Chapter 7 - THE NIGHT HE ASKED HER TO STAY
At 2:00 A.M., Adrian found me in his private library.
I was barefoot.
Wearing his white dress shirt over my ruined evening gown.
My suitcase waited upstairs.
The evening had been a disaster.
Victor's wife had publicly accused me of marrying Adrian for money.
A council member had suggested I was nothing more than a hired companion.
And Adrian, furious, had ordered everyone out.
Including me.
He hadn't meant to hurt me.
But he had.
Now he sat in his wheelchair near the fireplace.
I stood beside the window.
He looked up.
“Claire.”
I said nothing.
He noticed the suitcase tag hanging from my wrist.
His expression changed.
“Are you leaving?”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
A long silence followed.
Then he asked quietly:
“Do you believe a paralyzed man can still desire a woman?”
I turned.
My heart pounded.
“Adrian.”
He looked at me.
“Answer me.”
I swallowed.
“Of course.”
His jaw tightened.
“Then why do you look at me like you're afraid to stay?”
I stared.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I whispered:
“I'm not afraid of your wheelchair.”
His eyes changed.
I continued.
“I'm afraid of falling in love with someone who thinks he has to push me away before I can choose him.”
Adrian went completely still.
The fire cracked behind him.
Then he asked the question that changed everything.
“Claire, if I asked you to stay because I wanted you—not because of the contract—would you?”
My throat tightened.
I looked toward the stairs.
The suitcase.
The life I could return to.
Then back at him.
“Adrian.”
“Yes?”
“Would you let me?”
His eyes filled.
For a moment, the most feared mafia boss in Chicago looked like a man who had forgotten how to hope.
Then he whispered:
“Yes.”
I walked toward him.
Slowly.
Knelt beside his wheelchair.
May you like
And took his hand.
“Then I'm staying.”
