Chapter 17 I'm Not Soff
\-Lucien-
What a mess I made, I thought, standing in the kitchen.
The cake was still sitting on the table, untouched, but the cookies... all gone, as if they had never been here last night, laughing at me. I could still hear the echo in my head: She left you. She dumped you with a box of cookies.
Then I thought of Celeste, of how close she'd come to being hit by the vase. I walked up to her bedroom, raised my hand to knock but I stopped myself midair. I went to Jackson's place instead.
\---
"You did what?" Jackson asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
I leaned back against the couch, hands buried in my hair, wishing I hadn't come here in the first place.
"How is she doing?" he asked, a little cold this time.
I didn't answer. How could I? I didn't even know if she was alright.
Jackson studied me with a deep frown. "You don't even know if she's okay?!"
"I... I don't." I forcibly admitted.
His eyes flickered with something for a moment, like he really understood. "You can't just let this slide, Lucien. She could've gotten hurt. That's... not small."
I ran a hand over my face. "She'll survive."
He let out a small sigh, clearly frustrated by my actions, and perhaps my presence.
"Maybe you should tell her," he suggested.
"No," I replied flatly.
Another sigh. "Why are you so afraid? Should I tell her myself?" he offered.
"None of my business, Jackson." I murmured. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't dare.
"Why are you acting like you don't care? First, you buy an entire building so she can keep her cake shop."
My jaw clenched for no particular reason.
He let out a dry laugh. "Then you put up a restraining order against the press, leave an investor meeting just to save her from her own drunken self, and still, you act like she means nothing to you." He paused, letting the words sink in. "She's not your father, or Bianca-"
"That's enough Jackson, I didn't come here for a lecture!" I spat.
He threw his arms up in the air, as he walked off. "What now?" he asked, leaning casually against the counter with his arms crossed.
What was I supposed to say?
"You know," he continued, almost as if something amused him. "In a way, you're... softer than you've ever been. And you hate that, don't you?"
I lifted my head with a frown. "Don't start."
He smirked, letting the words sit in the air. "Don't start?" His eyes burned with anger. "Lucien, you've always had... a reputation. Women feared you, wanted you. But now? You're married, and you haven't even touched your wife yet. That's not the man I know."
I tensed. "I'm not soft."
He chuckled. "Maybe not. But I've noticed. Since she arrived, you've changed. You're... distracted. Restless. You haven't acted like yourself this entire time-not the way you used to. Not the way... the city whispers about."
I looked away, irritated. "I have reasons."
Jackson leaned closer, eyes glinting. "Do you? Or are you pretending she doesn't affect you? Pretending you're still untouchable?"
I swallowed hard. He was right. I had felt the pull, the way my chest constricted when I thought of her.
Jackson's smirk widened further. "She's different, isn't she?"
I said nothing.
"Exactly," he straightened. "You deny it because admitting it makes you... vulnerable. But you're far from weak. And you know it. You can't resist her. That's why you haven't even tried to fight it yet."
I clenched my fists, restless, fighting the things his words inside me.
But Jackson's eyes didn't leave mine. "You know what you're holding back, right? And you're fighting it."
"I'm not holding back anything," I muttered, though the words sounded false.
He chuckled again, this time like he knew something I didn't. "Then, why are you restless? Why are you thinking about her? Why does it feel like you're losing control?"
I stiffened. Damn I hated this.
His tone softened, almost like he was speaking to a younger version of me. "She's not just any woman. And you know it. You see her, and all your control, all your plans, all your armor breaks. She's special, Lucien. You can deny it, but you know it."
I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Instead, I got on my feet. I didn't need this, the truth digging underneath my skin.
"I should go." I murmured. With that, I turned and walked out of his apartment.
That bastard, he saw right through me like I was glass.
By the time I made it home, I had already decided to avoid her. Stay away. Put distance between us, except she was there waiting for me.
She was in the living room, hands folded, eyes lifting to meet mine the second I walked in. She looked like she'd been holding her breath. Like she wasn't sure if I'd come back at all.
"Lucien," she began softly. "About yesterday-"
Her voice trembled, and something in me snapped. Jackson's words came back, poking at me. She's different.
I should have walked away. Instead, I stayed. "Cookies," I bit out, the word felt like something sour in my mouth. "They remind me of the day my mother left me... I was six when she left me on my father's porch. With a box of cookies." My jaw clenched until it hurt. "I never saw her again."
Her lips parted, her eyes widening with disbelief. There it was, the pity I so detested.
"Lucien... I didn't know. I'm sorry. If I'd-"
She stood and stepped closer, speaking softly, as if she could calm me. I couldn't take it, her pity, her apology, her softness, and something in me gave way. And the distance I'd fought for all week came crashing down.
My hand shot out, fingers snaking around her wrist, dragging her closer until I could see the fear she should have felt, but didn't.
"Don't," I warned, though the word was meant for me as much as her. Don't look at her mouth. Don't want what you swore you wouldn't touch without restraint.
But I was already gone.
I leaned in, crushing my mouth against her, shutting her up the only way I knew how. She gasped, but she didn't pull away. And that ruined me.
I pulled back just long enough to breathe, pressing my forehead to hers as my hands slid under her shirt, rough against her soft skin.
"I apologize," I murmured, my voice low and husky, "for what I'm about to do to you."