Chapter 47 Chapter 47
Valentina
I turned in my sleep, reaching instinctively toward the warmth beside me. Cold sheets.
My eyes fluttered open. The other side of the bed was empty.
The memory of earlier rushed back in fragments. We ended up in bedroom afterwards. Clothes abandoned on the floor in careless trails.
I sat up, wrapping the duvet around my bare chest. The room was dim, washed in early morning light slipping through the curtains. My slippers were somewhere near the foot of the bed. I slid into them and stood.
"Lucien?" I called out. Silence.
I checked the bathroom first. Empty. The shower was dry. No steam. No sign he'd been there.
A strange, unease crawled into my stomach. I moved back into the bedroom, pulling one of his shirts over my head. I didn't even check the time.
The living room was still. The plates were on the small table, empty but untouched since we'd left them there. Two glasses. One tipped slightly to the side. The memory of teasing him about saving me if I drowned flickered through my mind.
The kitchen empty. Has he left? Has something happened?
My pulse quickened as I headed toward the front door. Just as my hand reached for the knob It turned.
The door opened.nLucien stepped inside.
"Where did you go?" The words came out breathless. "I was scared for a moment."
He closed the door behind him, brows pulling together slightly at the panic in my voice.
"I stepped out to make a call," he said calmly.
"A call?" I pressed, searching his face.
"Yes." He slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Signal inside is unreliable this early."
I exhaled, the tension draining out of me all at once.
"I woke up and you weren't there," I muttered, suddenly feeling foolish. "I thought..."
He stepped closer. "You thought I disappeared?"
"I didn't know what to think." I crossed my arms defensively. "You could have at least left a note."
A smile tugged at his lips. "You were asleep."
"That's not an excuse."
He shook his head lightly, amused, but his eyes softened.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly.
Something in the way he said it made my throat tighten.
"Good," I replied, trying to recover my composure. "Because I don't like waking up to empty beds."
His gaze dropped briefly to the oversized shirt I was wearing his shirt and then back to my face.
"I'll keep that in mind. But you look like you were ready to fight someone," he observed lightly.
"I was," I replied. "You."
A soft huff of laughter escaped him. He placed his keys on the small table, then walked past me toward the kitchen as if nothing monumental had just happened. As if I hadn't nearly spiraled in the span of five minutes.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he said.
I watched him move—calm, composed, sleeves slightly pushed up, hair still a little messy from sleep.
"You could have woken me," I said.
"And have you glare at me for disturbing your sleep?" he countered.
"I don't glare."
He looked over his shoulder slowly.
I narrowed my eyes. He smiled. I followed him into the kitchen. "Who were you calling?"
"Kade," he answered easily. "He needed confirmation on a shipment before the markets open."
Of course. Work. Always work lingering in the background like a shadow neither of us could fully outrun.
I leaned against the counter, folding my arms. "Okay."
"He looked at me and lifted a brow. "You do know you were breathing like someone who hasn't rested properly in weeks. That was why I couldn't wake you."
"You were watching me sleep?" I asked.
"Briefly."
"Creepy."
"Protective," he corrected.
I tried not to let the warmth spread too obviously across my face.
He poured himself a glass of water, then glanced at me again. "You really thought I left."
"It crossed my mind," I admitted.
"And?"
"And I didn't like how that felt."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked toward me, stopping close enough that the air between us shifted.
"I told you," he said quietly. "I'm not going anywhere."
The certainty in his tone settled something deep inside my chest.
"You say that so easily," I murmured.
"Because I mean it."
For a moment, neither of us spoke. He reached up, brushing his thumb lightly along my jaw, almost absentmindedly.
"You panic too fast," he added softly.
"I don't panic."
"You were at the door."
I looked away. "Maybe."
He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "You don't trust stability, do you?"
"I trust what I can see," I replied carefully.
"And what do you see now?"
I met his eyes.
"You," I said.
Something unreadable flickered across his expression something heavier than amusement this time.
He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to my forehead. "You're safe here," he murmured.
Safe. With a man I wasn't supposed to love. Standing there in his shirt, barefoot in his childhood kitchen. There was no doubt I am in love with this man.
"By the way... how did you handle the transportation situation? Your father hasn't said a word. He was just... silent."
We moved back into the living room, settling side by side on the couch.
Lucien leaned back, one arm resting along the backrest behind me.
"He's silent because I gave him something else to focus on," he said calmly. "He wanted corporate involvement," he continued. "Partners. Paper trails. Something polished. Before that could happen, I submitted a report."
"A report?" I echoed.
