Chapter 27 Chapter 27
Valentina
I typed back into the sisters' group chat, still half-smiling at whatever dramatic line Violeta had dropped a second ago.
Valentina: You're insane. And no, I'm not doing that. Not today, at least.
Violeta was asking me to prepare a nice meal for Ambrose to bond with him. It seems they don't have an idea on the what all this is all about.
When my mind was on someone completely different. Lucien. Thinking about last night still makes my skin ting. Like I didn't know how I got the courage to walk up to his room. But then again I don't regret it.
I was about to add a second message when a knock tapped softly against my office door.
"Come in," I called, already straightening the papers on my desk.
Lydia stepped inside, perfectly neat as always, holding a slim folder. "Ma'am, these need your signature before noon."
I nodded and took it from her. "Thank you. What's my schedule for lunch?"
"You have a twelve-thirty check-in with the interior team, then a quick briefly on our Chinese investors. After that, your calendar is open."
"Good. Perfect, actually." I nodded again, dismissing her gently. "Thanks, Lydia."
She gave a polite smile and slipped out, closing the door behind her.
The room fell quiet again. I reached for my phone, expecting another message from my sisters probably Violeta asking why I wasn't typing a paragraph like I always did. However I was met with a message from the one I didn't expect. Lucien.
For a moment, I just stared at the notification like it might burn me. It was ridiculous how fast my pulse picked up, how sharply last night flashed behind my eyes. His hands. His mouth. The way I completely forgot how to breathe.
I dragged my finger across the screen and opened the message.
LUCIEN: Are you busy?
Simple. Too simple for the way it made my chest tighten.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard before typing back.
ME: Not really. Why?
I barely had time to set the phone down before another vibration hit the desk.
LUCIEN: I want to see you.
God. I swallowed, heat creeping up my neck. I typed slowly, trying to look composed even though my heartbeat was anything but.
ME: Here? At the office?
What was I saying? It's not like he will see me anywhere at that moment.
A pause. Three dots appearing, disappearing, reappearing.
LUCIEN: Yes.
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a slow breath I didn't know I'd been holding. My body reacted before my mind even caught up, a low sound waking under my skin.
Why did he have this strong effect on me? Before I could spiral too far, my phone buzzed again.
Lucien: I can wait until you're done with work. But I'd rather not.
I pressed my lips together to hold back the smile threatening to form. I can practically picture his brows furrowed in that arrogance. Always the one with control.
Of all the people in my life, he was the only one who didn't demand anything... yet somehow made me want to give.
My fingers ran across the screen, typing slower this time, aware of every word.
Me: Come up
I hit send before I could second-guess it.
Then I set the phone down, exhaled, and tried failed to calm the flutter tightening low in my stomach.
"Get it together," I muttered to myself, running my hands over my hair, smoothing my blouse, pretending I wasn't suddenly hyperaware of every breath I took.
But who was I kidding? Lucien was coming. And after last night... I wasn't sure I knew how to be untouched around him anymore.
A second later, my office door opened without a single knock like he had every right in the world to walk in on me anytime he pleased.
And honestly? It felt like he did.
He stepped inside, tall and devastatingly composed, dressed in a dark shirt that hugged him too well. His eyes locked on me the second the door shut behind him... and then he reached back and flicked the lock.
He lowered himself into the chair directly in front of my desk, leaning back slightly, legs spread, hands loose on the armrests as if settling into a throne.
I tried to act normal, to pretend I wasn't two seconds from forgetting how to breathe. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, reached for a pen I didn't need, anything to distract from the heat crawling up my spine.
But he didn't move. He just kept staring at me.
"Why are you staring at me like that? Is that why you're here?" I finally asked, my voice embarrassingly quieter than I intended.
His gaze dragged slowly from my lips to my throat, then lower... before meeting my eyes again. Every movement making heat to creep up my skin.
"Because, I'm imagining how I'd bend you over this desk."
"I keep picturing it," he continued, tone still maddeningly calm. "You, bracing against the wood... trying to stay quiet even though I'm fucking you so deep you can barely think."
Heat shot straight down my spine, pooling low in my stomach. My thighs pressed together instinctively under the desk, and his eyes flicked downward catching the movement, savoring it.
He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees. Controlled. Intent. Every inch of him screaming possession.
"And the worst part?" he murmured. "I walked in here and it got harder not to do it."
I swallowed, hard. My pulse thundered in my ears as he tilted his head, studying me like he already knew every reaction I'd have before I made it.
"Say something, Valentina," he said softly. "Or I might assume you want me to do exactly what I'm thinking."
My fingers tightened around the pen. I tried to hold on to whatever composure I had left.
But Lucien… he didn’t give me enough space to form a single clear thought.
Slowly, I forced my eyes up to meet his. “Why… why exactly are you here? Is it just to tease me? Or turn me on on purpose?”
His lips twitched just barely. Not a smile. Something darker.
“That’s part of it,” he admitted unbothered. “Watching you get flustered does things to me you don’t even want to know about.”
My pulse stuttered.
“But that’s not why I came. I came because the idea of you spending your whole day pretending last night didn’t shake you…annoys the hell out of me.”
Heat rippled down my spine. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
“And because, I wanted to see your face when you realized I’m not done with you.”
My hand went weak around the pen. Lucien’s gaze dragged slowly across my features, down my throat, lingering like a touch.
“So tell me,” he murmured, head tilting, “do you want me to stop teasing?”
I could barely hold it anymore.
“Or do you like it more than you want to admit?”