Chapter 8 Chapter 8

Chapter 8 Chapter 8
Lucian

The moment my father told me I'd be the one picking Valentins up from work, I almost said no. Almost.

But I knew better than to argue with Ambrose Benedict when his tone left no room for discussion. So, I said nothing just gave a curt nod, pretending it didn't bother me. But it did. The thought of being around her every day, trapped in a car with her was the last thing I wanted.

She wasn't entirely innocent either. People liked to think she was some fragile thing my father married for convenience, but I'd seen that spark in her eyes the one that flared every time she talked back. The one that challenged me when she should've just kept quiet.

I told myself I was cold to her because I didn't care, because she was my father's wife, and that alone was enough to keep her at arm's length. But sometimes, when she snapped back at me, I caught myself watching her longer than I should.

It was annoying. She was annoying.

So, when she got into the car earlier, I'd decided I wouldn't say a word to her. Just drive her home and be done with it. But then she forgot to wear her seatbelt. Something about her carelessness about how she sat there, pretending I didn't exist itched under my skin.

"Seatbelt," I said, my tone coming out colder than I meant.

She shot me that irritated look, lips parting with that same defiance that always managed to crawl under my skin. "There's something called talking politely, you know?"

My jaw tightened. Of course she'd have something to say.

I could've ignored her. But when she kept going, throwing words at me like knives, calling me arrogant and spoiled, something in me snapped.

I turned to her slowly. Our eyes met, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. Her voice, her irritation. Just her and me, caught in a silence that felt too heavy, too charged.

When I leaned closer, it wasn't planned. My body just moved, as if drawn to her despite every warning in my head. Her breath hitched. I heard it, felt it. And for one reckless second, I wondered what would happen if I closed the space between us.

Instead, I reached past her, grabbed the seatbelt, and clicked it into place. The sharp sound of metal against metal broke whatever spell that was trying to form.

"Wouldn't want you flying through the windshield," I muttered, forcing my voice flat again.

This was exactly why I didn't want to be near her. Because every time I was, I forgot where the line was supposed to be.

The silence in the car stretched, thick enough to choke on. I could still feel the warmth of her breath from when I'd leaned close, close enough to smell the faint sweetness of her perfume.

I hated that I noticed. I hated even more that it lingered.

Valentina shifted in her seat, crossing her legs, clearly trying to steady herself too. "You didn't have to do that," she muttered.

"Do what?" I asked, eyes on the road.

"Act like I'm some kid who doesn't know how to take care of herself."

A humorless chuckle slipped from me. "Could've fooled me," 

She exhaled through her nose l annoyed, clearly but didn't reply. I caught her reflection in the window, jaw tight, lips pressed together like she was holding back everything she wanted to say. Maybe she was.

Good. Because if she spoke again, I wasn't sure I'd be able to hold my tongue either.

The car rolled to a stop at a red light, and for a moment, I made the mistake of glancing sideways. She was looking out the window, the city lights washing over her face. There was something about the way the light hit her skin too soft for someone I was supposed to stay detached from.

My father's wife. I repeated that in my head like a warning.

When the light turned green, I pressed the gas harder than necessary, needing the noise, the movement, something to pull me back from whatever that moment was trying to turn into.

The rest of the ride stayed quiet. No words, no glances. Just the sounf of the engine.

When I finally pulled up to the mansion, I cut the engine and didn't say a word. She's smart enough to know what to do. 

She reached for the door handle. But before she got out, she paused just briefly, "You should learn how to talk to people without sounding like you're allergic to basic manners."

I met her gaze. "You should learn how to stop expecting people to care."

Her lips parted like she wanted to respond, but she didn't. She just stepped out, heels clicking against the marble drive, her back straight, her head high as if she didn't just spend an entire car ride unraveling me piece by piece.

When the door shut behind her, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. She was trouble. And the worst part was she was going to put me into a whole lot of trouble in the coming days.

I stayed in the car for a while after she left, resting my arm on the wheel and lit up a cigarette. The night was quiet. Perfect time for business.

The phone rang once before a deep voice answered. "Boss."

"Where's the shipment?" I asked, exhaling a stream of smoke into the dark.

"Still at the dock. The contact from France wants to push the delivery forward by two days. Says Ambrose promised it himself."

