Adrian Gambino.
Even as I moved away, the name lingered like a bitter taste at the back of my throat.
didn't just interrupt—he inserted himself. Deliberately. Precisely. Like a man who knew exactly what he was doing… and who he was doing it to.
And I hated that I'd let it happen.
Each step toward the entrance felt heavier than it should have. Controlled. Measured. But not natural.
Not when every instinct in my body was pulling in the opposite direction.
Back to her.
To .
It was irrational.
Annoying.
Dangerous.
And yet—
there it was.
That pull.
Persistent. Unrelenting.
Like something unfinished scratching beneath my skin.
The noise of the party blurred into the background—the low hum of conversations, the clink of glasses, the shallow laughter of people pretending they mattered. Normally, I would read the room, calculate, observe.
Now?
I didn't care.
Because all I could think about was the way Adrian had looked at her.
Not just protective.
Possessive.
Like he had a right.
My jaw tightened.
No.
That didn't sit well.
Not even slightly.
My hand curled briefly at my side before I forced it to relax, exhaling slowly through my nose. Control. Always control.
But control was getting… complicated.
Because I had seen something.
Something real.
That moment—
when she almost lost it.
When that perfect, polished composure cracked just enough for me to catch what was underneath.
And now I couldn't unsee it.
Couldn't ignore it.
Did Adrian see it too?
The thought hit harder than expected.
A sharp, unwelcome edge cutting through my focus.
If he had—
My steps slowed.
Just slightly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But enough.
Enough for the thought to settle in deeper.
The idea of him noticing the same things I did… reading her the same way…
It didn't sit right.
It didn't sit right at all.
Something dark twisted low in my chest.
Possessive.
Instinctive.
Unfamiliar.
I didn't like it.
Which, of course, meant it mattered.
I reached the edge of the room, near the entrance, where the air felt cooler—less suffocating than whatever tension had built behind me.
But even here—
she was still there.
Not physically.
But present.
Like my body hadn't caught up with my decision to leave.
My fingers brushed against the edge of the table beside me, grounding myself.
Focus.
This was business.
That's why I was here.
That's why Adrian was here.
That's why she was here.
But the memory of her voice—low, controlled, warning me—cut through that logic instantly.
"You're not in control here."
A quiet huff of breath left me.
She really believed that.
Or maybe—
she needed to.
Because the truth?
Neither of us was.
And that was the problem.
My gaze flicked toward the exit.
Freedom.
Distance.
The smart choice.
Walk out. Reset. Regain control.
Forget the tension.
Forget the moment.
Forget her.
…
My body didn't move.
Instead—
I looked back.
Just once.
Just to confirm something.
A mistake.
Because the second my eyes found her again—
everything else faded.
She hadn't moved far.
Still within the crowd, but not lost in it.
Never lost.
She stood like she belonged everywhere and nowhere at the same time—untouchable, composed… but I knew better now.
Because I had seen what was underneath.
And worse—
I wanted to see it again.
My jaw clenched harder.
This was getting out of hand.
And then—
as if sensing it—
she looked up.
Straight at me.
No hesitation.
No confusion.
Like she knew I'd look back.
Like she expected it.
Something sharp flickered in her eyes.
Not surprise.
Not softness.
Challenge.
That same quiet defiance that had been driving me insane since the moment I noticed her.
And just like that—
every step I had taken toward the exit felt irrelevant.
Meaningless.
Because I wasn't leaving.
Not really.
Not when she looked at me like that.
Not when something unspoken was still hanging between us—unfinished, unresolved… demanding.
My fingers flexed again.
That same urge.
To close the distance.
To test the line she kept pretending wasn't there.
To see how far I could push before she broke.
Or before I did.
Dangerous thought.
I should leave.
I knew that.
But knowing and doing had become two very different things tonight.
Because now there was something else layered beneath the tension.
Something sharper.
Jealousy.
I exhaled slowly, my gaze darkening as it drifted—briefly, deliberately—to where Adrian had disappeared.
The idea of him coming back.
Of him standing too close.
Speaking to her like he had authority—
No.
That wasn't happening again.
Not without a response.
And I didn't do subtle when it came to things I didn't like.
My attention snapped back to her.
Still watching.
Still steady.
Still pretending none of this affected her.
A lie.
A very obvious one now.
A slow, dangerous smile touched my lips—more to myself than anyone else.
Because I understood something now.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
Walking away didn't end it.
It just delayed it.
And next time—
there wouldn't be an interruption.
No Adrian.
No distance.
No excuses.
Just her.
And me.
And whatever this was—
this tension, this pull, this quiet war neither of us wanted to name.
I straightened slightly, rolling my shoulders back as that cold, controlled exterior slid back into place.
But it wasn't the same anymore.
There was something underneath it now.
Something sharper.
More deliberate.
Because I had made a decision.
Not impulsive.
Not reckless.
Calculated.
The next time I walked toward her—
I wasn't stopping halfway.
And the next time someone tried to step between us—
They wouldn't just be interrupting.
They'd be making a mistake.
My gaze held hers for one final second.
Long enough to say everything I wasn't saying out loud.
Then—
I turned again.
But this time—
it wasn't to leave.
It was to circle back.
Slowly.
Patiently.
Like a man who knew exactly what he wanted—
and had just decided
he wasn't letting anyone else have it.
Mine ...
Now
She is mine..