Chapter 46 46. Lily
Lucien's POV
"What?" Jessica's face crumpled.
"Pack your things. Rafael will let you stay at his place until yours is repaired." Each word came out steady and final.
"Lucien..."
"Now."
Rafael stepped forward. Jessica's tears came harder now, and for once, they looked real. Good. She should feel something for what she'd done to Lily.
Footsteps on the stairs drew my attention. Camila appeared, descending slowly, wearing gray sweats and my black shirt. She'd been taking my clothes for weeks without mentioning, and something in my chest pulled tight every time I saw her in them. Like she was marking herself without realizing it.
I loved that. Maybe that was why I hadn't bought her new clothes in a while.
"What's going on?"
"Jessica was just leaving," I said.
Jessica spun toward her. "This is your fault! You poisoned him against me!"
"Enough." The word cracked through the air. Jessica flinched.
"This is the height of it," I said, my voice cold. "Manipulating a child, starving her for a day, blaming it on Camila-" My jaw tightened. "You're pathetic. You were never like this, but if this is who you've become, then whatever we had is over. You pull one more stunt affecting Lily, and I'll get the authorities involved."
"Lucien, wait..." Her voice broke.
I turned my back on her. "Rafael-"
"Wait."
The small voice stopped me. Lily, pale and unsteady, clutching her stomach like shd might collapse.
"I'm hungry."
Every thought vanished, replaced by a single, desperate intention. In seconds, I caught her before she could fall.
"Come here, sweetheart." I lifted her. She felt too light. "Camila, can-"
"Already on it." She was already moving, pulling open cabinets, her hands working fast to fix Lily a meal.
I set Lily on the counter, brushed damp curls from her forehead. Her skin felt clammy.
"How do you feel?"
"Everything's spinny," she whispered.
"We'll fix that."
"Lily, you know I'm not your daddy, right?" I asked gently.
Her eyes filled. "Mommy said to say it. But can't you be my daddy? I want a daddy."
The words were a gut-punch. It killed me to break her heart, but she needed the truth.
"I can be your friend," I said softly. "Even though I'm not your dad, I care about what happens to you. You're a good kid. Sweet. If you ever need a safe place, you can call me. Understand?"
"Really?"
"Really. You can call me Uncle Lucien."
"Uncle Lucien," she repeated, smiling faintly.
"That's right."
Camila handed me the bowl. Our fingers brushed, a spark shooting up my arm. Her eyes met mine for a brief second before she looked away, but I saw the softness she tried to hide.
Lily ate like she hadn't seen food in days. Camila stood beside me, resting her hand on my shoulder - just a light touch, but I felt it down to my bones.
When the bowl was empty, Lily's eyes drooped.
"Can I sleep with you tonight? Please, Uncle Lucien?"
I hadn't slept in my room since Camila took it over. I knew without her saying she wasn't ready for me there.
"Only if you convince Camila to join us," I said, watching her face.
"Hey!" Camila's eyes flashed.
"Please?" Lily turned those golden eyes on her. Camila's resistance crumbled in real time.
"Sure," she muttered. "Let's all do that."
Lily squealed and hugged her. "Thank you!"
I glanced at Jessica one last time. "Would you like to eat?"
She didn't answer. I didn't care.
"Come on." I lifted Lily, felt her relax against me. "Bedtime."
The bedroom felt wrong with both of them in it. Wrong in a way that made my pulse jump. Camila moved like she was crossing enemy lines, while Lily bounced on the mattress.
"This bed is huge!"
"It is," I said, settling against the headboard. Camila sat on the far side, phone in hand, keeping Lily between us like a wall.
"Story?" she asked.
"Yes!"
Camila pulled up an ebook and started reading. Her voice wrapped around the words, low and soft, pulling even me in. I watched her mouth form each syllable, the way her hand absently stroked Lily's hair, the way she gradually leaned back until her shoulder rested against me.
Lily's breathing slowed first, her small body going still. But Camila kept reading, lost in rhythm, her warmth pressed against my chest.
I reached across Lily's sleeping form and touched her hand. "She's out."
Camila startled, pulling back slightly. "Oh. I didn't realize."
"You also didn't realize you were using me as a pillow."
Her cheeks flushed. "I wasn't-"
"You were," I said quietly. "It's fine. It's not our first time sharing a bed. Though it's your first time acting like this."
"Like what?"
"Nervous and scared."
She looked away. "That was different."
"Different because you're scared of what you feel now?"
"Stop it." There was no heat in it. "This is still just... physical. Nothing more."
"Right. Just physical." I caught her hand again, thumb brushing her pulse. "That's why you're shaking."
"I'm not-"
"You are." I traced around her pulse point, watching her pupils dilate. "Why won't you trust me?"
"Because I can't." I felt the raw honesty in her words. "You're dangerous, Lucien. You always will be. I'd be insane to fall for you just because you're good-looking and good at this." She gestured weakly between us.
I held her wrist, firm but gentle. "You think that's all this is?"
"Isn't it?" Her voice wavered.
I studied her face. The walls, the fear behind her eyes. She wasn't afraid of me. She was afraid of herself.
"You changed something in me," I said quietly. "Made me want things I didn't even know I could want."
"Lucien..." She shook her head, trying to pull away.
"I'm not asking you to say anything back. I'm just telling you the truth." My thumb pressed into her racing pulse. "You can keep pretending this means nothing, but we both know you'll be confessing your feelings for me in less than two weeks."
Her breath caught. Her fingers tightened around mine, then she wrenched away, turning her back and curling into herself.
"Don't forget," she said quietly. "You promised I could resume work after Ronan's event."
I stared at the curve of her back, her fiery hair. I leaned in and pressed my lips to it, absorbing her essence: vanilla and the subtle, indefinable fragrance that was only hers.
"I remember."
She went still but didn't pull away. A minute later, her breathing slowed. I stayed awake, watching her until sleep dragged me under.
The blue dress moved like water over her body, clinging and flowing in all the right places. I couldn't look away.
"You're staring too much," she said.
"Can you blame me?"
A dangerous smile curved her lips. She walked past me, and it took everything I had not to reach for her.
We arrived late. She'd been sick all morning from last night's shrimp. The premiere was already underway when we got there. Cameras flashed. The crowd screamed.
Ronan's film was brilliant, I hated to admit. The kind of success I didn't want him having.
At the hotel, Camila changed into a sleek white that made her look ethereal, then we returned to the after-party.
The ballroom was packed with people I had no interest in.
Jessica. Lucas Chen. Don. I ignored them all.
Ronan stood near the front, deep in conversation with an older man whose aura screamed old money, political connections, the kind of power that could bury problems.
I needed to hear that conversation
"Dance with me," I said.
She raised an eyebrow. "You don't dance."
"Tonight I do."
I pulled her onto the floor, steering us closer to Ronan. A singer's voice filled the room, smooth and slow. Camila's hand settled on my shoulder, mine on her waist. We moved, and looking into her eyes, I forgot I was there to eavesdrop.
Then the music cut out. Feedback shrieked through the speakers.
Camila went still in my arms.
I followed her gaze to the stage - a woman stood under the spotlight, eyes locked on Camila like she'd found her prey.
"Well, I have a story for the crowd today..."