Now I was staring at another.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
Adrian leaned back in the chair beside my bed. For the first time, I noticed how tired he looked. The world knew him as a financial titan, a man whose company insured shipping lines, art collections, celebrities, politicians, private fortunes. But here, beneath the fluorescent hospital light, he looked like a man who had lost too much time and had arrived almost too late.
“I’m going to make sure you’re safe,” he said. “That is all you need to worry about tonight.”
“No,” I said.
The word came out faint, but it was mine.
His eyes returned to me.
“I spent five years letting Victor decide what I needed to worry about,” I said. “What I should know. Who I should see. How I should dress. What I should sign. I am done being protected by silence.”
