During one operation, we intentionally let him escape, barely alive.

So I could "save" him in an alley.

I played the frightened shop girl perfectly.

When he refused to go to a hospital—

I brought him home.

He stayed with me for days.

Everything was planned.

The bedroom arrangement.

The "accidental" slip of my bath towel.

The unavoidable touches while bandaging him.

I made myself cheerful.

Warm.

Always trying to make him smile.

Until one night—

the lights were off.

For a split second, instinct screamed at me to flip him over my shoulder.

I suppressed it.

He pulled me into his arms in the dark.

I had to act like a naive girl—

looking at him with innocent eyes.

Even after we got together, he remained guarded.

He never planned a future with me.

To him—

I was disposable.

But then—

my chance came.

I was kidnapped by a rival gang.

Tied to a chair. A camera pointed at me.

They told me everything about Adrian.

That he was a drug trafficker.

That he was ruthless, evil.

I had to react just right.

Not too calm.

Not too terrified.

I had to be—

resolute.

Loyal.

Completely devoted to him.

Eleven hours later—

he came.

Dressed in black.

I looked at him with tearful eyes.

But the man who once held me close—

only glanced at me.

Cold. Detached.

"Your terms."

"Three suppliers. Fifty pounds of the new product."

He laughed.

"You think she's worth that much?"

Disdain.

Indifference.

He turned to leave.

The gun shifted toward him.

"Watch out!"

I lunged.

The shot fired—

embedding into my arm.

Pain exploded.

The attackers were instantly riddled with bullets.

Of course—

he hadn't come alone.

He stood in front of me.

"Why save me… after I abandoned you?"

In my mind, I knew—

the gunman would've been dead before he can shoot him.

But I said:

"It was instinct… I didn't want you to get hurt."

His voice softened.

"You don't care what I do?"

I shook my head.

But inside, I thought—

Adrian Cross.

One day…

you'll become the brightest medal on my chest.

After I took that bullet for him, he began to open up.

Like a man who had never been loved before—and didn't quite know what to do with it.

That was when I realized something critical:

Adrian Cross was starved for affection.