Chapter 20 - Athena
Adrian has been acting incredibly weird this whole week. It started with me thinking he was just stressed. But now, whatever is going on with him, that stress seems to have tripled. He’s distant, unfocused, distracted, and miserable.
It’s frustrating as hell when I talk to him, and he seems to be a million miles away. But getting upset with him isn’t going to help anything.
Besides, I don’t want to add to whatever pressure he’s under. If I look back at every time I was struggling since I met him, he has shown me endless patience, given me space when I needed it, and given me attention when I needed it.
So, whatever he needs—I am going to give him.
It’s early in the morning, and I expected to be up before him, but he’s already dressed and in his office working.
Instead of going straight to him, I head down to the kitchen first.
I make a big mug of coffee, dark and sugarless, just how he likes it, and a plate piled high with crispy bacon.
Sometimes the way to a man’s heart is simpler than you think. Bacon and coffee.
Upstairs, I knock lightly on his office door, but he doesn’t notice.
“Adrian?” I say his name gently.
He doesn’t look up but grunts softly. “Mm?” he says, typing at the keyboard and squinting at the screen.
“I thought you might need some breakfast?”
Finally, he looks up, managing to appear surprised to see me.
“Athena?” he says, a tired smile curving his lips. “What’s this?”
“Bacon and coffee,” I grin, walking in and setting it down in front of him, then stepping closer and snuggling against his side.
He doesn’t hesitate to put his arm around me and pull me close.
“Did you sleep well, kitten?” he asks, looking up at me and touching my cheek.
“I did. Did you sleep at all? You’re still wearing the same clothes?”
I know my brows, wanting to lecture him and tell him I’m worried, but deciding against it.
“I had some work to do. I guess I got caught up and didn’t notice the time,” he sighs.
He looks drained and stressed.
“Well, why don’t you have some bacon, drink that coffee, and I’ll run you a hot bath. I’ll throw in some magnesium salts or mustard salt. It’ll help you relax. Then you can catch a few hours’ sleep?”
“It sounds lovely but…”
“It wasn’t a request. It was a command from your wife,” I grin playfully.
He chuckles. “Well, a command… from my wife. I certainly can’t argue then, can I?”
I shake my head adamantly. “Nope. No arguing,” I smile.
“Alright, I’ll soak in the salts, but I don’t think I have time to sleep,” he sighs.
Twenty minutes later, I have Adrian lying in the bath.
His gorgeous, tanned body, etched with tattoos and scars, sculpted with muscles and strength, is soaking in the golden, strained water of a mustard bath.
I’m sitting behind his head outside the bath, rubbing the tension from his shoulders and neck.
He groans in pleasure with his eyes closed.
While my hands knead away his stress, my eyes enjoy the gorgeous view in front of me.
Dammit, this man is fucking beautiful. It’s insane how one person can be this incredible to look at.
“You’re very good at that,” he mutters.
“I’m good at other things too,” I muse, biting my lip and feeling mischievous.
“Mm? What other things?” he asks.
“Things you will only find out if you decide to come and lie with me in bed for half an hour.”
“Dammit, woman, you are an exceptional negotiator,” he huffs.
I watch as his cock begins to stir and grow harder.
To tease him, I run my hand down his chest and brush my fingers lightly over his monstrous member. He groans again and lifts his head to try to kiss me.
But I pull away, grinning cheekily.
“Mmmm. You know the deal,” I smirk.
Adrian is fast asleep with his head resting on my breasts.
He did come to bed with me after his bath. And I relaxed him in exactly the way he needed, so effectively that when he closed his eyes for five minutes, he fell asleep right away. It’s been over forty minutes now, and I don’t dare move in case I wake him. He so badly needs rest.
I gently rest my hand on his back, feeling the heat spill between our skin.
Despite everything that I know about him, everything that my father told me, everything that Adrian admitted himself… I know he’s a good man. He is honest with me. He doesn’t lie to me when I confront him about things. That means a lot to me after life with my father.
