Chapter 31 Safe With Him
The ride back is silent. I've completely zoned out, replaying the last hour—Kieran and I laughing over wine, then Lawrence bursting in, and me discovering he's a villain.
The bottle shattering, the cold glass at my throat, the gunshot, Kieran staggering, and falling to his death. Everything replays in my head.
My hand drifts to my neck, where the small cut stings under the plaster.
The first responders pressed it there while they checked my vitals and asked questions I barely heard. They wrapped me in a blanket, spoke in low, soothing tones, and told me I was safe now.
Safe.
Hearing the word feels strange because over an hour ago I'd thought I was.
Meanwhile, I'd been dining with a man who didn't have the best of intentions towards me.
A man who poured me wine and kissed me like he cared.
Who tricked me and used me and was who was straight-up evil.
A man who held a broken glass to my throat and threatened to take me down with him.
But still… I wouldn't have wished him dead.
Disgust churns in my belly when I remember I had plans of sleeping with him tonight.
Lawrence's arm is around me. It hasn't left since the terrace, resting protectively on my hip. The other strokes my hair gently.
I lean into him without thinking, my head on his shoulder.
Even Elias is worried. Every few minutes, I catch him glancing at me in the rearview mirror, looking concerned, before his eyes return to the road.
"I can call Beverly to come stay with you," Lawrence says, breaking the silence.
"No," I reply quickly, shaking my head against his chest. "No. I don't… I don't want to be alone."
"Of course," he says softly, tilting my chin to look up at him. "I'm sorry I even asked."
I don't respond, resting against him again.
The Maybach moves through the city, turning to the Upper East Side, towards a prestigious hotel.
When we pull into the private garage, Lawrence gets out first, comes around to my side, and opens the door.
I slide across the seat on shaky legs and take his hand. But as I stand, my legs wobble a little.
Lawrence catches me and scoops me up easily, one arm under my knees, the other around my back.
I gasp in surprise but don't complain, wrapping my arms around his neck because above everything else, it feels nice.
He carries me through the private elevator, up to his penthouse, without a word.
The doors open directly into his living room, a space too lavish and stunning, but I don't have enough time to study it as he carries me straight to the master bedroom.
Gently, he sets me on the edge of the massive bed with black and grey sheets.
I look up at him, still in his wrinkled shirt, and faint glitter in his hair, his eyes filled with exhaustion and something deeper.
And all I can think is... this man has had no rest until he made sure I was safe.
He could've waited to arrest Kieran some other day, but he didn't want me spending another second with him.
Lawrence kneels in front of me, placing his hands on my thighs.
"You're safe here," he says quietly. "I'll sleep in the guest room. You take the shower, get changed. There's a robe in the bathroom, and my shirts are in the closet if you want something to sleep in."
I nod appreciatively. "Thank you."
He looks like he wants to say more, but he stands and turns toward the door.
"Lawrence."
He stops.
"Can you stay, please? Till I..." I glance down shyly. "Fall asleep."
He turns back slowly.
"I don't want to be alone," I whisper. "Not tonight."
Something softens in his eyes. "Okay."
Lawrence moves to his wardrobe and fetches a black shirt. He strides towards me and hands it over. "Here. Go take a shower, and change into this."
"Alright."
He waits while I shower and get dressed in his shirt in the bathroom, which happens to be nearly as big as my bedroom.
His shirt is huge on me, but it smells like him. And I feel safe just wearing it.
When I step out, I find Lawrence still in his shirt and trousers.
He hasn't changed or showered, sitting on the bed with his shoes kicked off.
Something glints in his eyes when he sees me in his shirt, and I catch a faint tick in his jaw. But he clears his throat and helps me climb into bed.
Lawrence then leans his back against the large, fluffy pillows and pulls me to his chest.
"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" He asks softly against my hair.
"No," I whisper. "I'm fine."
He presses a kiss to the top of my head.
"Sleep," he whispers. "I'm right here."
For that while, I forget it's the same Lawrence Moore here with me, caring for me, holding me like I'm precious.
I close my eyes.
I don't know what tomorrow brings, especially after Kieran's death. But being here with Lawrence feels like it doesn't matter.
This time around, it feels like he won't walk away.
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The panic that crashes through me when I wake up alone in Lawrence's bedroom is so profound that it has me scrambling off the sheets and dashing through the hallway in nothing but his oversized shirt.
I find him in the living room, sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other with that casual grace of his, coffee mug in hand.
The morning news plays low on the massive wall-mounted TV.
The headline freezes me in place:
"Black Forge CEO Kieran Black Dead After Fatal Fall from Terrace"
My stomach lurches.
"Good morning," Lawrence says quietly.
His voice pulls my gaze back to him. He's in a casual light-blue button-down shirt
and dark slacks.
No glitter this time.
I miss the glitter. It humanised him in a certain way… made him less intimidating.
Lawrence looks relaxed and devastatingly handsome in the morning light spilling through the glass windows.
I wish I could wake up to this view more often.
Trying not to stare too long, I look away.
"Morning," I whisper, suddenly self-conscious because I'm still wearing his shirt.
He stands gracefully, striding toward the kitchen island where he drops the empty mug in the sink before turning back to me.
"How did you sleep?" he asks softly.
I follow him slowly, stopping at the opposite side of the island. "Pretty alright. Thank you."
He nods. "There's food." He gestures to the covered pots on the cooker and the fridge. "I had someone come in early to cook so you can have something to eat." He says it so casually, like it's normal. Like having a private chef prepare breakfast the morning after your almost-boyfriend-turned-villain tried to kill you isn't romantic at all.
"Thank you, Lawrence." I clear my throat.
I'd doubted him when he walked in on Kieran and me yesterday. I'd called him jealous and possessive when he was only there to show me the truth.
"I want to apologise to you for…"
"Forget it," he interrupts gently, stepping around the island until he's closer. "Let's just put this behind us, okay?"