Adrian's POV
Fuck" I cursed an hour later, as I stood in the damn bathroom hall, in one cubicle, rubbing my cock so hard, my mind on Captain Nate's mouth and eyes as he breathed in and out, and his Adams apple bobbed up and down.
" Damn," Another word escaped my mouth as cum flashed on the floor, and my body trembled like a leaf. The orgasm left me breathless, and I heaved so loudly as I came down from the high and my body shoo
" Oh, Cole, I can't wait to make you submit," I whispered as I finished the shower and went back to my cell and found Marco waiting for me.
Ten minutes later, fully dressed and reading the file that Marco had brought, I was lost deep in thought.
"You're staring again." Marco's voice cut through the quiet like a blade dragged lazily across stone
I didn't look up. "I'm reading," I corrected, turning another page in the thin folder spread open across the steel bunk.
Marco shifted near the door, boots scraping softly against concrete. "You said that last time you 'read' someone like this."
I hummed. "And?"
"And someone ended up buried in a quarry outside Modesto."
"That," I said mildly, "was an unfortunate misunderstanding."
Marco snorted. "You ordered it."
"I sanctioned it," I replied. "There's a difference."
He crossed his arms. "You're splitting hairs."
"I always do," I said, tapping the file. "It keeps me sharp."
Marco stepped closer, peering over my shoulder despite knowing better. "You've been at that thing for hours."
"Yes."
"You memorized it yet?"
"Almost."
He tilted his head. "That's not normal."
"Neither is Captain Nathaniel Cole."
That made him pause.
Slowly, Marco leaned against the wall. "There it is."
I finally looked up.
"There, what is?" I asked.
"That tone," he said. "That one that you use when something stops being business."
I smiled faintly. "Everything is business."
"Bullshit."
I didn't correct him.
Marco sighed. "Read it out loud."
I raised a brow. "You don't outrank me."
"No," he agreed. "But I've kept you alive long enough to earn curiosity."
I considered him for a moment, then obliged.
"'Subject exhibits extreme behavioural discipline,'" I read. "'Adheres rigidly to procedural structure. Maintains emotional distance in professional settings.'"
Marco rolled his eyes. "Sounds boring."
I turned the page. "'Demonstrates elevated stress response when physical space is compromised.'"
Marco stilled. "That's new."
"Mm."
"Read the rest."
"'Freeze response under proximity pressure,'" I continued. "'Does not escalate physically. Does not retreat. Exhibits internalized control conflict.'"
Marco exhaled slowly. "He locks up."
"Exactly."
"That dangerous?"
I closed the folder gently. "That's beautiful."
Marco frowned. "You're enjoying this."
"I'm appreciating it," I corrected again. "There's a difference."
"You said that earlier."
"And I was right then too."
Marco pushed off the wall. "Adrian, you don't study people like this unless you plan to break them."
"Incorrect."
He arched a brow.
"I study people," I said calmly, "to understand where they're already broken."
Marco was quiet for a moment. Then, "So what's the move?"
I leaned back against the concrete wall, folding my arms. "We shift the board."
"Meaning?"
"I make myself unavoidable."
Marco laughed under his breath. "From a prison cell."
"Especially from a prison cell."
He shook his head. "You're enjoying the irony."
"Immensely."
He rubbed his jaw. "You going to tell me how?"
"Flowers."
Silence.
Then Marco blinked. "I'm sorry—what?"
"White roses," I said. "Fresh. Expensive. Delivered mid-day."
Marco stared. "You've lost your damn mind."
"On the contrary," I replied. "I've found it."
"You're sending flowers to a CSI captain."
"Yes."
"In his own building."
"Yes."
"Where everyone can see."
"Precisely."
Marco barked a laugh. "That's not intimidation. That's flirting."
"No," I corrected. "That's claiming territory."
He pointed at me. "That's insane."
I smiled. "That's effective."
Marco exhaled sharply. "You're provoking him."
"I'm testing him."
"In public."
"Where he can't react."
Marco's grin slowly crept in. "Oh. Oh, that's cruel."
"I prefer elegant."
He shook his head. "You want witnesses."
"I want pressure."
"You want him thinking about you while pretending not to."
"Exactly."
Marco laughed. "He's going to hate it."
"He already does," I said. "That's the point."
"And the card?"
I didn't hesitate. "My name."
"That's it?"
"Gold ink."
Marco groaned. "You don't do subtle."
"I am decisive."
He studied me carefully. "You're escalating."
"I'm clarifying."
"Same thing."
"No," I said. "Escalation invites reaction. Clarification forces introspection."
Marco scoffed. "You sound like a therapist."
"I'd be excellent at it."
He sobered. "You sure you want to poke him like this? He's trained. Armed. Law enforcement."
"And compromised," I replied calmly.
Marco's eyes sharpened. "That confident?"
"I watched his hands shake."
"That could've been adrenaline."
"His breathing changed first."
Marco frowned. "You noticed that?"
"I notice everything."
Silence stretched.
"You're dangerous when you focus like this," Marco said quietly.
"I'm dangerous all the time," I replied. "This is just… intentional."
He studied me for a long moment. "This isn't just leverage anymore."
I didn't answer.
"That's not a denial," he pressed.
"I want him honest," I said finally.
Marco tilted his head. "With you?"
"With himself."
He exhaled. "That's worse."
I smiled faintly.
Marco reached into his jacket and slid another folder onto the bunk. "Street update."
I opened it. "Derrick?"
"He's losing patience."
"He always does."
"He's moving product near the university."
My jaw tightened. "Sloppy."
"Ten overdoses," Marco said. "Five critical."
I looked up. "Find the source."
"Already tracing."
"Bring him to me."
Marco hesitated. "Alive?"
"Yes."
"That complicates things."
"Everything complicates things now."
Marco studied me. "You're playing two games."
"I always am."
"And they're colliding."
I closed the folder. "Then I'll control the collision."
Footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor. Marco straightened instinctively.
"I'll arrange the delivery," he said. "Timing?"
"When he's in a meeting."
Marco smirked. "Of course."
"And no threats," I added. "No symbols."
"That'll confuse him."
"It'll force him to think," I said. "And thinking is where he loses control."
Marco nodded. "Anything else?"
I considered it.
"Yes," I said softly. "Make sure they're flawless."
He paused. "Why?"
"Because imperfections give men like him excuses."
Marco smiled slowly. "You really want him unraveling."
"I want him aware."
Marco stepped back toward the door. "You're going to ruin him."
I met his gaze. "No."
"Then what?"
"I'm going to make him choose."
Marco shook his head. "You're not a king."
I smiled. "No."
The door buzzed. "I'm the board."