Chapter 12 Chapter 12

Chapter 12 Chapter 12
Lucian

I don't know what the hell came over me. One second she was stumbling, the next my hand was already around her waist, holding her steady before she could fall. People were everywhere, eyes all over the place, but in that moment I couldn't care less.

Her body was warm against mine. Too close. Too soft. Too tempting.
And I hated that I noticed.

The moment that idiot started talking to her earlier, something snapped inside me. I don't even know why I got so angry. She's not mine. She's my father's wife. But the thought of anyone else touching her, looking at her like that... it made my blood boil.

I told myself it was just instinct. Protection. Control. But I knew better.

Her perfume still lingered on my hand, the same one I used to steady her. I forced myself to pull away, to step back, to remember where the hell we were. My jaw tightened, and I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Careless," 

She looked at me, her expression shifting instantly first shock, then anger. I saw it in the way her lips pressed together, in the way her eyes narrowed slightly at me.

"Stay away from me," she snapped. Then she turned and walked off, heading straight toward my father like nothing happened.

I stood there, watching her go, my hands still clenched at my sides. Father didn't even notice us. He was too busy laughing, drinking, showing her off to his business partners. Talking about how beautiful and smart she was.

The bitterness burned in my chest. He didn't marry Valentina because of love. Hell, what love could an old man be looking for. She was just another piece in his game valuable, useful, a pawn that could open doors for him. He made it clear to me the other day. 

And yet... I couldn't get her out of my damn head.

I had more important things to handle the shipment delay that could cause chaos if not fixed. My father would have my head if that deal didn't go through, but here I was, standing in a crowded gala, thinking about the scent of her skin, the way she looked up at me like she wanted to hate me but couldn't.

I rubbed the back of my neck, forcing my thoughts back in line. She was forbidden. Off limits. A danger I didn't need.

But no matter how much I tried to convince myself, one truth kept echoing in my mind she was already under my skin.

My phone buzzed peering my eyes away from Valentina. I didn't even realize how my jaw was clenched until I felt the muscle twitch. I checked the caller ID it was Kade. Which means business. 

I stole one last look at Valentina before I left she was smiling, shaking hands, but I could see how stiff she was, how uncomfortable. She'd rather be anywhere than near me. I thought of that for a second, and then shoved it down. I didn't belong in that place tonight.

I sat in my car before calling him back.  "Boss, ship came in. Containers cleared. But we've got Donelli's boys sniffing around the docks. One of their men tried to bribe a checker. I shut it down, but they're pushing."

"Which checker?" 

"Pier 7. They tried to move stuff early. Guy's been paid to hold a lane."

"Good," I said. "Tell Dixon to keep men on pier seven. Don't let them touch the containers. I'll handle Donelli boy."

"Got it, boss."

I ended the call, pocketed the phone, and drove off. I will deal with the bastard.

When I walked into the bar, it was exactly how I expected dim, noisy, and stinking of liquor and smoke. And there he was. Renzo. Sitting in a corner booth with a half\-empty glass, smiling like the world belonged to him.

He noticed me before I reached him. "Well, well. The prince of the Benedetti family himself." He grinned, his teeth flashing. "Didn't think you'd crawl out of your daddy's shadow this soon."

I slid into the seat opposite him. "You've been busy," I said.

"Business," he shrugged. "We all got mouths to feed."

"You've been poking into things that don't concern you."

He smirked, leaned back, and took a sip from his glass. "Relax, Lucian. You're so tense. I was just curious. Heard your old man's been busy stacking up his empire again. Guess a new wife comes with new motivation."

My stare stayed cold, but inside, something snapped tight.

He kept talking. "One of my cousins saw her the other night. Said she's too fine for an old man like Ambrose Benedetti. Said she'd look better—" He leaned in, his grin turning filthy. "—in someone else's bed. Maybe yours, huh?"

That was it.

Before he could blink, my hand shot out, grabbing his collar. His glass tipped, crashing to the floor. I slammed him back into the wall behind him, hard enough to rattle the table. The entire bar went silent.

He gasped, trying to catch his breath. "You—crazy—"

"Say that again,"

His grin faltered, but I could see the mockery still in his eyes.

