Chapter 29 Chapter 29

Chapter 29 Chapter 29
Lucien

Valentina lay sprawled across my chest, her cheek pressed over my heart like it belonged there. Her breathing was slow, the kind that told me she'd finally drifted into deep sleep. One arm was thrown over my torso, fingers loosely curled as if she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go completely.

I stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide open. Sleep wasn't coming to me anytime soon.

The room was quiet, too quiet, and my mind wouldn't stop replaying everything that had led us here. Her office. The drive. The way she'd looked at me like she was angry and wanting me all at once. The way I'd lost whatever restraint I'd been pretending to have.

I'd brought her here one of my penthouses. A place no one knew about.

She was the first. That alone should've scared me. Instead, it felt... right. Too right.

I shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, and looked down at her face. Even in sleep, there was tension there, like she was still fighting something. Or maybe everything. Her lashes rested against her cheeks, her lips parted just enough to make my chest tighten again.

I shouldn't feel like this. I shouldn't want her like this. I shouldn't be lying here with my father's wife asleep on my chest in a house I'd hidden from the world.

And yet here I was. Her fingers twitched, then her head tilted slightly. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first.

"Is it morning already?" she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

I huffed a quiet breath, my hand instinctively sliding up and down her back in slow strokes. "No," I said softly. "Not yet."

Her gaze lifted to mine, lingering there longer than necessary. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt heavy again, charged even in the calm.

Then she looked away. That did something unpleasant to my chest.

We stayed like that for a while silent, still, pretending this was simple. Pretending it was temporary. She was the one who broke it.

"So..." she said quietly, not looking at me. "How long are we going to keep doing this?"

I knew exactly what she meant.

This. The way we couldn't keep our hands off each other. The line we crossed and then crossed again without hesitation.

I swallowed, jaw tightening as I stared back up at the ceiling.

I didn't have a clean answer. Only the truth and the truth wasn't safe.

Being around her stripped me bare in ways nothing else ever had. I was controlled in every part of my life. Calculated. Careful. I didn't lose control.

Except with her. Around Valentina, my instincts were louder than my reason. I wanted to protect her, touch her, keep her close, make the world shut up long enough for her to breathe. I wanted things I had no right to want.

I turned my head and looked at her again, really looked at her.

"Do you regret it?" I asked quietly.

She stilled against me. I watched her throat move as she swallowed, watched her fingers tighten just a little on my chest. Whatever answer she was forming mattered more to me than I was ready to admit.

Because if she said yes, I wasn't sure I'd know how to let her go.

And that realization sat heavy in my chest, right beneath where her head rested, as the night pressed on around us.

Slowly, she lifted her head from my chest and propped herself up on her elbow. Her hair fell around her face in a soft, messy curtain, and her eyes searched mine like she was afraid of what she might find there.

"No," she said finally. The word was quiet, but it landed heavy. "I don't regret it."

Something in me loosened. Not relief exactly something sharper, more dangerous.

"But," she continued, her voice wavering just enough to betray her, "That doesn't mean I'm not scared."

I reached up without thinking, my thumb brushing along her arm, grounding both of us. She leaned into the touch then sighed.

"I've spent my whole life doing what was expected of me," she said. "Being the good daughter. The good wife. Never wanting too much. Never asking for more." Her lips pressed together. "And then there's you."

I felt it again that pull. That fierce, irrational need to claim what I shouldn't.

"With you," she went on, "everything feels... loud. Like I can't hide from what I want anymore."

I shifted slightly, lifting my head so I could look at her properly. "And what do you want, Valentina?"

Her gaze dropped to my mouth for half a second before she forced it back to my eyes. "You already know."

God. Of course I did.

I exhaled slowly, my hand sliding up to cup her waist. "That's the problem," I admitted. "I know exactly what you do to me. And I don't know how to turn it off."

She studied my face, like she was memorizing it, like she was looking for cracks. "You're not even trying to," she said softly.

A corner of my mouth lifted, humorless. "No. I'm not."

Her fingers traced a slow, absent line over my chest. "This can't last forever."

I caught her hand before it could retreat, threading my fingers through hers and holding it still against my chest. I lifted it slowly, deliberately, until my lips brushed over her knuckles soft, lingering.

"Maybe not," I murmured against her skin. "But right now... I don't want to lie to you." My gaze dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes. "I don't know how to walk away from you."

Something shifted in her expression. The guarded edge softened, replaced by something fragile and achingly real. She leaned closer, hesitating only a second before resting her head against me again.

I tilted her chin up gently and kissed her. Her lips moved against mine in quiet agreement, warm and familiar, and my arm came around her without thinking, holding her there like this was where she belonged.

When we finally pulled back, her forehead rested against my jaw.

"Just don't make promises you can't keep," she whispered.

I kissed her hair, my mouth lingering there as my arm tightened around her just a fraction. "I won't," I said honestly. "But I won't pretend this means nothing either."

She didn't answer. Her breathing gradually slowed as she leaned on me.

We didn’t say a word on the drive back. She was the first to step out of the car, just like we planned. I stayed back, counting the seconds, watching her disappear into the house before I followed. By then, the compound was quiet. Lights dim. Guards half-asleep. No one paying attention.

Good.

Inside, the living room was exactly as I expected silent, untouched, the kind of quiet that made secrets feel louder than they were. I headed straight for the stairs.

Halfway up, I glanced toward her door.

Closed. A part of my chest loosened. She was already in. Already safe. Already playing her part.

I turned toward my own room, fingers just brushing the handle when a voice cut through the quiet.

“Where are you coming from, Lucien, at this hour?”

I stopped. Mira stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, robe tied too neatly for someone who was heading to bed. Her eyes were curious. Annoying.

“I just saw Valentina entering her room,” she continued, taking a slow step closer. “And now you’re back too. Did you two come home together?”

There it was. The sniffing. The poking. The need to insert herself where she didn’t belong.

I turned slowly, fixing her with a look I rarely bothered to soften. “You’re asking too many questions.”

She scoffed lightly. “I’m just observant.”

“No,” I corrected flatly. “You’re bored.”

Her lips pressed together. “Father would want to know if—”

“This,” I cut in, voice dropping, calm but lethal, “is none of your business.”

The hallway seemed to shrink around us.

“Mira,” I continued, taking a step closer now, forcing her to tilt her head up to meet my gaze, “go to bed. And stop watching people like it’s your job.”

Her eyes flickered, irritation flashing across her face. But she knew that tone. She knew when to back off.

“This house is full of secrets,” she muttered.

“And you’d do well to remember which ones will ruin you if you keep digging.”

Silence stretched between us. Finally, she huffed, turned on her heel, and walked away down to her room. “Whatever,” she threw over her shoulder. “Goodnight.”

I waited until her door closed before I moved again.

Only then did I exhale. I stepped into my room and shut the door behind me, locking it quietly. My back rested against the wood for a moment longer than necessary.

Across the hall, Valentina was behind her own door. In her own bed. Alone.

And yet… she wasn’t. Not really.

Because no matter how quiet the house was, no matter how carefully we played this game, she was already under my skin. And that was the most dangerous secret of all.