Chapter 33
The sun was just rising, casting a brilliant, clear light over the estate as Adrian returned. He bypassed the main atrium, heading straight to the subterranean showers to scrub the scent of gunpowder from his skin. When he walked upstairs, he was impeccably dressed in a dark, tailored suit, projecting the image of a sophisticated billionaire rather than a warlord.
He walked into the sunlit breakfast room. Clara, now a confident fourteen-year-old, was drinking orange juice, while ten-year-old Mia was animatedly telling a story to Catherine.
"Good morning, my beautiful girls," Adrian smiled genuinely, the cold, sociopathic mask vanishing entirely. He kissed both of his daughters on the cheek, his heart swelling with profound devotion.
"You were out late, Dad," Clara noted, her sharp blue eyes—so like his own—studying him carefully. "Is everything okay?"
"Just some corporate restructuring, sweetheart," Adrian replied smoothly, taking a seat at the head of the table. "Nothing for you to worry about."
Catherine caught his eye over her coffee cup, reading the subtle tension in his broad shoulders. She knew the peace had been breached. After the girls were excused for their private tutoring sessions, Catherine approached him. "The southern cartel?" she asked quietly.
May you like
"Dealt with," Adrian confirmed, his voice dropping. "But their brazenness concerns me. I want the security detail around the girls doubled. No off-campus trips without a full escort."
"Understood," Catherine nodded firmly. "We won't take any chances."
