Chapter 18 His soft, juicy, lips
Sonia's POV
The drive to Lucian’s house felt endless.
Neither of us spoke, and yet the silence was louder than anything I’d ever heard. I kept gazing out through the window, quietly enjoying the night breeze and city light. My mind went to Angela, who had insisted on spending the night in my house, so that I wouldn't do anything stupid. If only she knew that I don't care about Michael anymore. I couldn't tell her that I was entering a fake marriage, not yet at least.
Daniel sat in front, pretending not to listen or care, his expression was unreadable in the mirror. I could feel Lucian beside me, he was calm, as if he’d just made a casual business deal instead of proposing marriage to me.
Marriage. The word still didn’t feel real. I will be his wife, and he my husband. And by tomorrow morning, the whole world will be aware.
When the car finally rolled to a stop in front of his mansion, the ‘Lucian Smithfield Estate', as the media called it, my chest tightened. The place was enormous, gothic, and beautiful in the coldest way imaginable. A house meant for power, not comfort. I couldn't believe that I was in front of such excellence. When Lucian told me to follow him to his house to get our marriage contract, I thought he'd take me to his condo, not his palace!
The car entered the big gate, and it was parked in the garage. Lucian stepped out first. “Come inside,” he said with a plain voice.
I followed him through the front door, enjoying the magnificent scene before me. The air smelled faintly of cedar and something darker, maybe whiskey or cologne. His home felt sterile, too quiet, like no one had laughed there in years. And I worried for his well-being. Living in such a house can make a human crazy, I'm talking from experience.
On the glass coffee table in the main room sat a stack of documents. Daniel placed a pen beside them.
Lucian gestured for me to sit. “It’s a one-year contract,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “No ceremony, no press event. The public announcement will be live tomorrow morning.”
I sank into the chair across from him, my fingers brushing the papers. “You planned all this already?”
He didn’t deny it. “Contingency planning. Always have an exit strategy. You never know what to expect.”
A humorless laugh escaped me, and I looked at him with admiration. “Of course you do. You're Lucian Smithfield after all.”
When we got into his house, it was more majestic inside. I looked around, and there was no maid or staff, but the house looked clean.
“A clean man. Nice,” I mumbled to myself, and quietly touched a table. I looked at my hands for any stain or particle, and when I couldn't find one, I smiled.
Lucian looked at me with raised brows before turning to pour himself a drink. “You’ll be known publicly as my wife. That will keep people and rivals from trying anything reckless. In a year, if the situation is stable, we’ll end it quietly.”
“And if it’s not?” I asked with a doubtful voice.
“Then we’ll renew. Or come up with a better idea.”
I gave him a smug look. “You make marriage sound like a company merger.”
“In my world, it is.”
For a long moment, the only sound was the faint ticking of a distant clock. I stared down at the contract, the thick, expensive paper with my name already printed beside his. It felt surreal, like I was signing away a piece of myself to survive someone else’s war.
“Why am I even doing this? Is it worth it?” I asked myself multiple times.
Still, I picked up the pen.
Lucian’s intense gaze followed every movement of my hand. When I finished signing, he stood and extended his hand. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Smithfield.”
The title didn't sit well with me, I might think like a traditional woman, but I have friends who are feminists. Also, it just sounded unreal. “Please, don’t call me that, Mr. Lucian,” I said with a calm demure, and joined him in the bar.
He smiled faintly, a rare thing that softened the sharpness in his face. “Fair enough. We'll go with Mrs. Sonia Magnus…..”
I turned to face him sharply, and he stopped talking.
Daniel excused himself, leaving us alone. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, it was something else. Lucian walked to the grand piano near the window, resting a hand on the keys but not playing.
“You look like you hate this house,” I said after a moment, desperately wanting to know more about him.
“I do,” he admitted, and pressed a piano key. “It’s too quiet.”
“That’s because you’re always working,” I replied, moving closer to him.
He shot me a sideways glance. “And you’re always analyzing. Just relax and let me take control.”
I shrugged. “Occupational hazard. I have every right not to trust anyone again.”
He chuckled, the sound catching me off guard. It was low and genuine, not the polished public version of him. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to hear it again until I did.
“Stay here tonight,” he said suddenly, with a black expression.
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You’ll have your own room. By tomorrow, the media will know that we’re married. If you go home, they’ll follow you….or worse, someone else will.”
