Chapter 4
Adrian
I wake to the sound of the elevator doors closing.
For three seconds, I don't move. Just lie there processing what that sound means.
Someone left.
Someone left me.
The clock on the nightstand reads 9:47 AM. I haven't slept past six in a decade. Even after a night of exceptional sex, my body wakes at 5:45.
Routine. Discipline. Control.
I already know she's gone, but I check anyway because the alternative is impossible.
No one leaves Adrian Nero's bed without permission.
The living room is pristine. The housekeeper doesn't come until noon, which means Seraphina picked up her dress, found her shoes, and let herself out.
Normally, something like this is my dream. Leo is normally helping me force the women I sleep with out of my bed. Sera did that work for me. And I'm pissed about it.
I walk to the window where I fucked her against the glass. Her handprints are still there, small and smudged, overlapped by mine. I press my palm against one, feeling the cool surface. I'll have to tell housekeeping to skip this window.
She fit perfectly under my hands. The right height, the right curves, the right sounds. But it wasn't just the physical fit that kept me up all night. It was the way she looked at me.
Not with fear. Not with calculation. Not with the practiced seduction of women who know exactly what they want from a Nero.
She looked at me like I was just a man.
Just Adrian.
When was the last time someone looked at me like that? Maybe never.
I pull my hand back, leaving a fresh print on the glass.
The bathroom still smells like her. It's something floral. Not expensive perfume, just soap or shampoo. Clean and simple. I find myself standing there longer than necessary, breathing it in before I catch myself and turn on the shower.
I shake the thoughts of her from my mind.
At least I try. My mind continues to drum up images of Sera. Her body. The way that she cried out as I licked her clit.
How her skin felt like silk as she rode my cock.
I nearly take myself in my hands, but I refrain.
This is ridiculous. I don't chase women. They chase me. They leave their numbers, their addresses, their availability. They make it easy because they understand the value of one night with a Nero.
But Seraphina slipped out like last night was just another hookup.
I turn off the water and dress quickly. I need to get my head on straight. Sure, Seraphina was interesting, and the sex was explosive, but I have better things to do than to obsess like a fucking teenager.
The elevator announces Leo's arrival before the doors open.
"You look like shit," he says, stepping into the penthouse.
"Good morning to you too."
"It's nearly noon." He studies me with those sharp eyes that miss nothing. "Rough night?"
His eyes glance at the glass, and I watch as he subtly looks in the bedroom.
"She's gone," I say.
He makes a sound in the back of his throat. He moves forward and stops to bend down and pick something off the floor. "Looks like your midnight princess left a piece of herself behind."
He holds up a small, silver earring. It's slightly bent, delicate. "Want me to get rid of it?" he asks.
"No," I say flatly. "Put it on the table."
Leo's eyes widen in surprise.
"Right." He sets it on the coffee table with careful precision. "So. You want to tell me about her, or should I start guessing?"
"There's nothing to tell. Tale as old as time. Met a girl, fucked her, and she left."
"Adrian." Leo sits in the chair across from me, that infuriating patience in his expression. "I've known you since we were twelve. I can count on one hand the number of times you've slept past six. I can count on one finger the number of times a woman has left your apartment without an escort."
"She's not relevant."
"She's relevant enough that you want to keep her earring."
"I want you to find her."
"Find her." Leo doesn't sound surprised. Doesn't sound anything. "You have a name?"
"Seraphina."
"Last name?"
"No."
"Address?"
"No."
"Phone number?"
"No."
Leo leans back, a slight smile playing at his mouth. "So, you want me to find a woman named Seraphina in a city of eight million people, based on what? Good sex?"
"Based on the fact that she works with rare books.
Probably restoration, given how she talked about manuscripts.
She was at the gala networking for a position, likely at a museum or library.
Mid-twenties. Lives in the city. She was wearing a borrowed dress, so that means that she's likely broke, so probably has roommates, or a second job. "
Leo looks like he wants to argue.
"Seraphina isn't a common name," I say. "Which should help you."
"You're serious?"
"Obviously."
Leo pulls out his phone, already working. "You're right. Her name isn't common. I'll cross-reference with the gala guest list, employment records for rare book specialists, museum staff."
"How long?"
"Could be a day. Could be a week. Depends how deep she's buried."
"Find her faster."
"Adrian." Leo's voice shifts, gets that edge it only gets when he's about to say something I won't want to hear. "What do you want with this girl?"
Good question.
I stand, walk back to the window. The city sprawls below, millions of lives, millions of stories. Somewhere down there, Seraphina is going about her day. Working with her books. Living her life. Thinking last night is over.
"She ran," I say quietly.
"So?"
"So, no one runs from me." I turn to face him.
"Maybe she didn't think you'd care."
"Well, she's going to find out that she shouldn't have run off." I lean back, my eyes looking at the earring. "A little mouse needs to be chased."
Leo sighs, stands. "Your mother won't like it. Random woman, no connections, no strategic value."
"My mother doesn't run my life."
"Your mother runs all our lives." But he's already typing on his phone. "I'll start with employment records. Art history departments, rare book dealers, museums. Give me forty-eight hours."
"Tonight."
"Adrian—"
"Tonight, Leo. I want a name by tonight."
He studies me for a long moment. Then nods. "Fine. But you need to be at the office by two. Morozov meeting about the shipping contracts. And your mother wants you for dinner."
"Cancel it."
"I'm not canceling dinner with Bianca Nero. You can show up or you can deal with her wrath, but I'm not getting in the middle of that."
The elevator doors close behind him, and I'm alone again.
I walk back to the coffee table. Pick up the earring.
It's nothing special. Mass-produced, probably bought at some chain store. But she was wearing it last night. It touched her skin. And she left it behind, which means she left in a hurry.
Which means maybe I affected her more than she wanted to admit.
I close my fist around it.
Somewhere in this city, Seraphina is living her life. Maybe she's thinking about me. Maybe she's not. Maybe she thinks one night with a stranger is all it was.
She's wrong.
I don't know what I want from her yet. Another night? A week? More?
But I'll figure it out once I find her.
And I will find her.
Because I collect rare things. Beautiful things. Things other people overlook because they don't understand their value.
And Seraphina, with her borrowed dress and sharp mind and the way she made me feel like just Adrian for the first time in years, is the rarest thing I've found in a very long time.
My phone buzzes. A text from Leo: Started the search. Checking Metropolitan Museum first, then auction houses. Will update in 4 hours.
I type back: Make it 2.
Then I pocket the earring and head to the office.
Because Leo's right about one thing: Bianca doesn't run my life.
But she will if I don't show up to meetings, prove I'm focused, prove I'm in control.
And right now, the most controlled thing I can do is wait.
Wait, and let Leo work.
And when he finds her, when, not if, I'll show Seraphina exactly what it means to catch my attention.
She wanted to disappear.
Too bad I love a good hunt.
She thinks last night is over.
She's wrong.
I collect rare things. Beautiful things. Things other people overlook because they don't understand their value.
And Seraphina, sweet little Seraphina who works with books and wears borrowed dresses and runs away in the morning light, is the rarest thing I've found in a very long time.