ADRIAN'S POV
" That was fucking close," I muttered to myself and heaved a sigh of relief.
The sterile silence of the hospital room was a refreshing change from the grinding noise of Hell's Watch. I lay propped up on the pillows, the IV dripping in my arm a perfect theatrical prop, watching the clock tick down to Nate's arrival.
Izzy had done well; the security was impenetrable, the false medical crisis convincing, and the air of high-stakes urgency was palpable. The real purpose of this transfer was not medical; it was psychological warfare. I needed to reestablish the dynamics of our relationship quickly before Derrick's intelligence could weaponize Nate's shame. Nate had to understand that his lifeline, my information, my protection, my presence, was fragile. He needed to be terrified of losing me.