"A fake one. I told him I tipped certain officials ahead of time. Made it look like authorities were beginning to circle. I implied that if we didn't step back, the entire operation could attract attention."
My brows lifted slowly.
"And then?"
"I told him I handled it. Paid off the right channels. Buried the noise before it spread."
I stared at him. "So he believes the issue dissolved because you bribed the right people."
"Yes."
"Wow. You really know how to handle this well."
He shrugged slightly. "I didn't need to learn. I grew up watching it."
There was no pride in his voice. Just familiarity.
"I'm already used to this," he added. "Redirect attention. Create a cleaner narrative. Make the problem disappear before it becomes public."
I studied his face, wondering how many times he'd had to do that. How many times he'd stood between something wrong and something worse.
"Your dad sure has a lot of dealings," I murmured.
"He does."
My gaze drifted absentmindedly to the phone in his hand. The time. Past 10pm.
My eyes widened instantly.
"What?" he asked.
"I was supposed to send Leah the updated layout for the project," I said, sitting upright. "She needs it before tomorrow morning."
I stood quickly, pacing once. "And I should go back. It's almost midnight. Ambrose might be home."
Lucien didn't move. He just reached for me and gently pulled me back down beside him.
"He won't be waiting up," he said evenly. "He should be buried in projections for the new deal."
"That doesn't mean he won't notice," I muttered.
"He won't," Lucien replied, calm as ever. "Right now, he thinks I secured his interests. That's all that matters to him." I bit my lip.
"You make it sound so simple."
"It is simple," he said quietly. "We move carefully. You send the file from here. I'll drive you back. Nothing changes."
Nothing changes. Except everything already had.
Still, I nodded.
"Fine," I said softly. He brushed his thumb lightly along my cheek,
The drive back was quiet. I kept glancing at the dashboard clock, my fingers twisting together in my lap. Lucien noticed.
"You're overthinking," he said lightly, eyes still on the road.
"I always overthink."
"I know."
He didn't seem worried. That calm confidence of his both soothed and unsettled me. How was he never shaken?
When we pulled up a short distance from the gates, he didn't immediately unlock the doors.
"Text me when you're inside," he said.
"I will."
"And Valentina," he added quietly, looking at me now. "Stop looking like you're walking into a battlefield."
I huffed softly. "That's exactly what it feels like."
He leaned closer, brushing his lips briefly against my forehead. Soft. Reassuring.
"Go."
I stepped out of the car, smoothing my dress instinctively. The house loomed ahead grand, silent, imposing as always.
I inhaled once and walked in.
The foyer lights were dim. The guard were there standing like statues. I composed myself before heading acknowledging their head bows. Atleast I am working in alone. They won't suspect anything.
My heels echoed against the marble as I crossed the hall. I slipped them off halfway up the stairs, not wanting the sound to travel.
Almost there. I turned the corner toward my room when my foot caught the edge of the carpet. I stumbled forward slightly, grabbing the railing to steady myself.
"Well," a voice drawled smoothly from the dimly lit corridor, "that's quite the dramatic entrance."
Mira.
She stepped forward from the shadows, arms folded neatly across her chest. Her silk robe flowed around her like she had been waiting.
"Where are you coming from?" she asked casually, but her eyes were anything but casual.
I straightened slowly.
"I had work," I replied evenly.
"At midnight?"
"Yes."
Her gaze moved over me deliberately. Taking in every detail. My hair. My expression. My slightly rushed breathing.
"You look... unsettled," she observed.
"I nearly tripped," I said flatly. "That tends to unsettle people."
A faint smile touched her lips. "Of course."
Silence stretched between us.
"And where is Lucien?" she asked suddenly.
My pulse skipped but I maintained my composure.
"What about him?"
"I didn't see his car tonight."
I tilted my head snorting. "Should I be tracking his movements for you?"
Her eyes sharpened briefly, but her smile remained.
"You're defensive."
"I'm tired."
Mira stepped closer. "You know," she said gently, "in this house, timing matters. Movements matter. People notice patterns."
I met her gaze without flinching. "Then it's a good thing I was at work," I replied calmly.
A beat passed. Then she gave a small nod.
"Goodnight, Valentina."
I didn't turn my back immediately. I waited until she stepped aside.
Only then did I walk to my room, closing the door carefully behind me.
My heart was pounding now. I pulled out my phone and typed quickly.
Me: Inside.
A few seconds later, Lucien replied.
Lucien: I told you. Nothing changes.
I stared at the message. Nothing changes. But Mira had been watching.
