Chapter 22 Chapter 22
Valentina
I felt like a sinner sitting there at the breakfast table. Husband at one side, son at the other... and yet all I could think about was Lucien. About the way he made me feel, the heat he stirred in me with just a glance, a touch, a word.
Ambrose had come back earlier than I expected, and now the whole family had gathered. Lucien was deep in conversation with him about some business matters, his voice was calm, professional. And yet, I couldn't stop my mind from wandering. I imagined his hands... where they weren't supposed to be, moving in ways I wasn't supposed to think about. My pulse quickened at the thought.
I tried to compose myself, sitting upright, fingers gripping the edge of my napkin. But Lucien's eyes didn't leave me, not even once, though his lips moved as he answered his father. My cheeks flushed. I had no idea how this had happened how the desire, the need, had skyrocketed in just a few days.
Mira jumped into the conversation, giggling at something Ambrose said, and the twins chimed in as well. Everyone seemed so normal, so... together. And there I was, feeling like an outsider, carrying a secret sin under the table that didn't feel like sin at all. It almost felt... right.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I barely noticed Ambrose's sudden pause and the way his eyes had settled on me. I snapped my head up, finally seeing him staring at me, and then Mira, the twins... even Lucien. He caught my glance and smirked ever so slightly, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
"Valentina," Ambrose said, voice patient but firm, "where is your mind right now?"
I swallowed, cheeks warming as I murmured, "My apologies."
He nodded slightly, and then asked, "How is work at the company lately?"
I focused on keeping my voice calm, neutral. "It's going well, thank you."
"Good," he said, a pleased nod. Then, leaning back slightly, he added, "We've been invited to an event... one of my partners is hosting. You should be there by 7pm prompt."
I glanced at Lucien, who hadn't missed a single word, his eyes now sharp, unreadable. Ambrose continued, "Lucien will drop you off he'll be there early, so he'll drive you."
I looked back at Lucien, meeting his gaze. There was that dangerous glimmer in his eyes, the one that made my chest tighten and my thoughts scatter. Slowly, I nodded, trying to keep my composure. "Okay," I said, though my heart betrayed me.
I slid into the car, clutch tight in my lap, trying to steady my racing heartbeat. The moment the door closed, Lucien's scent, strong, sharp, intoxicating wrapped around me like a vice. My pulse skipped, and I pressed my knees together, hoping he wouldn't notice the warmth spreading between them.
He didn't say a word as he started the car. I kept my eyes on the dashboard, pretending not to feel the weight of him beside me.
"Do you know that dress doesn't really suit you?"
My head snapped toward him."Excuse me?"
"Too revealing," he said casually, though I could feel the intensity behind his words. His eyes flicked to me, and I felt a shiver race down my spine.
"Seriously? I picked this carefully. It's... normal."
He let out a short, dangerous laugh. "Normal?" His gaze burned into me. "From here... it's doing a lot more than being normal. You don't even realize the effect you have."
"You're... crazy," I muttered, cheeks hot, fumbling to adjust my posture.
"I'm not," he said smoothly. "You have no idea how much control it takes not to—" His words trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging like a challenge.
I swallowed, gripping the edge of my clutch. Every nerve in my body was on fire, and I hated that he could do this to me without even touching me. My thoughts were a chaotic mess: him, his hands, the last time we'd been alone. My body betrayed me even as I tried to think rationally.
"You're impossible," I muttered, almost to myself.
"And yet," he said softly, "here you are. Sitting so calmly while I'm losing my mind beside you."
Calm. Me? Hardly. But how could I tell him that? How could I admit that every second with him, even just sitting here, was unbearable and thrilling all at once?
By the time we pulled up to the venue, my body was buzzing with tension I could barely control. Lucian's eyes had been glued to me the entire ride, and the heat between my legs reminded me, uncomfortably, just how much he affected me. I tried to steady my breathing, telling myself to focus, but the truth was, I could feel him in every nerve ending.
We stepped out of the car, and immediately his hand brushed mine. Not a touch, just the grazing of skin, but it sent sparks up my arm. He leaned close, voice low and dangerous.
"Better keep your eyes off other men," he murmured.
I shook my head, lifting my chin. "Do you forget I have a husband?"
His jaw tightened, a dark line cutting across his face. I knew he hated that reminder, hated that the idea of a husband existed between us, but it was reality.
Inside, the event was already buzzing with activity. Ambrose was there, deep in conversation with his business partner. I made my way over, forcing my composure back into place.
He didn't waste time in introducing me to his business partner.
I extended my hand. "Nice to meet you."
"I heard about your project," the man said, eyes sharp and impressed. "The estate handling it was a success. Excellent work."
I nodded, smiling politely, forcing my face to remain neutral. Meanwhile, Lucien hovered nearby, a glass in hand, but his gaze never left me. My stomach twisted, heat rushing through me, making it hard to focus.
As Ambrose continued talking, I turned slightly, and my heart almost stopped. My father was making his way towards us. Same cold, calculating eyes I remembered from the day he handed me over to Ambrose.
"Mr. Gabriel," Ambrose greeted formally, shaking my father's hand.
"You're here," my father said, voice clipped, his eyes flicking briefly to me. He didn't as much as say a word to me.
They exchanged polite words, business talk layered with tension I could feel creeping into my skin. I smiled through it, nodding, but my mind was spinning. Eventually, I excused myself under the guise of grabbing a drink.
I leaned against the table, the cool glass of water grounding me slightly, but not enough to stop the storm in my chest. Then, I felt a shadow fall over me.
"I expected more than this," my father's voice came from behind me.
I turned slowly, keeping my smile public, measured, polite.
"Do what I'm doing?" I asked, frowning.
"You're supposed to handle Ambrose. Stick with him at all costs."
I wanted to scream. Coming from someone who hadn't checked on the daughter he sold off, who hadn't even cared how I adjusted, it made my blood boil. My hands clenched at my sides, jaw tight. I wanted to say so much, but I swallowed it down, forcing a polite smile.
"You should be proving that I didn't make a mistake leaving you in that house."
"Proving you didn't make a mistake?" I whispered under my breath, my teeth grinding. "After everything, that's what you think of me? That I'm just some tool to show you weren't wrong?"
There wasn't any form of softness in his eyes. This kind of things make me wonder whether he was my real father. "You've always been soft, too soft to survive in this world without me guiding every step. I hoped Ambrose would sharpen you, but it seems even that was too much for you."
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, my hands shaking at my sides. I wanted to scream, to tell him what kind of father or rather, what kind of monster he was. The tears burned behind my eyelids, and I could barely keep my voice under control.
"You are doing just enough to keep appearances, but never enough to prove you belong. I expected more, Valentina. More than this pathetic display."
Tears pricked at my eyes, hot and angry. Without another thought, I bolted toward the restroom.
Inside, I stared at myself in the mirror. Why did life have to be this way? Why did I have to feel powerless? My father’s words burned me from the inside, leaving me raw and furious. I wiped the tears from my face, refusing to show weakness. Not here. Not now.
When I turned to leave, I froze when my eyes came face to face with Lucien. Jaw clenched, eyes rimmed with anger. And then the lock clicked behind him.
“What did he say to you?” He asked his voice low, possessive, and pissed