Chapter 13

The warehouse smelled like oil and dust and sweat. Adam was a bit annoyed he was kicked out of iris's apartment so she can go to work 

Adam stepped through the side entrance, his coat catching on a jagged bit of metal before he pulled free. His boots echoed down the concrete hall like warning shots. A low buzz of chatter filtered from the far room—half-work, half-nonsense, as always.

He wasn't in the mood.

Not today.

Tony trailed a few steps behind him, talking more to himself than to Adam.

"So… hangover girl seemed better this morning. Little shaky, sure, but still cute. You bring her tea or was that just more of your broody wall-leaning thing?"

Adam said nothing.

Didn't even glance at him.

Tony whistled low. "Damn. You're really doing the whole tortured protector routine, huh?"

Still no answer.

Adam's jaw had been tight since last night. Since he'd seen the bruise again—deeper now, spreading under her eye like spoiled fruit. It hadn't faded. It had darkened.

She hadn't even complained.

That made it worse.

He passed through the threshold into the back area—shipping crates stacked, chairs scattered. A poker game half-heartedly occupied two of the new recruits. One of them—Marlin—was talking too loud, laughing at something that wasn't funny.

"…girl looked like she was gonna cry just from me stepping in the place," Marlin was saying, flicking a toothpick between his teeth. "All that handmade crap and stitched flowers—guess she thought she was safe in that cute little shop."

Adam froze mid-step.

Marlin didn't notice.

"I gave her a little taste of how the real world works. Smart mouth like that? Had to remind her who runs the district. And her buddy? Pfft—folded like laundry."

Adam turned slowly.

Tony noticed the change immediately. "Uh-oh."

Marlin laughed again. "She tried to talk big. Said real protection doesn't come with threats. So I gave her one. Smacked her good, right across the face. Swear to God, I heard her whimper—"

He didn't finish the sentence.

Because Adam's fist collided with his jaw so hard the toothpick snapped in half midair.

Marlin dropped sideways, a crack echoing as his face hit concrete.

Everyone went silent.

Marlin groaned, blood already blooming from his nose. "What the—what the hell—"

Adam grabbed the front of his shirt, yanked him up, and slammed him into the nearest crate.

"You laid hands on her," he said. Calm. Too calm.

Marlin blinked through blood. "What? Who—?"

Adam punched him again. The crate groaned.

Tony muttered, "Shit," and took a step back.

Marlin gasped, "I-I didn't know she was—"

Another punch.

This time to the ribs.

Then again.

And again.

Crack.

A bone gave.

Adam didn't stop until Marlin slid to the ground in a heap, coughing blood onto the concrete.

The other men were frozen. No one dared speak.

Adam crouched beside him.

"She wasn't yours to touch," he said, voice low. "She wasn't yours to frighten."

Marlin whimpered. "I-I was just—just doing what we always—"

Adam grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his head into the floor.

Then stood up, slow and precise, like he'd just finished tying his shoes.

He turned to the room.

"Take him to the river lot."

Two men jumped at the order. Tony included.

Adam's voice didn't waver. "I want one eye gone. Make it clean. Make it loud."

One of the others swallowed hard. "You want him alive?"

"For now."

No one argued.

Tony helped haul Marlin up, grimacing. "That was his good eye, too."

Adam didn't respond. Just wiped the blood from his knuckles with a handkerchief and tossed it in the trash.

As he walked toward the exit, Tony called after him, "You know, most guys just buy flowers when they're upset someone hurt a girl."

he left.

No fanfare.

No guilt.

Only the click of the door behind him—and a command no one in that room would ever forget.