The city blurred into streaks of light as Dominic's black car cut through the rain-slick streets. Adair sat beside him, her hand clutching the strap of her bag, her pulse still echoing with the chaos they'd left behind.
He hadn't spoken much since they left the penthouse—his jaw clenched, his hands tight on the wheel. But the silence between them wasn't empty; it pulsed with everything unsaid.
"Where are we going?" she asked at last, her voice breaking the heavy quiet.
"Safe house," he muttered, eyes never leaving the road. "No one knows about it."
Adair studied him, the hard set of his profile, the way his shoulders carried tension like armor. For all his control, she could see the cracks—the storm in him he refused to show the world.
Hours later, they pulled into a dimly lit warehouse on the edge of the city. Inside, the world shifted—metal walls, a single cot, weapons lined like silent sentinels against the far wall. It wasn't a home, but it was survival.
Dominic locked the door, checked the shadows twice, then finally let his shoulders drop. When he turned, his eyes found hers instantly, and for once, he didn't look away.
"You shouldn't be here," he said quietly. But his voice lacked conviction.
Adair set her bag down, stepping closer. "And yet, here I am. You can't keep pushing me out every time the world closes in."
His gaze darkened, torn between fury and longing. "You don't understand what it means to love me, Adair. It means blood. It means enemies at your door. It means never being safe again."
She reached for him, her hand brushing against his chest, over the frantic beat of his heart. "Maybe love was never meant to be safe."
Something inside him broke then—his walls, his restraint, all of it crumbling beneath the weight of her truth. His hand cupped her face, rough and trembling, and then his mouth was on hers, desperate and consuming.
The kiss wasn't polished—it was fire, raw and aching, the kind that left nothing untouched. His hands tangled in her hair, hers clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer as if distance itself were the enemy.
When they broke apart, breathless, Dominic pressed his forehead to hers. "If I lose you," he whispered, voice raw, "I lose everything. Do you understand that? You are the only thing left that isn't tainted."
Adair's throat tightened, tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "Then stop trying to protect me by pushing me away. Let me burn with you, Dominic. I'd rather be in the fire than watch from the ashes."
For a long moment, he said nothing. Just held her as though letting go would mean surrendering to a world that wanted to tear him apart.
Outside, the night pressed in, danger circling closer. But inside that dim warehouse, the fire between them burned brighter than the darkness.