Of course he did. My father was known for making promises on everyone's behalf especially mine.

"Tell him it'll move when I say it moves. And make sure the containers are sealed tight this time. I don't want another situation like the last one."

"Yes, sir. We've got men watching the customs officers too, in case anyone gets curious."

"Good." I flicked the ash out the window. "And Jax?"

"Yes?"

"If anyone from the Donelli family tries to stick their nose in our side of the port again, handle it quietly. I don't want blood in the papers. You know how Ambrose hates noise."

There was a small pause. "Understood."

I ended the call. Sometimes I wondered if this life was worth it. But the thought never lasted long. It was all I'd ever known. All my father ever built me to be.

I stepped out of the car and walked inside.

The dining room was half lit, quiet except for the sound of plates being cleared. The maids bowed their heads in respect. I didn't say anything. I never did.

Hell, I couldn't even remember half their names. Didn't matter. They weren't my type, and I didn't mix business with pleasure.

I kept things simple clean. One night, one deal. Money on the table, silence after.

But lately... I hadn't bothered with anyone. Not since—

I stopped that thought before it could form.

Instead, my mind dragged up a different image. Her face. Valentina's.
Those sharp eyes, that soft mouth, the way she looked back at me like she wasn't afraid to get burned.

I ran a hand over my jaw and muttered a curse under my breath. She was my father's wife. Off limits. Untouchable. And still the image of my hand wrapped around her neck and making....No. I wasn't going there.

I stripped off my jacket, tossed it on the bed, and headed for the shower. The cold water hit my skin hard, washing away the scent of smoke and sin. 

By the time I stepped out, I felt cleaner than before. I went downstairs in a black T-shirt and sweatpants, thinking only about getting a bottle of whiskey.

Valentina was standing by the counter, cutting an apple, hair falling messily around her face. She looked up, startled when I stepped in eyes wide, knife in hand like I'd caught her doing something wrong.

There was something strangely disarming about the sight so ordinary, yet it didn't fit her at all. She didn't belong in this cold, lifeless house. Maybe that's what made her stand out so much.

I shut the fridge door with a dull thud, the whiskey bottle cold in my hand. When I turned, she was still there eyes on me, knife still gripped like she wasn't sure whether to drop it or use it.

For some reason, that made me smile. Barely. 

"This is your chance," I said, my voice low, rough from the silence. "No one's around. You could stab me, and no one would even hear it."

Her brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across her face.

I leaned against the counter, unscrewed the cap, pour in a glass and took a slow sip, keeping my gaze fixed on her.

I didn't know where the maids had vanished to probably tucked away in their quarters.

And then there was Valentina slicing apples at midnight. Not eating them, just cutting, piece after piece, as if she needed something to keep her hands busy.

"Couldn't sleep?" I finally asked, though I wasn't sure why I cared to ask.

"Not that it's any of your concern."

I felt the corner of my mouth twitch.
"You think too highly of yourself."

I let my eyes linger on her hand, on the tension in her wrist, then met her gaze.

"You could actually put that knife to more use," I said eyes flickering to the knife back to her. 

I could see the pulse in her throat, quick and uneven, and for some reason, it made something dark in me stir.

"Why would I do that?" 

I tilted my head slightly, stepping closer until the space between us felt electric. Why the fuck did I do that. "Because you look like you want to."

I took the knife gently from her hand, fingers brushing hers. The contact was brief, but it burned through me all the same. I twirled the knife once, studying the reflection on the blade before I spoke.

"You know, it's strange," I murmured. "How people wear masks so easily. Pretend their families are spotless when underneath... everything's filthy."

She frowned, confused but wary. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll understand soon enough. Rot always finds its way to the surface."

Her whole expression changed eyes flaring, fists curling tightly at her sides. "If you've got something to say, say it. Stop talking in riddles."

A voice was telling me to stay back but my body wouldn't listen. I don't know why I was acting like a dumb person that was being controlled. By this woman. My father's wife. 

"You might not like the truth when you finally see it."

She stared up at me, fire in her eyes, like she was one second away from slapping me or kissing me. Would have wanted the latter.

Then she pushed past me, the scent of her perfume brushing my skin as she stormed out.

The knife clattered against the counter. The apple was forgotten.

I stood there, watching her disappear. What the hell was she doing to me?