Chapter 30

I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard.

Tyler, dead.

And worst of all — he was killed.

The world tilted under me. I would’ve gone straight to the floor if Sebastian hadn’t caught me. He steadied me, muttered something calm and forgettable, and before I could think, I’d already grabbed the phone I dropped.

“Francesca? Are you there?” Aria’s voice cracked through — raw, and frightened.

“What happened?” My throat stung, tears burning at the edge of my eyes.

“I don’t know. No one knows. I just saw it this morning.” Her words trembled, breaking halfway through.

Tyler was… a lot of things. Arrogant, selfish, annoying, impossible to love for too long. But he was Aria’s only real friend — her shadow, her laughter, her trouble. For all his bullshit, he made her feel less alone. I couldn’t imagine how she must’ve felt hearing it.

“Oh my God… What about Precious?” My voice came out sharp, panicked. Precious was fragile. Too soft for this kind of world. This would break her even though they're no longer together.

“I don’t know. I tried calling her but she isn’t picking up.”

“This is bad, Aria. Really bad.” I paced the room, half-dressed, the cold air crawling up my bare thighs. “Do you think this has something to do with me? I saw him yesterday — we argued — I sent him away. How is he dead?”

There was silence, heavy like wet cloth. Then:

“Where did you see him?”

“The same place. Hudson’s yard.”

“What the fuck were you doing at Hudson’s yard?!”

Her voice peaked — sharp enough to slice through me.

“Hey, don’t yell at me. I’m sure no one saw me.”

“Tyler did.”

“That’s because I went to meet him myself.”

“Oh my God, Francesca.”

“It’s okay, Aria. I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to him, since he broke up with Precious. He almost got into a fight with Lucian and—”

“It’s not okay!” she snapped, her voice trembling. “Not until you come home. And wait—Lucian was with you?”

“Yes. I needed to draw him out before Dad—”

“Lucian fought with Tyler?”

“Not a fight exactly, Tyler was just being—”

“Oh no.”

“Don’t think that,” I cut her off immediately, knowing where her mind was heading. “Lucian didn’t do it.”

“How do you know?” Her voice broke into sobs again.

I bit my lip. I didn’t know. Not really.

We were together the whole day — except for two hours. He’d disappeared, he came back different. Distant. I’d tried not to think about it. But now, every quiet second he spent, every odd look, every calm word — all of it began to twist in my head. Even I knew Lucian wasn't as calm and inviting, I'd seen things in his eyes, and I knew more than anyone how dangerous he could be, but I told myself it was nothing, and I honestly want to believe it, I wished he wasn't what I thought he was.

“It wasn’t him,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. “He couldn’t have.”

“Francesca, please come home,” she cried, her voice dropping low. “That guy is dangerous.”

Her pain hit me hard. Tyler’s death wasn’t just news — it was a wound bleeding through all of us. Aria, Precious, even me. And despite everything, she was right. I needed to come home.

“Alright,” I said softly, “I’ll be home soon. Just… have to get new clothes.”

“What the fuck?”

“No, wait, that’s not what I—”

“What the fuck?!”

“I woke up this morning and couldn’t find my clothes!” That sounded worse.

She groaned, frustrated. “What the hell, Francesca—”

“Never mind. Just—why didn’t they attack yesterday?”

“Dad called it off. Said he had something important to do.”

“Okay. I’ll be home soon.”

I hung up and rushed to the bedroom.

“Sebastian?” I yelled, tearing through the sheets, looking under the bed. “Where are my clothes?”

He poked his head from the kitchen, unbothered. “Lucian threw them away. Said he’d get another one.”

I froze. Of course he did. I knew he probably took them off, but hearing it out loud… God. My face went hot.

I pressed my palm to my forehead. “I need to leave right now. What the hell am I going to wear?”

“You should probably wait for him,” Sebastian called back.

“Yeah, sure,” I muttered, rummaging through the wardrobe.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Precious. Straight to voicemail.

“Pick up, come on…” Nothing.

I bit back tears. I needed to be with them. Even though I was half-naked, confused. After trying so hard to get away from them, all I needed was to be there for them now . Especially now.

Finally, I found an oversized pair of brown trousers and one of his cream-striped shirts. I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to leave.

I took a quick shower, brushed my hair, and stepped out —hair still dampa and still lost in thought — until I felt someone’s shadow block the light.

Lucian stood there, holding a shopping bag.

We stared at each other for what felt like forever.

I was naked, frozen mid-step like a thief caught lacking, and he was just still, staring back at me, completely unreadable.

My heart stopped, twice. Then I bolted back into the bathroom, trying my hard not to slip on the tiles.

“Why are you running?” His calm voice drifted in.

I covered my face that'd gone red, crouched beside the tub like a cornered cat.

“I have seen you bare twice,” he said, his tone soft, almost gentle. “You should not feel shame.”

He walked closer, draped a towel over me like it meant nothing, then left.

I followed him out a minute later, wrapped up and mortified.

“Your clothes were destroyed,” he said. “So I got you new ones.”

He held them out proudly, like a child showing his art project.

I blinked, still clutching the towel.

“I also got these. I did not know your size.”

He reached into the bag again — and pulled out at least fifteen pairs of bras and panties.

If this was a different situation, I’d laugh. Instead, I nodded like an idiot.

“You’re supposed to leave and let her change,” Sebastian called from the living room.

“Oh.” Lucian blinked, nodded, and stepped out.

I got dressed quickly — he’d actually done well. The shirt fit almost perfectly. Almost, the texture and quality still felt a little off, but those were the least of my worries.

When I finally came out, he was waiting. Still.

“Hey,” I muttered.

“You were right,” he said. “There were people around last night. But they left after a while. Thank you.”

I just nodded and brushed past him toward the elevator. I wanted to see if he’d stop me.

“You are leaving”

Something inside me tightened. Maybe I wanted him to ask that. Maybe I wanted him to care. Maybe I wanted him to stop me and ask me to stay again like he did the night before. Or maybe I just wanted to stay despite everything in me telling me not to.

“Tyler is dead,” I said, turning halfway toward him. The sunlight behind him made it impossible to read his face — but I could tell it wasn’t shock. Or sorrow. Just… stillness. Not like I expected him to feel something after yesterday... But I needed to know.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

That was it. Just oh.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” I said. My voice was low, but steady. “You were right. I should stay away from you. I just—” I exhaled, shaking my head. “I still have people I care about. Maybe I care about you too. But I can’t risk their lives anymore. I've made enough stupid decisions in just a few days. And I'll probably regret this too but...This is my goodbye.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t reach for me. Just nodded — slow, deliberate, like he approved of it.

And that hurt more than anything.

The elevator door slid open behind me. I stepped inside.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and let the doors close between us.

The ding that followed sounded too soft for the kind of goodbye it was.