Stronger as One (#1, Completed)

1. Shadows of the mind

Genius, my arse.

Grunts filled the room as he tried to squeeze out of his seat before swagging toward me with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Riley, baby," he exclaimed, bits of doughnut flying. "I've missed you. Life is no fun without you by my side."

"Hi, Adam." I did my best to look as genuine as possible when I stuck a polite smile on my face. Damn John and his favours. "I see that not much has changed since I saw you six months ago."

"No, baby. I need you in my life. Sure you don't want to become the next Mrs Adam Smith?"

Ha, over my dead body. "I think I am more interested in women, so pass."

"But we could have so much fun together. Maybe I'm just the bloke to remind you what you're missing, eh?" He grinned, taking a step towards me.

It was taking all of my inner strength not to punch him myself. But that didn't mean I couldn't remind him not to play with fire.

"Hey, Adam, ever heard of Krav Maga?" I smirked, getting closer to him. His eyes glazed in confusion. "It's the world's most dangerous martial art, and I'm a black belt. So, for both our sakes, stop pulling your sleazy moves on me and all other girls when I am around."

Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and by the way he quickly dropped his cocky attitude, I knew my words had the intended effect.

He straightened his t-shirt with long, nervous strokes and nodded in agreement, but, to be honest, it wouldn't be him if he didn't try to get the last word in. "Crikey. Happy to have you on my side, then."

Two hours later, we arrived at a bustling tech meet-up in Shoreditch, where the meet-and-greet was taking place. Adam had recently developed a new coding software, and tech geeks seemed to be all over it. The room was mainly packed with young guys and girls, all hoping to be the next Steve Jobs. Or rather, the next Adam Smith.

The speeches dragged on forever. By the time we hit the mid-event reception, the mood in the room had shifted, eager entrepreneurs and wannabe ones mingling, their ambitions and anxieties almost palpable. I, on the other hand, was ready to be over and done with this job.

That was when she stormed over, rage twisting her face. I thought about whether to stop the tall young woman, but I was pretty sure I knew what was coming. She was far from Adam's first pissed-off lover. Or his last.

"How could you?" she exploded, wagging her finger at him. "You fucked my sister while I was at the spa. I left my fiance for you, you prick." Her eyes burned with fire, the kind that reminded you why a woman scorned was a dangerous woman.

Before Adam could even react or say a word, she grabbed the phone from his hand and lifted it above her head.

"Nononono... not my mobile," he pleaded, yet it was too late.

The cracking of his smartphone was the only sound in the dead-quiet room when she smashed it on the floor and stomped it with her foot. All eyes were on the star of the night, taking in every moment of the unfurling drama.

The numerous clicking sounds of the journalists' cameras snapped the woman out of her rage. She swivelled around, satisfied with the scene she had caused, and left the reception hall as quickly as she had shown up.

To my surprise, Adam tried to stop her but found himself tumbling backwards when she pulled her arm out of his grip and ran away.

"What the hell, Riley? You are supposed to keep me safe." His breath was reduced to an erratic rasp as he lay on the floor, unable to get back up without any help.