Chapter 25 Chapter 25
Valentina
I thought he wanted to talk about something important. About us.
About this dangerous, magnetic thing pulling us toward each other like gravity with no mercy.
But I didn't expect him to mention my father.
The moment the word slipped from his mouth, something in my chest tightened. My eyes drifted away from him, toward the dim light on the far wall, anywhere that wasn't the shade of stormy blue fixed so intensely on me.
"What about him?" I asked quietly.
Lucien leaned back slightly, but his gaze didn't soften. "Don't dodge the topic, Valentina. You and I both know how much that affected you."
I let out a bitter, humorless laugh. It felt sharp in my throat. He talked as if he knew everything. As if he could reach into my chest and pull out every bruise I hid under layers of silence.
"As if you know me," I muttered.
Before I could turn away from him properly, he moved.
His fingers skimmed along my jaw and then gently, but firmly, turned my face toward his. The touch sent something molten spiraling down my spine. He held my gaze as if he was searching through me, searching for all the hurt I tried so hard to swallow.
"Valentina," he said quietly, the depth in his voice making my breath tremble. "You don't deserve the way he talks to you. You don't deserve to carry everything alone. You're not invisible. You're not something to be used and discarded. I need you to know that."
My throat tightened painfully.
God... why did he have to say things like that? Why did he have to look at me as if I mattered? As if he could see the girl I lost somewhere along the way?
My heart melted slowly, uncontrollably into something warm and dangerous.
No. No, I can't fall for him.
I am married to his father. Bound to a man whose last name I carry like a chain.
I forced myself to pull together a small smile. "Thank you," I whispered. It felt fragile. Not enough. Too much.
But neither of us pulled away.
We stayed there faces close, breaths touching, his hand still on my cheek like he didn't even realize he was holding me.
My eyes dipped to his lips before I could stop myself. And when I lifted my gaze again... He was staring at mine too.
The space between us shrink. Crackled. It made my pulse throb we leaned toward each other.
I felt the ghost of his breath.The warmth of his skin. The weight of the moment swallowing everything but him. Without thinking, I found myself leaning forward. Lucien did the same until our lips met.
The first brush of his mouth against mine sent a sharp, breathless jolt rushing through me heat, need, something dangerously close to desperation. Lucien’s fingers slid into my hair, deepening the kiss before I could even take another breath, pulling me closer as if he’d been waiting for this… haunting it… craving it just as badly as I had.
My hand landed on his chest as my body felt too light, too unsteady under the weight of what this meant. His heartbeat thudded against my palm, hard and fast, mirroring mine like we were caught in the same storm.
He angled his head, his lips moving with a demanding, intoxicating hunger that made my knees weaken even though we were both seated. His thumb stroked along my jaw, slow but possessive, guiding me deeper into the kiss.
A soft, helpless sound escaped me. He caught it with his lips and God, the way his breath hitched told me he felt it too.
Lucien pulled me even closer, his hand slipping to the back of my neck, his forehead brushing mine between kisses like he couldn’t stand a second of distance. The world outside the lounge disappeared. The house. The event. My father. My husband.
There was only him. Only this.
My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He exhaled against my mouth, “Valentina…”
The sound of my name broken, wanting sent a shiver racing down my spine.
But then, as suddenly as the storm began, his lips paused. His breathing was ragged. His hands were still holding me like he didn’t know how to let go.
His forehead rested against mine and voice came out strained, the restraint in it almost painful.
“We… need to stop,” he whispered, though he didn’t move an inch away. “If I keep kissing you like this… I won’t be able to pull back.”
God! Neither will I. He finally drew in a slow inhale, forcing space between us barely, but enough to feel the sudden cold where his warmth had been.
His thumb trembled as it slid one last time along my cheek before he dropped his hand.
“We should go,” he murmured. “Before I do something neither of us can undo.”
I don’t mind him doing that. And more.
He stood up slowly then he turned away and walked out of the lounge without looking back.
Leaving me breathless. Shaken. And wanting him more than I ever should.
The moment my bedroom door clicked shut behind me, I let my back press against it, the cool wood grounding me when my mind felt anything but steady. I dragged in a shaky breath, staring at the dim room that suddenly felt too quiet, too empty… too far away from him.
God, the kiss we share flashed through my mind those soft reminders of a past I keep pretending was a single reckless mistake. Except it wasn’t. Not when every cell in my body still reacts to Lucien like it has a memory of its own.
I closed my eyes, forehead tipping back against the door. I hated how much I craved him. How much I wanted more of what I should never want again. No matter how many times I whispered to myself to stay away, the truth pressed harder, louder.
I want him. Still. Always.
And it terrified me. Because if Lucien’s father ever found out… I wouldn’t just lose everything I’d be ruined. Erased. But why couldn’t I have happiness too? Why did mine always have to be the thing sacrificed? Why did loving him feel like choosing death, and staying away from him feel like choosing to stop breathing?
My fingers curled at my sides. The need sat like a pulse under my skin. Warm. Persistent. Impossible to ignore.
“Stop it,” I whispered to myself. “Just get in bed.”
But even as I said it, my feet were already pushing me away from the door, my hand turning the knob before my mind caught up. I stepped into the hallway, the soft glow of the sconces lighting each breathless step.
I checked both ends of the hall listening, watching, making sure no one was awake, no footsteps, no shadows moving. My heart punched against my ribs, not just from fear… but from the magnetic pull dragging me toward him.
Two turns. One quiet breath. And I was in front of his door.
I lifted my hand before I could second-guess myself and knocked—quick, quiet taps my lower lip caught between my teeth, nerves and want twisting together inside me. My heart thudded like it wanted out of my chest.
Then the door opened. And I forgot how to breathe.
Lucien stood there, bare-chested, droplets of water still clinging to his skin as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. His hair was damp, falling slightly over his forehead, and the heat rolling off him made something low in my stomach pull tight.
My gaze dragged over him before I could stop it, and the air left me in a shuddering breath I hoped he didn’t hear.
He didn’t say anything. Just held the door open quiet, commanding, dangerous in that way he never had to voice. I stepped inside, and the moment I crossed the threshold, he closed the door behind me with a soft click that echoed like a warning.
He turned toward me. I swallowed, my voice barely forming.
“I… I don’t think I can do this anymore,” I breathed, my chest rising too fast. “Can we just—”
But before the words were fully out, his hand wrapped around my wrist. In one swift, overwhelming pull, he switched our positions, my back hitting the wall, his body caging mine in heat and certainty. And then his lips crashed against mine.