"No!" I gasp, the word tearing out of me like a sob. "Don't touch me. Don't call me that."
His face breaks.
I see it happen in real time. The hope in his eyes shatters, replaced by something raw and devastating. His jaw tightens, and his hand slowly pulls back.
I stare at him, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
This is wrong.
My hallucinations of Adrian are never like this. They're always of him smiling, or telling me everything will be okay.
He never looks devastated.
Am I going crazy? Is this real?
"Get away from her," Maxim yells, and I jerk my head toward the sound.
Maxim is pushing himself up from the floor, blood dripping from his mouth, staining his white shirt. He wipes his lip with the back of his hand, his eyes locking onto the man in front of me.
"She belongs to me," he continues. "Go down and buy your own whore."
The man who looks like Adrian goes completely still.
I watch his face, and something shifts. His nostrils flare, and his upper lip twitches.
That twitch.
Oh my god.
It's the exact tell Adrian always had. It's what he's done all his life before he got into fights. Before he threw a punch at some asshole in a bar who talked about me the wrong way. Before he tackled his brother Lucian for teasing him too hard.
He turns away from me, and in one fluid motion, he launches himself at Maxim.
The impact is brutal as Adrian's body collides with Maxim's, and they crash into the side table. A heavy lamp shatters, sending small pieces of glass and porcelain sliding across the floor.
I scream, my hands flying to my mouth, my body jerking back against the wall, but that doesn't stop Adrian.
He's on top of Maxim, his fists coming down over and over, each punch landing with a thud. Blood sprays across the floor and across Adrian's hands.
Maxim tries to fight back, his hands clawing at Adrian's face, but Adrian is relentless.
He's like a monster, and I can't look away.
This isn't the Adrian I remember. My Adrian was protective, yes. He got into fights, yes. But he was never this brutal. Never this terrifying in front of me.
This man is a killer, and I need to get away from him before he kills me, too.
I press my hands flat against the ground, my legs trembling as I try to push myself up. My knees are weak, my body feels heavy, but I force myself to keep moving.
I have to run. I have to get out.
But before I can stand, two armed men rush into the room. They're Maxim's guards.
Adrian doesn't hesitate.
He pulls a gun from inside his jacket and presses it against Maxim's face, and pulls the trigger.
It doesn't sound like a normal gunshot. It's quiet, and it makes me second guess if he's fired.