Chapter 30 Pleasure me with your mouth

Chapter 30 Pleasure me with your mouth
Lucian’s POV

The moment Daniel whispered, “She’s the one, sir,” the air in the office changed.

Every sound faded; the rustle of papers, Angela’s ragged breathing, Sonia’s faint sobs…. all disappeared beneath the roar that filled my head. I looked down at the headline, then at the pictures, then back at Sonia.

The scar on her shoulder. I’d seen that scar before. Not in a photograph, but in blood. On a trembling child’s skin, twelve years ago, in the back of a filthy bar that reeked of beer and cigarette smoke.

I could still hear her screams. I could still smell the stench of sweat and fear that hung in the air.

I looked at the screen again. The girl in those photos, the terrified twelve-year-old with bruises across her arms.

She was her. The girl I'd been searching for. My throat closed. My chest tightened painfully. The memory hit me like a gunshot. A child hiding under the counter of a filthy bar, her tiny hands shaking as a man twice her size reached for her.

And a younger me–reckless, furious, scared, standing in that doorway, promising myself I’d never forget the look in her eyes.

That girl had been the first person to ever save and protect me. And she was the last good person I had before my life became a curse.

I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the tablet until my knuckles turned white.

Daniel was still talking, but his voice sounded distant. “Sir, what do you want me to do?”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Sonia.

My wife. My savior. My first love. My reason.

All this time, I’d been living with the same girl who carried me out of hell twelve years ago.

The one I’d promised to protect — and then abandoned.

I felt something ugly rise inside me: shame, guilt, disbelief, all twisting together until it hurt to breathe. I couldn’t let anyone see my face. Not her. Not Daniel. Not anyone.

I turned sharply. “Clear the building. I want every reporter off this floor in five minutes. And get the PR team to work on a full statement.”

“Sir—”

“Now, Daniel.”

He nodded, startled, and hurried out.

When the door shut, the silence was unbearable.

Across the room, Sonia sat frozen on the couch. Angela had her arms around her, trying to shield her from the noise outside. Sonia’s hands trembled around the phone, her face pale and broken.

It was the same face I’d seen years ago…. only older, stronger, but still carrying that same quiet pain.

My chest constricted again. I wanted to go to her. To tell her that I remembered. That she wasn’t alone. That she’d been my light long before she even knew my name.

But I couldn’t. Not now.

If I told her, all my plans would be ruined. My father would know her real identity, jeopardizing my chances of inheriting the company, and her safety would be compromised. Also, everyone would find out about the night I killed a man to save her.

So I stood there, unmoving, pretending to be the cold man everyone thought I was.

“Lucian…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Are you alright? Like I said, you don't always have to be brave.”

I forced my tone steady. “I’m fine. Why would I be broken because of a little report?”

She looked up at me, tears glistening in her eyes. “You don’t understand—”

“I do.”

But not the way she thought.

I straightened my tie, turned to Daniel, who’d just returned with security, and said quietly, “Make sure she gets home safely. No reporters near her car.”

“Yes, sir.”

Angela frowned. “What about you? Where are you going?”

“Out,” I said, my voice flat. “There’s something I need to take care of.”

Sonia stood suddenly, fear flashing in her eyes. “Lucian, wait—”

I didn’t look back. If I did, I wouldn’t have the strength to walk away.

I left the office, the echo of her voice following me down the hall.

\---

Later — Lucian’s Private Office

The blinds were drawn. The city glowed below, oblivious to the chaos in my veins.

On the desk lay the printed article and, beside it, a thin file Daniel had pulled from the archives, an old police report from twelve years ago.

Red Moon Bar. Victim: Unknown minor, female. Perpetrator: deceased. Case closed by order of Smithfield Holdings.

My father’s signature glared up at me.

He had known. He’d known who she was all along.

A bitter laugh escaped me. I poured myself a drink, but my hands trembled so badly the glass nearly slipped.

Sonia.

Every scar on her body was a reminder of what I’d failed to protect.
And now the world was feeding on her pain again….because of him.

Michael.

The bastard had dug this up. He wanted to humiliate her, to break her down until she begged for forgiveness.

