Chapter 48: Strings Attached

Chapter 48: Strings Attached


The first thing Eve felt was the sheets.
They were softer than silk, warm against her bare skin, but what struck her most was the smell. Smoke. Not the kind that clung after fire, but the kind that lingered after him — sharp, masculine, woodsy, unmistakable. Lucas.
She inhaled without meaning to, the scent seeping into her lungs, making her chest rise and fall faster.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment she forgot where she was. The bedroom was unfamiliar: walls a deep charcoal grey, the window curtains half-drawn to let in muted morning light. A single armchair stood in the corner with a neatly folded suit jacket draped over it. No clutter. No warmth. Just control.
It wasn’t Daniel’s.
It was Lucas’s.
Last night came back to her in flashes that set her heart racing. His mouth on hers, his hands pinning her wrists, his voice whispering things that made her tremble. Heat spread through her even as guilt coiled in her stomach.
Her pulse stuttered when she finally saw him.
He wasn’t beside her in bed. He was across the room, seated in the armchair, one leg crossed over the other. A mug of coffee rested easily in his hand, his gaze fixed on her as though he had been watching her wake the entire time.
No softness. No awkwardness. Just him, calm and unreadable.
The silence pressed against her until she finally broke it. “You’re just… sitting there?”
Lucas took a slow sip of coffee before answering, his voice low, deliberate. “Observing.”
Her mouth went dry. “Observing what?”
The corner of his lips curved faintly — not a smile, but something sharper. “How long it takes for regret to set in.”
Her breath hitched. She pulled the sheets closer to her chest, as if they could shield her from his gaze. “I don’t regret it.”
But her voice faltered at the end, betraying her.
Lucas caught it. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying her like prey pretending not to be caught in the snare. “Good,” he murmured. “Because regret makes people sloppy.”
The ride back was quiet.
He insisted on driving her himself. No driver, no witnesses, just his black car gliding through the morning city streets. Eve sat rigid in the passenger seat, sunglasses covering the shadows beneath her eyes, fingers twisting nervously in her lap.
Lucas, however, was at ease. One hand on the wheel, the other resting casually, his profile calm as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
Just as they neared her building, he slowed the car and turned slightly toward her. His cologne wrapped around her again, intoxicating.
“Eve,” he said softly, but there was steel beneath the silk of his tone.
She turned to him, her throat tight.
“Last night changes everything,” he murmured, leaning just close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath. “Don’t forget that.”
Her heart thumped painfully against her ribs. She pushed the door open and stepped out quickly, afraid if she lingered she might lean in again.
But his words stayed with her. Haunting. Possessive. A brand on her skin.
All day at the office, she felt it.
His presence. His control.
Daniel noticed too.
At the boardroom table, Eve sat beside him, her pen poised but unmoving. Lucas sat across, flipping through documents with focused indifference, as if she wasn’t there. But she could feel his eyes on her — or maybe it was the weight of memory, making her shift in her chair.
When Daniel touched her hand under the table, she flinched. Too quickly.
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she whispered, forcing a smile, but her voice cracked.
Later, over coffee in his office, Daniel studied her more closely. “Where were you last night? I didn’t see you when I came home.”
Her pulse raced. Her hands tightened around the cup.
“I… I couldn’t sleep. Went for a drive.”
A lie, sharp and clean, but Daniel’s eyes lingered on her too long. Doubt clouded them.
Does he know? The thought gnawed at her all afternoon.
By evening, her paranoia consumed her. She deleted texts, checked her phone obsessively, deleted them again. Every time Lucas glanced her way during meetings, she felt exposed, naked beneath her suit.
Why does it feel like he owns me now?
Far from the glass walls of Lockwood Industries, another man watched.
Alexander.
He stood in the shadows of the abandoned dock where he often conducted his business, the skyline glimmering faintly in the distance. One of his men lingered nearby, waiting.
Alexander’s eyes narrowed as he spoke, voice cool, measured. “She thinks she’s playing a game, seducing her way into control.”
He lit a cigar, the glow illuminating his sharp features.
“But Lucas?” He exhaled smoke, smirking. “Lucas is playing for keeps.”
That night, Eve’s phone buzzed.
One message.
From him.
Come to me.
She sat on her bed, staring at the words, her body warring with her mind. Every nerve screamed danger, every instinct whispered to delete it. But her fingers betrayed her.
She went.
When she entered his apartment, her breath caught.
She expected him to pull her close, to kiss her again with that same fire that had undone her last night. But he didn’t move toward her.
Instead, he sat at his desk, laptop open, the dim glow casting his face in half-shadow. He didn’t speak at first. Just looked at her. Waiting.
Then, with deliberate calm, he pressed a key.
The screen came alive.
Her heart stopped.
There she was. On the bed. The sheets tangled, her body arched beneath him, her moans filling the silent room. Every desperate touch. Every whispered plea. Captured. Recorded.
The blood drained from her face.
“Lucas…” Her voice was a whisper of horror. “What is this?”
He didn’t answer immediately. He closed the laptop slowly, the click of it shutting louder than any shout.
When his eyes met hers again, they gleamed with possession.
And he said, almost tenderly, “Now you finally understand… you belong to me, Eve. Completely.”
Eve staggered back, her legs trembling, realization sinking like ice into her veins. She thought she was winning. She thought she was free. But Lucas had caged her without chains, without walls — with one single recording.
And there was no escape.