I took a shower because I needed it. When I stepped out, towel wrapped around my body, hair damp against my shoulders, my legs came to a halt when my eyes landed on Ambrose.
My heart stopped. He had never been in here like this before.
We were married, yes. But we did not share a bed. We did not share nights. We did not share intimacy. Our arrangement had always been distant. Controlled. Calculated.
Seeing him inside my bedroom felt invasive. Unexpected. Dangerous. I forced my breathing to steady.
"You startled me," I said evenly, moving toward my wardrobe as if nothing was wrong. As if I hadn't just been somewhere I shouldn't have been.
His eyes followed me.
"Why weren't you at the office after noon?"
Straight to it. I kept my back to him while I grabbed a robe and slip on to cover my body. Somehow it just doesn't sit right exposing my body to him. Even though he's my husband.
"My....." I started. Think of something Valentina.
"My sister wasn't....feeling well. I went to my parents' house to see her."
A beat of silence.
"Is that so?"
"Yes." I slowly gulped down.
He studied me for a while before speaking up again. "So now you abandon work in my company without notice?"
His tone wasn't loud.
That was worse.
"I cleared the urgent matters before I left," I said carefully. "Leah has instructions for the remaining documents."
"You cleared them," he repeated.
"Yes."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "And you couldn't inform me?"
"I didn't think it required escalation," I replied smoothly. "It was a family matter."
Ambrose had a way of filling space without touching you. His presence alone was oppressive.
"Understand something, Valentina," he said quietly. "Everything attached to my name must be disciplined. Structured. Predictable."
I swallowed.
"I am."
"Good."
He studied my face a second longer, as if trying to read something beneath my skin.
Then he stepped back.
"Be at the office early tomorrow. I we have a meeting with the board members."
"I'll be there." I said in one breath.
He nodded m. Then walked out. The door closed softly behind him.
Only then did I exhale. My legs felt weak. He was watching. Mira was watching.
I walked to the mirror slowly, staring at my reflection. I had just lied to a man who built empires on control.
And the worst part? I wasn't sure if he believed me.
The boardroom smelled like polished wood and expensive decisions.
Expansion projections were displayed across the large screen. Ambrose stood at the head of the table, composed as always, speaking about regional growth and acquisition strategy like a man who never lost sleep.
I sat to his right. Where a wife should sit. Where a partner should look aligned.
But my mind kept drifting. Last night.
Him inside my room. I had asked Leah first thing this morning if Ambrose had stopped by my office. She said he hadn't.
Which meant he was either unconcerned or watching quietly.
"Mrs. Ambrose?"
One of the board members was looking at me.
I straightened instantly. "Yes," I said, tone smooth.
"Regarding the expansion into the coastal district , do you believe the retail density supports a premium anchor tenant?"
All eyes were on me. Focus.
"Yes," I replied evenly. "The demographic shift over the last three years shows a 12% increase in high-income residency. If we secure the right brand alignment early, occupancy risk drops significantly."
A pause. Then nods. The conversation moved on. When the meeting ended, chairs scraped back. Papers gathered. Quiet professional chatter filled the room.
I stood, collected my file, and walked out without rushing.
Back in my office, the door closed behind me. I sank into my chair.
This is where you need to be careful Valentina.
I glanced at my phone. I wanted to go to Lucien's office. But after last night? After Ambrose showing up in my room unexpectedly?
I dialled his number and he picked up on the third ring.
"Hey," came his deep voice.
"Are you alone?" I asked.
A brief pause.
"Yes."
"I wanted to come to your office but I can't come."
"What happened?"
"Your father came into my room last night. He's never done that before," I continued. "He asked why I wasn't at the office in the afternoon."
His voice dropped. "Did he say anything else?"
"Not really. He didn't check with Leah either," I added. "At least not yet. I don't think he knows but he's watching."
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.
"We'll have to be careful from now on. Maybe... maybe we just don't see each other for a while."
The words tasted wrong. But necessary.
There was silence. Heavy silence.
"Lucien?" I called.
A beat.
"Yeah. It’s fine," he replied finally. His voice was even.
Fine. I knew that tone.
"Are you angry?" I asked before I could stop myself.
"No."
"Anything you want to do,we'll go with it."
That hurt more than anger would have.
"I'm not pushing you away," I said quietly.
"I know."
But his voice had changed. Subtle. Withdrawn.
And somehow that felt worse than if he had. "We just need time,"
"Take all the time you need. Valentina," he replied.
"I'll call you later," I said softly.
"Alright."
The line disconnected. I stared at my phone long after the screen went dark. Why does distance feel heavier than danger?