He didn’t realize he’d just declared war.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Daniel.

“Lock every account linked to Michael and Georgia. Freeze their assets. And Daniel…”

“Yes, sir?”

“Make sure they understand what it means to destroy a Smithfield.”

\---

Sonia’s POV

I didn’t see Lucian again that day.

He’d walked out without a word, his face unreadable, and I didn’t know if it meant anger or disgust. Maybe both.

Angela stayed by my side until the office cleared, cursing the reporters and comforting me between calls.

But my mind wasn’t in the present. It was stuck in the past — those pictures, those memories.

And worse… the way Lucian had looked at me.

Not with pity. Not even with anger.

Something else.

Like recognition.

When I finally got home, I stood in front of the mirror for a long time, staring at the scars on my shoulder. My reflection stared back, broken but defiant.

“I won’t run this time,” I whispered. “You can’t break me again.”

But even as I said it, tears slipped down my cheeks.

\---

Lucian’s POV – Midnight

When I arrived home, it was quite late at night. I had spent the last few hours destroying what little peace still existed inside me. Files. Records. Contacts. Every trace of the people who hurt her. Michael’s name would be burned by morning. Georgia’s too. But vengeance wasn’t enough to drown the memory. And the suffering she passed through kept repeating in my head.

I wasn't drunk, but I reeked of alcohol. “Sonia…I'm so sorry…” I kept muttering as I climbed the stairs leading to her room. I didn't know what I was going to do there, it was like my legs were moving voluntarily.

When I reached her door, I hesitated. My fingers brushed the handle, but I couldn’t turn it yet. What would I even say? That I’d known her as a terrified child in a bar full of monsters? That she had saved me when I was supposed to save her? That every time I looked at her now, I saw both the woman I loved and the girl I couldn’t protect?

My chest tightened. But I pushed the door open quietly.

She was sitting by the window, wrapped in one of my shirts, the white one I always wore when I couldn’t sleep. The moonlight caught her hair, turning it silver around the edges. She didn’t flinch when I entered.

“I heard you come in,” she said softly. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I murmured.

“You didn’t.” She paused. “You smell like whiskey.”

“I needed something to make me forget.”

She turned then, meeting my gaze. “Did it work?”

“No.”

Her lips parted slightly. The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating. I could hear the faint tick of the clock, the wind brushing against the glass.

“Lucian…” she whispered, standing slowly. “Everyone knows now who I am. They saw everything. I keep thinking… Maybe you regret marrying me.”

I moved closer before I could stop myself. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t ever say that again.” My voice was like a whispered threat. “You think I’d regret you? You think I care about what those vultures say?”

She looked away, her fingers curling around the edge of the shirt. “You should. I’ve ruined your name. Your company.”

I shook my head. “You’ve given it meaning.”

Her breath hitched. “Lucian…”

I reached up, my hand hovering inches from her face. “You think you’re the only one who carries scars?” I said quietly. “You’re wrong. The only difference is…yours are visible. Mine just learned how to hide.”

She looked up, and something in her eyes broke open, that same fragile defiance that had kept her alive all those years.

I stepped closer. She didn’t back away.
Her scent hit me first …faint jasmine, a trace of soap, and something purely her. My hand finally touched her cheek. Her skin was cold, softer than I remembered.

“Lucian…” Her voice trembled.

“I should stay away,” I murmured, thumb brushing a tear from her face. “You deserve peace. Not a man like me.”

She shook her head. “Don’t do that. Don’t decide what I deserve.” She lifted her head slightly, and I didn’t stop her. Her lips brushed mine, tentative, searching, as if testing whether I’d push her away. I didn’t.

For a second, there was only warmth. Then I deepened the kiss, slow but certain, letting it anchor me to the present. Her breath caught, and my hands found her waist, drawing her closer until the faint tremor in her body stilled.

Slowly, the kiss turned passionate, and we were drinking each other's mouths. I’d never felt this way for any woman in a long time, and before I realized it, my hands were all over her body, and hers were on mine. We made our way to the bed, and she was on top, her eyes glittering with an unholy feeling.

“Can I pleasure you?” She asked with an innocent voice, and my eyes widened in shock.