The knock came too late to be casual.
Sofia frowned as she glanced at the clock, her fingers still wrapped around the stem of her wine glass. She wasn't expecting anyone—not at this hour, not without a message, not without a reason.
Her cats barely stirred, both curled up on the couch beside her, completely unbothered.
The knock came again.
Firm.
Measured.
Not impatient.
But deliberate.
Sofia set the glass down slowly and stood, her mind already running through possibilities that didn't quite make sense. No one from work would show up like this. Elena would have called.
Elena always called.
A flicker of unease settled in her chest as she walked toward the door.
She opened it.
And froze.
Adrian Virelli stood on the other side.
Perfectly composed.
Perfectly still.
As if he had been there the entire time.
For a second, Sofia just stared at him, her mind struggling to catch up with what she was seeing. The surprise alone would have been enough—but beneath it, something sharper surfaced almost immediately.
How did he know where she lived?
"Mr. Virelli," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "This is… unexpected."
His gaze moved over her briefly, taking in everything without seeming to linger on anything.
"Ms. Alvarez," he replied calmly. "I apologize for the late hour."
He didn't sound like he meant it.
Sofia hesitated.
Only for a moment.
Then she stepped aside.
"Come in."
Because saying no didn't feel like an option.
—
He moved through her apartment like he belonged there.
Not arrogantly.
Not loudly.
But with that same quiet certainty that seemed to follow him everywhere.
Sofia closed the door behind him, her heart beating faster now, though she forced herself to stay composed.
"Can I get you something?" she asked, already knowing the answer didn't matter.
"No."
Of course.
He turned slightly, his attention settling on the space, the details—books stacked on the table, a laptop left open, the faint scent of wine in the air.
Normal life.
Her life.
"So," Sofia said, folding her arms lightly, as if grounding herself. "What brings you here?"
Adrian looked at her then.
Directly.
"I'm looking for Elena."
The words were simple.
But they landed heavier than they should have.
Sofia blinked.
"Why would you think she's here?"
A pause.
Too fast.
Too defensive.
She realized it the second it left her mouth.
So did he.
Adrian didn't react outwardly, but something in his gaze sharpened.
"I didn't say she was," he replied calmly. "I said I was looking for her."
Sofia's fingers tightened slightly against her arm.
"Did something happen?"
There.
Safer.
Neutral.
Adrian held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary.
Then—
"She left."
Two words.
Nothing more.
But Sofia felt them settle somewhere deep in her chest.
Left.
As in—
left.
"Elena… left?" she repeated, her voice softer now, more uncertain.
"Yes."
No explanation.
No detail.
Just confirmation.
Sofia exhaled slowly, her thoughts racing.
She hadn't heard from her.
Not since—
Yesterday.
Lunch.
The conversation.
I have to leave.
Her stomach tightened.
"She didn't call me," Sofia said, more to herself than to him.
Adrian watched her closely.
"Should she have?"
The question was quiet.
But precise.
Sofia hesitated.
Just for a second.
"She—" she started, then stopped, her mind catching up too late with what she was about to say.
Adrian didn't interrupt.
Didn't help.
He simply waited.
And that was worse.
"She's been… stressed," Sofia continued, forcing the words into something safer. "I assumed she just needed space."
"Space," Adrian repeated.
Sofia nodded.
"Yes."
Silence stretched.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
And then—
"You had lunch yesterday," Adrian said.
It wasn't a question.
Sofia's head snapped up slightly.
"Yes."
Another mistake.
Too quick.
Too automatic.
Adrian took a step closer.
Not threatening.
Not aggressive.
But enough to shift the balance of the room.
"What did she tell you?"
Sofia swallowed.
"Nothing unusual."
A lie.
Obvious.
Transparent.
Adrian tilted his head slightly, studying her.
"She told you she was leaving."
The words were calm.
Certain.
Sofia's breath caught.
"No, I—"
"You don't need to lie," he said quietly.
And somehow, that made it worse.
Because it didn't feel like permission.
It felt like inevitability.
Sofia looked away for a moment, her thoughts scrambling, trying to find something—anything—that wouldn't make this worse.
But there was nothing.
And he knew it.
Of course he did.
"She didn't say where," Sofia said finally, her voice quieter now, the resistance slipping out of it despite herself. "Just that she couldn't stay."
Adrian didn't move.
Didn't react.
But his attention sharpened completely.
"When?" he asked.
Sofia hesitated again.
Then—
"She was planning it."
There it was.
The line she couldn't take back.
Her chest tightened as the realization hit her too late.
Adrian's gaze darkened, not visibly, not dramatically, but enough that the air in the room shifted.
"How long?" he asked.
"I don't know," Sofia said quickly. "I swear, I don't know details. She just—she said she needed time, money, a way out. That she couldn't just run without a plan."
Silence.
Then—
"Did she mention help?"
The question was softer now.
More dangerous.
Sofia shook her head.
"No. No, she didn't."
That part was true.
At least… she thought it was.
Adrian watched her for a moment longer, as if weighing the truth of that answer.
Then he stepped back slightly, the tension in the room shifting again, though it didn't disappear.
"You should call me," he said, his tone returning to something almost neutral. "If she contacts you."
Sofia's stomach dropped.
"Of course."
Another lie.
They both knew it.
Adrian moved toward the door without another word, his presence leaving the space as quietly as it had filled it.
But just before he stepped out—
he stopped.
Turned slightly.
"You care about her," he said.
It wasn't a question.
Sofia nodded slowly.
"Yes."
A pause.
Then Adrian's gaze settled on her one last time.
"Then don't make this harder for her."
The words sounded like concern.
Like warning.
Like something else entirely.
Then he left.
—
The door closed.
Sofia didn't move.
Not immediately.
She just stood there, staring at the space he had occupied, her heart racing now, her hands no longer steady.
Because she understood something now that she hadn't before.
This wasn't just about Elena leaving.
This was about how far Adrian was willing to go—
to bring her back.