She shakes her head, and anger from me saying that name comes across her face.
"The second I saw that photo," I say, "everything changed. I didn't care about the expansion, didn't care about the business, didn't care about anything except finding you."
I stop, cracking my neck to release the rising tension as I bring all this up.
"I told my brothers, got on a plane, and flew back to Romania ready to start tearing Europe, Russia, apart until I found you."
Elena takes a shaky breath, her eyes focused on me and red from crying.
"I tracked every lead," I say, my voice rough. "Every name, every location, every connection. Victor bribed officials and we found our way into that château. And then to you."
She doesn't say anything. She just sits there taking it all in. I don't blame her, it's a lot to comprehend.
I lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees, and I look at her, my voice steady and firm.
"I never abandoned you, Leni. I died the day they told me you were gone. And I didn't start breathing again until I broke that door down and saw your face."
The words hang in the air, and I see a few tears fall and her shoulders shake slightly, like she might start sobbing again.
I want to go to her. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her until the pain stops, but I don't move.
I stay in the chair and I wait, because this is her moment to process things. I want her to want me back.
Elena's breath is ragged as she cries, stops, and then cries again.
I stay in the chair, my body tense, every muscle coiled and ready to move if she needs me.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she looks at me and for the first time, I feel like it's Leni looking at me, and not the shell.
"I missed you, Adi."
20
ELENA
"God, have I missed you, too, Leni."
The words hang between us, fragile.
His face shifts, and the hardness cracks.
The truth settles in me, heavy and undeniable.
He didn't abandon me.
The resentment that's been eating me alive, the anger, the bitter accusations I screamed at him hours ago, it evaporates. Just... gone, because now I understand.
My chest relaxes. In this moment, there's no panic or shame, just some much-needed relief.
I reach my hand out toward him, my fingers trembling.
Adrian moves before I can second-guess myself.
He's out of the chair, crossing the space between us, and his hands close around mine. His big hands are warm and comforting.
He bings my hand up to his cheek. “My angel,” he breathes, and smiles at me.
I start crying again, the relief making its way out of me.