And then, his fist slammed into the cold, concrete wall beside him. The sound cracked through the hallway like a gunshot.
8 Let’s Finish What We Couldn’t
If it had been Theo instead of that wall, he would’ve been dead.
His knuckles split open, blood dripping down his hand in thick rivulets, staining the floor beneath him. His chest heaved with fury, eyes burning, jaw clenched tight, muscles rigid beneath his tailored black shirt. His face twisted in a mix of jealousy and heartbreak.
On the ground floor of the hotel, Theo and Sienna stepped out of the elevator and made their way into the wide lobby.
Theo turned to her. “Thanks for staying up all night to help with that project. Seriously. I mean it.”
Sienna rolled her eyes and slapped his arm. “Stop it already. It wasn’t that big a deal. Just give me a few thousand dollars as a bonus and I’ll be satisfied.”
Theo grinned. “You got it. I’ve got a meeting now though. Want me to drop you home first?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She patted his arm, smiling. “You go ahead. I’ll manage.”
“Alright.” He gave her a lazy wave before heading toward the parking lot.
She watched him disappear, then stepped outside. Pulling out her phone, she stood by the curb to book a cab. She was still scrolling when a strong hand suddenly grabbed her arm.
She looked up in surprise—ready to shout—but the moment her eyes met his, the words caught in her throat.
Adrian.
And he looked furious.
His jaw was tight, eyes dark and storming. Without a word, he pulled her sharply toward his parked black Maserati, opening the passenger door and pushing her inside with more force than necessary.
“Adrian! What the hell are you doing?!”
He didn’t answer. He stormed to the driver’s side, yanked open the door, and slid in. The engine roared to life, and a second later, the car tore off into traffic at a dangerously high speed.
“Adrian!” she gasped, bracing herself as the car swerved violently, her body jolting with every sudden turn. “Slow down! What the hell is wrong with you?!”
The air between them was heavy. His face was stone cold, focused on the road, eyes flashing with an emotion that was raw and wild.
Finally, a car suddenly cut across in front of them. Adrian slammed the brakes hard. The car screeched to a stop with a sharp jerk, the tires screaming against the asphalt.
Sienna twisted toward him. “Have you lost your mind?!” she shouted, her breath coming fast. “Are you mad?!”
“IwishI had gone mad,” he growled, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his veins bulged against his skin. He turned to her, voice rough and guttural. “I really fucking wish I had.”
Sienna froze at the crazed look in his eyes. But then, she caught sight of his bloodied knuckles clenched around the wheel.
“Your hand—” she reached out, her voice softening with concern. “What happened to you? Did something happen last night?”
He didn’t respond. He just stared at her, like she was the only thing tethering him to sanity.
After a moment of silence, she reached over and gently took his injured hand in hers. Her fingers were soft and warm against his bruised, bloodied skin.
“Did you get into a fight? This… this looks bad.”
Something in him cracked.
His rage started to falter. Her fingers were soft, gentle. Her face was twisted with worry, and the concern in her eyes made him soften.
“Do you have—”