Chapter 2 I Let Her Go

Adrain's POV

The phone slipped out of my hand and hit the floor with a hard thud.

I didn't pick it up. I just stood there, staring at the empty space in front of me as my heart slammed against my chest like it was trying to break out.

She really did it.

Isabella was married.

To him.

Damien Wolfe.

I sank down on the edge of the desk, the sharp edge digging into the back of my legs, but I barely noticed. My mind was spinning too fast. I tried to breathe, but each inhale felt like sucking air through smoke.

"Sir?" Vincent's voice was soft behind me.

I didn't answer.

He stepped into the room, his shoes quiet against the marble floor. He waited, hands behind his back like he always did when he had bad news.

"She signed the contract last week. The wedding was... private."

"How private?" I forced the words out. My voice didn't sound like mine.

"No press. No photos. Just a few witnesses. The Wolfe estate is locked down. No one goes in or out without his permission."

Of course it was.

That bastard didn't just marry her. He took her. Locked her away like something he owned.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. My palms were sweating. My jaw clenched so tight it ached.

"She didn't even say goodbye," I whispered.

Vincent looked away. "You told her to leave. To forget you."

"I didn't tell her to marry him."

Silence.

He didn't need to say it. We both knew what I'd done. I pushed her away. I thought it would protect her. I thought I was being noble, keeping her out of this world of blood and bullets.

But it wasn't noble. It was stupid.

And now she was wearing Wolfe's ring.

I stood up so fast the chair behind the desk tipped and crashed to the ground. Papers flew. A glass of whiskey shattered on the floor.

"I need to see her," I said.

Vincent didn't flinch. "You won't get close."

"I don't care."

He hesitated. "There's something else."

"What?"

He walked to the window and pulled something from his coat. A photo.

I snatched it out of his hand. My chest squeezed as I looked at it.

She was standing in a garden, wearing a pale blue dress. Her hair was down. She looked thinner, quieter. Not like the firecracker I remembered. Not like the girl who used to laugh at midnight and steal sips of my drink just to annoy me.

But her eyes-they still looked the same. A little sad. A little lost.

Behind her, barely in the frame, stood Damien Wolfe. Watching her like a wolf waiting for a weakness.

My stomach turned.

"He's been watching her," Vincent said. "Long before the wedding. Maybe even before she met you."

"What do you mean?"

"We looked into it. Her high school had some security breaches back then. Emails got leaked. Old journals, photos... All quietly stolen. Guess who we traced the IP back to?"

I didn't answer. I already knew.

Damien Wolfe.

"That bastard," I growled.

Vincent nodded once. "He wanted her for a long time. Maybe this marriage was just the end of a very long game."

I slammed my fist into the wall. The pain shot up my arm, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would be enough. I'd let her go, and now she was in the hands of a man who didn't know how to love anything-just own it.

And the worst part? I'd seen it coming.

I remembered the first time I heard Wolfe's name in connection to her. It was almost a year ago. One of his men had asked a quiet question about her at a charity event. I brushed it off. I thought he was just being nosy.

Then the gifts started showing up. Anonymous deliveries. Flowers. Rare books she loved. At first, I thought it was one of my rivals trying to spook me.

Now I knew better.

He was already circling her.

And I let him.

I should've kept her closer. I should've fought harder. Instead, I gave her up like she was nothing.

"You really think he cares about her?" I asked.

Vincent didn't answer right away. Then he said, "I think he wants her. But not in the way you did."

I turned away from the window. The city lights outside blurred through the rage boiling behind my eyes.

"I can't just sit here."

"I know," Vincent said quietly.

I walked across the room and poured myself a drink, even though my hands were still shaking. I knocked it back in one gulp, then stared at the empty glass.

She used to tease me for drinking too fast. Said I had no patience. Maybe she was right.

I never had patience. Especially not when something was mine.

And that's what she was. Maybe not on paper anymore. But my soul still remembered her. My hands still reached for her in the dark. Every part of me screamed her name like it was stitched into my bones.

I couldn't let Damien keep her.

Not when I knew what he was.

Not when I still-

I swallowed the thought before it could finish.

Too late.

The truth was already out, even if I couldn't say it out loud.

I still loved her.

And I hated myself for realizing it now.

"I'm going to get her back," I said.

Vincent sighed. "That might start a war."

"Then so be it."

He didn't try to stop me. He just handed me another file. This one had maps. Photos. Schedules. All the little cracks in Wolfe's perfect fortress.

"You'll only get one shot," he said.

"I only need one."

I went to the safe and pulled out the old box. Inside was a necklace-hers. The one she left in my car the night she said goodbye. I'd kept it hidden like a secret I didn't want to let go of.

I curled my fingers around it now.

"I'm coming for you, Isabella," I whispered.

I didn't care how deep Damien had buried her in his cold, dark world.

I'd pull her out.

Even if it killed me.