“I can handle myself,” I replied quickly, my cheeks turning red in embarrassment.
Lucian crossed the room until he stood in front of me. “You said that before, Sonia. And look what happened.”
He was right. I wasn't capable of protecting myself, especially in this tricky situation. I looked away from him, hugging my arms. “I can't sleep in your house. It's indecent. I mean anything could happen, and I…...” I stammered and covered my cheeks with my palm.
Lucian once again studied me for a moment, then sighed. “Fine. Then we’ll make it a rule.”
I looked back up. “A rule?”
“If we’re doing this, the marriage and the contract, then we set boundaries now. You keep your independence, I keep my sanity.”
A reluctant smile tugged at my lips. “What kind of boundaries?”
He took the seat across from me. “Rule one: no pretending. We may be married, but this isn’t real. You don’t owe me affection, and I don’t expect it. But in public, we must be the sweetest sweetheart.”
I nodded slowly. “Fair enough.”
“Rule two,” he continued, his voice dropping slightly, “we don’t have to do what married couples do…. unless both of us consent.”
I froze. The air between us thickened. His tone wasn’t suggestive, but there was something about the way he said it that made my pulse quicken.
“So no -” I coughed, my nipples hardened.
“No intimacy, no sex,” he completed my sentence. “Unless we both want it.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s... reasonable.”
A ghostly smirk settled on his lips. “Rule three, you’ll move in.”
I stared at him, my eyes flaring with rage. “That’s not a rule, that’s an invasion of my privacy.”
“You’re safer here. And it’ll make the marriage believable.”
“Believable to whom? The press? Your father? Your family?”
He tilted his head and gulped down the remaining content in his cup. “To everyone.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re enjoying this, aren't you?”
“Maybe a little,” he admitted, almost playfully. “But it’s practical. We have to be careful. The marriage is not real, but no one other than us has to know this. If you don't sign the contract, you could lose your job, reputation, and life. This is a little sacrifice.”
I hesitated. The house still intimidated me. There were too many locked rooms, too many secrets, but his logic wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll think about it,” I replied, and together we moved away from the piano, back to his bar.
Lucian leaned back, studying me with that quiet, assessing gaze. “Take your time. Just don’t take too long. The media moves faster than common sense.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you ever turn that off?”
“What?”
“The CEO mode.”
He smiled again, this time it was soft. “Not when I’m married to someone who challenges me.”
His words were like a hot breath on my flesh. It was both romantic and cryptic. I didn’t know whether to laugh or blush, so I did neither. I just looked at him, really looked, and for the first time, he didn’t look like the cold, untouchable man everyone talks about.
He looked… tired. Maybe even lonely.
I wanted to pour myself a consolation drink when Lucian suddenly called out to me.
“Sonia.”
I turned.
He met my eyes with quiet sincerity. “You’re not a liability. Don’t ever let anyone, including me, make you feel that way again.”
Something in my chest shifted. I nodded, unable to speak, and quickly filled my glass with whiskey. I wasn't a good drinker, but I had just entered a contract marriage, giving up one year of my life. I deserve a break. Also, it doesn't make sense to leave Lucian all by himself.
We drank in silence. Michael had warned me not to drink, and he imposed a lot on me. But with Lucian, I felt free. I could be myself without bothering about embarrassing him.
“Why are you so nice to me, Mr. Lucian? What do you want? I have nothing except my life to offer,” I said to Lucian. Half from the alcohol, and the other half out of curiosity.
Lucian chuckled, he wasn't drunk, but his lips were red and swollen. “Because you remind me of her,” he replied with a smile.
“Who?” I pushed further. “Your mother?” I didn't know if I was supposed to say that, but my curiosity got the best of me.
Lucian didn't say anything. He poured himself another glass of wine. “My mother was an orphan. She grew up in an orphanage home and fell in love with the first man who offered her a chance to escape. If only she knew what her future held, she'd have avoided Edward Smithfield like the plague,” he burst into bitter laughter. The one used to hide pain.
I looked at Lucian, and I pitied him. He might be rich and powerful, but deep down, he was still a little boy searching for his mother's love.
I can't explain how it happened. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the sympathy, or maybe I just wanted to taste something nice. My lips were on Lucian's, kissing his soft and juicy red.