Adrian has a beautiful heart. And I… I can’t help that I’m falling for that gentle side of him. I grin as another thought flickers through my mind. I guess I’m falling for the dangerous side of him, too. The possessiveness, the commanding tone he uses on me when he gives me sexy instructions.
I sigh softly, and his head rises and falls with my breath.
I wish I could take away whatever’s burdening him.
From somewhere beneath the tangled sheets, his phone begins to ring. The last thing I want is to wake him now, so I fumble around in a rush, hurriedly trying to find it without moving too much. I grab the phone and press the button on the side it silences it.
Adrian is so fast asleep that he didn’t hear a thing. Thank goodness.
My eyes trace over his screen.
It’s a notification from Antonio.
Ricardo Mendelez death investigation. Latest news.
It’s as though the ground has disappeared from beneath me and I’m falling.
My lungs forget how to breathe. My mouth goes so dry I can’t swallow. I stare at the notification until the screen automatically switches off. I am totally shocked. Absolutely stunned into a numb sense of disbelief.
I click the side of the phone to bring the light back, but the notification is clear, and the phone is locked. Panic shoots through me. I must have imagined it. I must have read it wrong. I must have misread the name or…
I press the button again and again, but the phone keeps reminding me that it’s locked.
My heart is racing, and my body is shaking uncontrollably. Suddenly, the blankets are itchy on my skin. His body is too hot against mine.
I have to move. I have to escape whatever is holding me down.
I hold my breath and wiggle out from beneath him. He’s so exhausted he doesn’t even stir.
Standing naked next to the bed with his phone in my hand, I can’t stop shaking.
He knew about this.
This isn’t real, you read it wrong.
He has been investigating it. When did it happen?
It didn’t happen.
I look down at his phone in my hand and have to read the message again. I have to know.
My stomach churns when I gently lift his hand. Anxiety spikes through me, scared I’ll wake him. But again, he is sleeping too deeply.
I press his finger against the screen, and the phone unlocks.
My heart staggers and misfires as I step back, telling myself to breathe.
My finger swipes down from the top of the screen. He gave me the same phone model as he has, which makes it easy to navigate.
His lists of chats stare back at me. I click on Antonio’s name.
Scrolling slowly, I scan the messages that have gone back and forth over the last few days.
My father is dead.
His body was found in an alleyway.
Badly beaten. Horrific.
Confirmed.
Murdered in cold blood.
I start reading a message that looks like a police report detailing what happened to him, and I want to vomit. In a rush, I click back, not letting myself finish the sentence.
His list of WhatsApp conversations stares at me again, and I flick through it, not knowing what I’m looking for until I see my father’s name.
My heart stops.
My hands hover over the chat. In some ways, I don’t want to click on it.
But I do.
A conversation from the day before my father was killed. Back and forth. Confirming a meeting between Adrian and him. Adrian is short with him. Almost rude. Insisting that this is his last chance and no bullshit will be tolerated.
How could he keep this from me! My father has been dead for a week. Adrian knew the same day it happened, and he kept it from me!
I take a step away from the bed. My legs are like jelly, weak, wanting to collapse beneath me.
My father is dead.
Suddenly, his phone is a lead weight in my hand. It’s hurting my skin, and I throw it onto the bed, backing further away from Adrian and the phone…the phone that has all the information about my father’s horrible death.
Spinning on my heel, I run from the room, unable to bear it another second.
In my own room, I throw on some clothes. Jeans. A t-shirt. A hoodie. My sneakers.
I grab an overnight bag and start shoving things into it without thinking or planning. I need to leave.
I grab the bag, stuffed full, and spin to leave my room, but…
I stop.
Because I don’t know where to go.
My father is dead.
I have no family.
I have no one.
Reaching behind myself, I pull my phone from my back pocket and stare at it.
My hands are still shaking when I dial a number.
My heart is still sitting in the pit of my stomach when I press the phone to my ear and listen to it ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Athena. I need help. I didn’t know who else to call,” I say quietly, my voice sounding like it belongs to someone else.