Chapter 146 146. You Protected Her

Chapter 146 146. You Protected Her
Fifteen months.
The words felt more like a victory and less of a sentence. A sob of pure relief broke from my chest, and for a second, I felt light enough to float right off the courtroom floor. It was over. I had faced the fire, and I hadn't been consumed.

"That's less than a year with good behavior, Camila," Rosalind whispered beside me, her hand squeezing my arm. "You’ll be home before you know it."
I nodded, hot tears stinging my eyes as I looked toward the gallery. My family was there, Silas, Seraphina, Damon, Rafael, and Maya who was a mess, clutching a handful of tissues, her shoulders shaking.

Then, my eyes landed on Lucien.

His face was a deep, mottled red. The veins in his neck and forehead were bulging, and his shoulders were hunched, his massive frame radiating a raw, volatile grief that he was clearly struggling to contain. He looked like he wanted to roar, or weep, or tear the judge’s bench from the floor.

"Hey," I called out, my voice thick with a laugh that turned into a sob. I caught his golden gaze and managed a wobbly, cutesy smile. "Eyes on me, big baby. Breathe! You're going to pop a vein and I need you in one piece when I get back!"
The absurdity of the comment in a room so solemn made a few people gasp, but I saw the shift in him. The corner of his mouth twitched, just for a fraction of a second, and he let out a long, shuddering exhale. The murderous tension in his shoulders dropped an inch.

"Time to go, Sterling," the bailiff muttered, reaching for my wrists. As the metal ratcheted shut, I looked at Lucien.

He mouthed the words I love you, his eyes burning with a promise that made the air in the room feel thin. I blew him a kiss. He caught it against his chest, his hand pressing over his heart.

I saw Rafael step up behind Lucien, placing a grounding hand on his shoulder. Thank God for Rafael.

The transfer to the minimum-security facility felt like moving from a dungeon to a college dormitory. There were no clanging steel doors here, no constant screaming or the smell of unwashed bodies. It was quiet, clean, and painted in soft neutrals that didn't scream "cage."

My new mate was waiting when they showed me to my room. Actual room, not a cell. It had a door that locked from the inside, two single beds with real mattresses, a small desk, and a window with bars but also a view of trees.

"Hi there." The woman stood from her bed, offering a smile. Late fifties, graying hair pulled back in a neat bun and reading glasses perched on her nose. "I'm Margaret. Tax evasion."

"Camila. Aggravated assault, but it was self defense."

"Good for you." She sat back down, picking up a book. "How long did you get?"

"Fifteen months."

Margaret chuckled. "Honey, with the way this place runs and clean record I assume you have, you’ll be out in six, maybe seven months on transition. It’ll go by in a blink. Trust me. I can tell it's your first crime ever."

I lay back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Six month. I could do that. I let the scent of fresh linen settle me as I closed my eyes.
For the first time in three weeks, my mind didn't feel like a war zone.

I closed my eyes and whispered into the darkness. "Wait for me."

Somewhere out there, I knew he was whispering back. "Always."



\--Lucien’s POV--

My hands still gripped around the steering wheel even though the engine was off. I couldn't move. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her in those scrubs, smiling at me while they led her away.

Images of her flashed through my mind like a movie I couldn't stop. I remembered the night she’d thrown up all over my dashboard after we'd just escaped the hit on us. I remembered racing through the city in the convertible, her auburn hair whipping in the wind and her laughter louder than the engine.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to the empty car, the words scratching my throat. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you from this, Fiera."

Eventually, the silence became too much. I drove to her apartment, the one place that still felt like her. As I stepped off the elevator, the security guard straightened up, bowing his head slightly.

"Mr. Hayes."

"Your services for Ms. Sterling is no longer needed," I began, but stopped, looking at the door to her home. "But you’ll stay. Your main focus is Maya Brooks now."

"Understood, sir."

Inside, the scent of vanilla and something spicy hit me. I heard voices from the kitchen and recognized them immediately. Maya and Rafael.
I headed straight for Camila’s bedroom, needing to be surrounded by her things, her scent, her presence.

"Lucien."

Maya's voice stopped me. I turned to find her and Rafael both watching me with worried expressions.

"We were just talking about you," Maya said gently. "Dinner's almost ready. Come eat with us."

"I'm not hungry," I resumed walking.

"Come on," she persisted. "I know you haven't eaten a real meal since Vienna. Camila would kick my ass if she knew I let you starve."

I stopped at her door. The mention of her name made my heart grate against my ribs. I turned to Rafael instead.
"What's up with Nadia and Rhys?"

"Everything is moving. I bribed a junior associate at Cipher for Rhys’s personal itinerary. He’s heading to a tech summit in Miami next week. He’s staying at the Fontaine. Nadia’s already booked the room next to his. She’s going to clone his devices the second he hits the hotel Wi-Fi. If his phone links to the main server or anything else, we’ll have everything."

"Good. Keep me updated every day."
I turned to go into the room.

"You protected her, Lucien." Rafael this time, and I stopped.

"In case you forgot, she's in a cell."

"She's in a cell because she chose to be. You gave her the power to make that choice. You took away the fear of the evidence hanging over her head. You didn't fail her, brother. You freed her."

My shoulders dropped as a long shaky breath left my lungs. That guilt didn't disappear, but it shifted.
"It's just too quiet," I admitted.

"And it won't stay quiet for long," Maya said gently. "She’s probably already lecturing her cellmate on dark romance tropes. Come eat, Lucien. Please."

"Fine." I sat in silence at first, the sound of their forks against the plates the only noise. But slowly, the conversation flowed. We talked about the plan for Miami, about the Ashfords, and eventually, the tension broke.

Then Rafael said something about how Camila would probably have the whole prison organized within a month, and Maya laughed.

"She'll be running a book club and teaching self defense classes by week two."

"Any inmate who tries to mess with her is going to learn real quick why Lucien calls her Fiera," Rafael added.

Despite everything, I felt my lips twitch. "She broke her cellmate's nose on day one. God help anyone who tries to get in her way."

"Of course she did." Maya grinned. "That's our girl."
I found myself sharing stories about Camila's fierce nature, her stubborn independence, the fire that made me fall in love with her in the first place.

By the time dinner ended, some of the crushing weight had lifted. Not much, but enough to breathe.

I retreated to her room and took a long shower, using her shampoo, letting the scent of it fill my senses until it felt like she was standing right there behind the curtain.
Not bothering with clothes, I climbed into her side of the bed, the silk sheets cool against my skin, and pulled her pillow into my arms.
It wasn't the penthouse, and it wasn't Vienna, but it was hers.

"Be safe, Fiera. Show them why you're mine. Show them the strength that made me fall to my knees. And come back to me."