Page 78 of His By Contract

“We’re not running.” His words carried the weight of steel. “Vincent wants us scared, wants us to feel powerless. We won’t give him that satisfaction.”

“What can we do?”

“Vincent operates in shadows and whispers. So we’ll drag everything into the light.” Adrian’s fingers tightened on her shoulder. “Every move he makes, every threat, every manipulation—we’ll expose it all. The world will see exactly who Vincent Adler is, and what he’s willing to do to maintain control.”

The conviction in Adrian’s voice spread through Georgia’s chest, transforming her fear into something harder, more focused. She straightened her spine, lifting her chin. “Then we fight.”

They stood together in the shadowed room, the silence between them charged with shared purpose. Georgia felt the shift in her bones: no longer prey, but predator. Vincent had threatened their son, and for that, he would pay.

CHAPTER 24

Georgia pressed her back against the doorframe of Adrian’s office, the solid wood grounding her as tension crackled through the air. Her fingers found a groove in the dark grain, tracing it over and over as she watched Adrian command the room. He towered motionless, cold as winter marble, magnetic in a way that pulled all attention toward him. His security detail fell into formation at his sides, their stance rigid with ingrained military bearing.

The urge to flee warred with her need to stay. She didn’t belong here, in this fortress of power and strategy, yet she couldn’t make herself leave. Not when Theo’s safety hung in the balance.

“Vincent operates through proxies.” Adrian’s voice sliced through the silence, each syllable cut like a blade. “He maintains distance, keeps his hands clean while others execute his will. That’s his weakness—his need for control without consequence. We’ll exploit it.”

A tight knot formed in her chest as Adrian’s plan unfolded. A meeting would be arranged, carefully staged to suggest surrender. They would make Vincent believe Adrian was willingto hand Theo over to the Adler dynasty, to let their son be molded into Vincent’s heir.

Bile rose in Georgia’s throat. The mere thought of Vincent near Theo sent her heart racing, her maternal instincts screaming in protest. But Adrian’s eyes found hers across the room, steady and assured.

“He won’t touch him.” Adrian’s tone brooked no argument. “Vincent won’t get within a hundred feet of our son. This is theater—nothing more. A performance designed to feed his ego until he destroys himself.”

Jim Turner, Adrian’s head of security, stepped forward. He laid out the blueprints across Adrian’s desk with crisp, practiced motions. “We’ve secured a location—private dining room at The Metropolitan Club. Old money, discreet staff, the kind of place Vincent expects for family business. We’ll wire every inch—high-end surveillance, redundant systems. When he gloats, when he reveals his hand, we’ll have it all.”

Georgia’s fingers froze against the doorframe as Adrian’s voice dropped lower, his words cutting clean as a scalpel. “Chief Inspector Langford of Interpol needs to be there. His presence isn’t optional—it’s fundamental.” Adrian’s palm pressed flat on the blueprints. “When Vincent reveals himself, the arrest happens without fanfare. Clean. Quiet. One moment he’s reaching for power, the next he’s in custody.”

Her chest constricted, each breath a battle between terror and determination. The plan unfolded before her like an elegant equation, each variable accounted for, each contingency mapped. Adrian had shaped it with the same ruthless efficiency that defined his every move. But this wasn’t just strategy on paper. This was Theo. Their son.

The weight of what they planned pressed against her ribcage. She wanted to scream, to grab Theo and run until no one could touch him. But running wouldn’t work now.

Adrian’s eyes found hers across the room. That piercing blue softened for just a heartbeat, not offering empty comfort, but acknowledging what this cost her. What they both stood to lose. His certainty radiated across the space between them, steady as granite.

“This ends Vincent,” Adrian said, his voice carrying the weight of absolute conviction. “For Theo.”

Georgia forced air into her lungs, letting Adrian’s unwavering resolve shore up her own. She straightened her spine, drawing strength from the steel in his words. They would see this through. They had to.

Georgia’s heels sank into plush carpeting as she entered The Metropolitan Club’s private sitting room. The room breathed opulence with leather-bound books lining mahogany shelves, crystal decanters catching light from brass sconces. Her fingers brushed against Adrian’s sleeve, seeking an anchor in this fortress of wealth and power.

Adrian’s solid warmth at her side anchored her racing pulse. His shoulders relaxed, his stance open, with every movement crafted to suggest surrender. His hand found the small of her back, the pressure both warning and comfort. Georgia drew in a slow breath, tasting polish and privilege on her tongue.

The double doors swung open.

Vincent Adler filled the doorframe, his silver hair gleaming under the chandeliers. Ice-blue eyes—so like Adrian’s, yet devoid of warmth—swept the room with predatory focus. His tailored suit whispered of European craftsmanship, each stitch and seam flawless. Power radiated from him like frost, beautiful and deadly. Two men flanked him, their faces blank masks of deference.

Georgia’s spine stiffened as Vincent’s gaze settled on Adrian. A smile curved his thin lips, satisfaction glinting in those cold eyes. Here was the architect of their torment, the man who’d tried to claim her son as his pawn.

“Adrian.” Vincent’s voice flowed like aged whiskey, smooth yet burning. “I see you’ve finally embraced reason.” Vincent stalked across the room with predatory grace. He sank into the leather chair like a king claiming his throne, every movement a calculated show of power. Georgia’s throat constricted as those eyes locked onto their target. “Theo deserves his rightful place. The Adler name carries obligations—expectations that must be met.”

Georgia’s nails bit into her palms as Vincent continued, discussing her son’s future as if it were already written in stone. “The boy will have the finest education, of course. Geneva, then perhaps Oxford. We’ll shape him properly, away from… unfortunate influences.” His gaze slid over Georgia like oil. “The legacy must be preserved.”

Rage bloomed hot in Georgia’s chest, but she forced her face to remain neutral. Vincent’s words were blades, testing for weakness. One wrong move would shatter their careful performance. She felt Adrian’s fingers press against her back, steadying her, reminding her to play her part.

Georgia watched Vincent’s calculated performance, each word chosen to cut and claim. His presence filled the room like smoke, choking out resistance. The way he spoke of Theo, as if her son were already his to mold, made her throat tight with fury.

“The Swiss Alps will strengthen his constitution. Children need discipline, structure. The family estate overlooks Lake Geneva. Perfect for building character.”

Adrian inclined his head, a gesture so subtle Georgia might have missed it if she hadn’t learned to read his expressions. His silence invited Vincent to elaborate, to unfurl more of his grand design.

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