So I shoved him harder. His chair toppled, and he hit the ground with a thud. I crouched beside him, pressing my knee to his chest. "You think this is a game? You talk about my family, I'll make sure the last thing you see is my face."

Nobody in the bar moved. They all knew better.

Renzo swallowed hard, his bravado leaking out of him. "Alright, alright... no harm meant—"

"Next time you speak," I interrupted, "think twice who you're talking about."

I stood my pulse still beating too hard. He didn't get it. Hell, I didn't get it. Why the thought of someone talking about her my father's wife made me want to break bones.

I turned and walked out. The air outside was colder now. I got into my car, slammed the door shut, and sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel.



By the time I pulled into the driveway, it was past midnight. I'd driven around for hours after leaving that bar, trying to calm the storm inside me. Nothing worked. Everything felt too loud my thoughts, my anger, her name echoing in my head.

When I finally stepped into the house, the place was quiet. The kind of silence that told me everyone was asleep my father, the maids, and probably her. Good.

I didn't need anyone asking questions about where I'd been or why I have a bruise on my knuckle one I didn't know how I got it. Probably while shoving Renzo against the wall. 

I walked straight to the kitchen. The lights were dim, the marble counters gleaming under the overhead lamp. I opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle, and poured myself a glass. The burn of whiskey hit the back of my throat.

Renzo’s voice still replayed in my mind his laugh, the words. Every time I thought about it, that familiar anger clawed up my chest again.

Why the hell did it bother me so much? Why did the idea of someone picturing her my father's wife make me want to tear things apart?

I took another gulp. It didn't help.

I was halfway through the second glass when I heard something.
Soft footsteps. Hesitant. Familiar scent. Strawberry. Her

"You don't have to hide," I said, my voice breaking the quiet. "I don't bite."

I turned my head slightly. She was standing by the door, wrapped in a light nightgown. She hesitated, like she was deciding whether to walk in or turn around. For a moment, I wished she'd turn back. Because the way the soft light hit her skin... it did things to me I didn't want to admit.

But she walked in. Barefoot. Quiet. Not saying a word.
She went straight to the fridge and started rummaging through it, pretending like I wasn't even there.

I leaned my back against the counter, watching her. The fabric of her gown brushed against her thighs as she bent slightly, and my mind damn traitorous mind began imagining things I shouldn't.

I cleared my throat, needing to break the silence. "Do you always sneak around at night just to come in here?"

She didn't turn. Just kept searching.

I tilted my glass, studying her. "What is it this time? Apples again? Or do you just like the idea of raiding the fridge when everyone's asleep?"

She straightened a little but still didn't face me.

I don't even know why I said it maybe because watching her act like I didn't exist irritated me, or maybe because I just wanted her to say something. Anything.

She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but then her gaze drifted down. Her eyes lingered for a moment, and I followed the direction my hand.

The bruised knuckles.She took a small step closer. "What happened to your hand?"

For a moment, I just stared at her, unsure if I'd heard right. She actually noticed. Of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn't one of them.

"You didn't answer my question," I said, watching her face carefully.

"And I asked you one," she countered.

Something about the way she said it... it did something to me. The spark in her eyes, the quiet defiance that hid under her soft voice it was the kind of thing that made my control thin out like smoke.

I set my glass down on the counter with a quiet clink and took a slow step forward. Her breathing hitched almost instantly. I noticed it. Hell, I felt it that invisible pull that shouldn't even exist between us.

"Why do you care?" I asked, "I thought you told me to stay away from you."

Her jaw clenched, and she lifted her chin slightly. "Never mind," she muttered, turning away. "I don't even know why I'm asking you anything."

She didn't get far.

Something in me maybe instinct, maybe madness reacted faster than reason. My hand caught hers before she could take another step. I felt her freeze, the small gasp that escaped her as I pulled her closer.

Her hand landed flat against my chest. My other hand found her waist the warmth of her skin bleeding through the thin fabric of her nightie.

For a moment, everything stopped. She looked up, and that was it the look that ruined me. Her lips parted slightly, like she was about to speak, but no words came out.

I could feel her breath on my skin. See the way her lashes trembled. And the stupid part of me wanted to close the distance to find out how soft her mouth really was.

It was wrong. I knew it. But damn, if it didn't feel like the most right kind of wrong I'd ever known.