DAMIAN'S POV
The knock echoed through the room like a warning. Not loud enough to be a threat—just sharp enough to promise trouble.
Emma's breath locked in her chest as Adrian moved toward the door. His shoulders had shifted, tense and rigid, transforming his calm presence into something colder… more guarded. She had never seen him switch so fast. One moment he had been soft and open, forehead resting against hers; the next, he felt like a wall—tall, impenetrable, protective.
"Adrian," she whispered, barely audible.
He lifted a hand slightly behind him, a silent signal: Stay still.
Another knock resounded—three hard, deliberate taps.
"Who is that?" she asked again, quieter this time.
He didn't answer.
Didn't look back.
Didn't breathe.
Emma's heart hammered against her ribs.
The tension stretched thin and tight as wire before he finally spoke—voice low, clipped.
"If anything feels off, step back. Understood?"
She nodded even though he wasn't looking at her.
