I care deeply for your sister, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her happy.”
She folds her arms. “Protect her from what, exactly? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’re the one bringing danger into her life.”
Adrien doesn’t flinch, but his jaw tightens. “There are forces at play that neither of us can control. Forces that were set in motion long before Tiffany and I ever met. My only goal now is to shield her from the fallout of decisions I made in my past.”
“And what happens when your past catches up to you?” Olivia presses. “When it inevitably spills over onto her? Are you prepared for that?”
“Olivia,” I interject. “That’s enough. Adrien’s been honest with me about his past, and I’ve made my choice.”
Her expression softens, but her eyes remain hard, focused on Adrien. “I just want to make sure you’re not walking into something you can’t handle, Tiff. You’re my sister. I have to look out for you.”
“I understand your concern, Olivia. And I respect it. But I need you to understand this: Tiffany isn’t just someone I care for—she’s someone I’d give my life for. My past is complicated, and I know it’s hard to trust me. But I’m doing everything in my power to make sure she never has to face the consequences of that past alone.”
The room falls silent.
Olivia nods. “Alright. But if you hurt her—if she ends up paying the price for your mistakes—I’ll make sure you regret it. And trust me, Adrien, I’m not someone you want as an enemy.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone who cares for Tiffany as much as you do.”
The tension in the room eases when Adrien asks Olivia about her gallery. Five minutes later, Luis comes back with our lunch, and we sit around the dining table, the fragrant aroma of the food and light small talk filling the space.
Olivia and Adrien continue to exchange polite, if slightly guarded, conversation as we eat. I can tell she’s still sizing him up, her sharp gaze occasionally flicking to me as if to gauge my reaction to his words. For his part, Adrien remains composed, answering her questions with a measured calm that only seems to deepen her curiosity.
After lunch, my sister excuses herself, claiming she has some errands to run. She gives me a quick hug and a meaningful look before heading out the door, leaving Adrien and me alone in the quiet aftermath of their first meeting.
Adrien leans back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the closed door. “Your sister is... formidable,” he says with a hint of amusement. “I can see where you get your strength from.”
I smile, picking at the edge of my napkin. “She’s protective. Always has been. She’s just trying to make sure I’m not in over my head.”
He reaches across the table, his hand covering mine, warm and steady. “And are you?”
“Sometimes it feels like I am,” I admit quietly. “But I don’t regret this—us. Not for a second.”
His thumb brushes over my knuckles, a small, reassuring gesture. “Good. Because I meant what I said to her, Tiffany. You’re not just someone I care about—you’re someone I’d do anything for.”
I stand and move around the table. He watches me approach, his gaze unwavering, a quiet intensity burning in his eyes. When I reach him, I place my hands on his shoulders, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath my touch. He tilts his head back slightly, his expression softening as he looks up at me.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“I want to. Every day, I want to prove to you that you’re not just a part of my life—you are my life. Everything I do, every decision I make, is with you in mind. You’ve changed me, Tiffany. In ways I didn’t think were possible.“ As he speaks, his hands gently slide to my waist, drawing me closer until I find myself standing between his legs.
His hands find my waist, gently pulling me closer until I’m standing between his legs. With a serious look in his eyes, he continues, “I have to leave for a few weeks tomorrow.”
My hands freeze on his shoulders. “What? Why?”
“There’s business I need to attend to.”
I swallow hard. “Is it dangerous?”
He hesitates, just for a moment, but it’s enough to make my stomach twist. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
I want to argue, to demand more details, but the look in his eyes stops me. There’s something unspoken in his gaze, a shadow of worry he’s trying to shield me from. Instead of pressing, I lean down, resting my forehead against his. His hands on my waist tighten.
“You’ll come back to me,” I state.
“Always,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin.
He tilts his head, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s both tender and desperate as if he’s already trying to memorize the feel of me. My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close like I can keep him here by sheer will.
When we finally pull apart, he takes my hand and presses a kiss to my palm, his lips lingering for a moment before he meets my gaze again.
“Before I leave, I need to remind you how good we are together. How good you look plastered against me, your breath hitching as I take you apart piece by piece.”
My pulse quickens, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, but I don’t pull away. Instead, I lean into him, my hands sliding down his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.
“Remind me.”