chapter 119
Sebastian's POV:
The moment Elena's lips formed his name—"It's Lucas Ashton"—every muscle in my body coiled tight despite the screaming protest from my ribs.
The painkillers dulled the physical agony, but nothing could numb the surge of raw possessiveness that flooded through me at the thought of that bastard standing outside my door.
"What the hell is he doing here?" The words came out sharper than intended, slicing through the antiseptic hospital air.
Through the partially open door, I caught Marcus's measured voice, professional despite the tension radiating from his stance. Whatever Lucas had brought, whatever excuse he'd manufactured for this visit, I wanted him gone. Now.
But clearly, the bastard had no intention of leaving.
"Let him in," I said instead, the words tasting. If he wanted to play games, fine. I'd see what trick he had up his sleeve this time.
The door opened fully, and there he was—Lucas fucking Ashton, looking every inch the polished businessman in his charcoal Armani suit, holding pastry boxes like some kind of peace offering.
My jaw clenched hard enough to crack teeth. Of course, he'd brought her favorites. The son of a bitch had done his homework.
But I was nothing if not a master of the game.
As he stepped into the room, I let out a carefully calculated groan, sinking back against the pillows with my hand pressed to my ribs. Elena's attention snapped back to me immediately, her fingers fluttering over my arm in concern.
"Darling, perhaps you should sit," I rasped, playing up the weakness in my voice. "The doctor said you shouldn't be on your feet too long." I guided her to perch on the edge of my bed, deliberately positioning her within my reach, my arm curved possessively around her lower back.
She settled beside me obediently, her delicate fingers immediately ghosting over the bandages visible through my hospital gown, checking for any signs of fresh bleeding or distress.
"What's wrong?" she murmured, her brow furrowing with worry. "Are you uncomfortable? Does something hurt?"
I shook my head, capturing her restless hand in mine. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just wanted you close."
The concern in her eyes, the gentle way she fussed over me—it filled me with a deep, primal satisfaction that I didn't bother to hide.
Let Lucas see how she tended to me, how naturally she responded to my needs. My lips curved in a subtle smirk as I caught his jaw tightening at the display.
Lucas's eyes tracked the movement, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Good. Let him see exactly where she belonged.
"Ashton," I acknowledged, letting exhaustion color my tone even as my gaze remained sharp as a blade. "What brings you here?"
He set the pastry boxes on the side table with deliberate care, his movements controlled.
"I heard about the accident," he said smoothly, though something flickered behind those cold eyes when they landed on Elena's swollen belly. "I wanted to ensure you were both well. And to discuss a matter of mutual interest."
Mutual interest. The words hung in the air like a threat wrapped in silk.
Marcus, ever vigilant, had stepped inside and closed the door, positioning himself where he could intervene if necessary. Not that I'd need the help. Broken ribs or not, I could still snap Lucas's neck if properly motivated.
"Cut the diplomatic bullshit, Ashton," I said coldly, abandoning any pretense of weakness. "Say what you came to say and get out."
"Actually," Lucas continued, his gaze never leaving Elena's face—a fact that made me want to gouge his eyes out—"I heard you're looking for investment partners for your latest venture. I'd like to express my interest in joining."
So that was his angle. The expansion project that had been making waves in financial circles—everyone wanted a piece of it.
We'd been carefully vetting potential partners for weeks, and now Lucas thought he could waltz in here and insert himself into my business.
"We already have suitable candidates," I said flatly, tightening my hold on Elena as she shifted slightly. "The positions are filled."
Lucas's smile was razor-thin. "Yes, I'm aware. However, certain... governmental parties have expressed interest in seeing our families collaborate rather than compete. They feel it would be beneficial for market stability.'"
The threat beneath the words was clear. Play nice, or watch the government make things difficult for both our enterprises. It was a classic strong-arm tactic, one I'd have admired if it weren't being directed at me.
"The minister can express all the interest he likes," I drawled, letting boredom seep into my tone. "I don't take orders."
"Of course not." Lucas's attention shifted back to me, and I saw the exact moment his mask slipped. "No one gives orders to Sebastian Vane. But perhaps we could view it as an opportunity. After all, we both want what's best for the city's future."
What he wanted had nothing to do with the city and everything to do with the woman currently pressed against my side. I could see it.
I raised an eyebrow, almost amused by his tactics. Using grand narratives about civic duty and market stability—classic Lucas Ashton manipulation.
He'd always been good at wrapping self-interest in noble causes.
"How altruistic of you," I drawled, letting sarcasm drip from every word. "But as you can see, I'm currently indisposed."
I gestured vaguely at the hospital bed, the monitors, the IV drip. "I've made my position clear. If you have details to discuss, Nicholas handles these matters. Otherwise..." I flicked my gaze toward the pastry boxes he'd brought. "Feel free to take your little care package and leave. "