Chapter 11 Complications
Lucy sat on the edge of the sofa, knees pulled tight to her chest, watching him with a worry she couldn’t hide.
The two unconscious intruders were already gone—Marco and another man had dragged them out under Lucas’s orders—but the tension remained like residue in the air.
Every time Lucas passed near her, she felt the heat radiating off him.
Fury.
Fear.
Restraint.
All coiled tight under his skin.
Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Lucas,” she said softly.
He stopped.
Turned.
His eyes were intense—too intense.
He did that around her now: lowered his guard, showed emotions he probably kept buried from everyone else.
She swallowed. “Talk to me.”
He exhaled a breath that sounded like it’d been held for hours. Then he knelt in front of her, his hands bracing on the couch on either side of her thighs.
He wasn’t touching her.
But she felt him everywhere.
“There’s a traitor,” he said slowly. Carefully.
“Someone feeding information to the ring that tried to take Emily.”
Lucy felt her stomach drop. “Inside your organization?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know who?”
His jaw clenched. “I have a name. But I need to confirm it.” He hesitated. “And when I do, it won’t end quietly.”
She reached out and touched his cheek gently—right where the bruise from the fight was darkening.
He leaned into the touch instinctively, eyes softening.
“You don’t have to face everything alone,” she whispered.
A humorless smile tugged at his mouth.
“Funny—coming from you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hypocrisy is allowed when someone’s life is at stake.”
His voice dropped. “Yours is.”
A shiver ran through her, equal parts fear and something dangerously close to longing.
“You kissed me,” she said before she could stop herself.
Lucas froze.
Then he lifted his gaze to hers—slow, deliberate, unguarded.
“Yes,” he said. “I did.”
“And?” Her voice was barely a breath.
“And I’d do it again.” His hand slid to her knee, fingers brushing her skin, sending heat up her spine. “But not if it scares you.”
“It doesn’t,” she whispered.
“Lucy…” His voice turned rough, lower, like her name was something sacred. “I’m trying to be careful with you."
“You don’t have to be.”
Another step closer. His thumb stroked the side of her knee.
“I do,” he murmured. “Because I feel things for you I shouldn’t.”
Her breath hitched. “Like what?”
His hand slid up her thigh a fraction, his eyes darkening.
“Like wanting you closer than is safe.”
Her heart pounded painfully.
“Lucas…”
He lifted his hand, framing her jaw, brushing his thumb along her lower lip. Her breath shook.
But before either of them could move, Marco’s voice echoed from the foyer.
“Boss. We have a problem.”
Lucas stiffened instantly, the soft haze between them evaporating.
Lucy tensed. “What kind of problem?”
Marco hesitated, glancing between them. “It’s Emily.”
Lucas shot to his feet, fear flashing across his face so fast Lucy almost missed it.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“She’s fine,” Marco said quickly. “But someone left something at her school.”
Lucas’s face went blank in that terrifying, controlled way he wore when he was suppressing fury.
“What did they leave?”
Marco’s jaw tightened. “A picture. Of her. And Lucy.”
Lucy felt her breath stop in her lungs.
“What?” she whispered.
Marco nodded grimly. “Taken yesterday. You and Emily leaving the café.”
Lucas turned to her slowly.
His voice was ice.
“They’re targeting the people I care about.”
Lucy swallowed hard. “Lucas—”
“No.” His hand closed around her wrist—not painfully, but firmly, grounding her. “You’re not leaving my sight.”
She tried to pull in a steady breath. “Emily—does she know?”
“No. And she won’t.” His tone brooked no argument. “I’ll handle it.”
“Lucas—she’s your sister. Let me help.”
“You already are,” he said quietly. “Just by being here.”
Lucy blinked. “That’s not helping. That’s… distracting you.”
“It’s keeping me human,” he corrected, voice thickening.
For a moment, that truth pressed between them like something electric, something too real.
But then Lucas straightened, shoulders squaring.
Marco stepped aside as Lucas grabbed his jacket.
“You’re not going alone,” Lucy said firmly, standing.
He turned, eyes burning. “Lucy—”
“No.” She moved closer. “This is my fight too now. And if they’re watching me… if they know who I am… maybe I can help you find out who’s behind it.”
Lucas stared at her for a long, tense moment.
Then he shook his head.
“Absolutely not. You’re staying here. Marco will guard you.”
“Lucas—!”
He stepped in close, one hand sliding to the back of her neck, pulling her into a kiss that was quick but deep—almost desperate.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against hers.
“I’ll come back,” he whispered. “I promise.
And then he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Lucy stood there, breath shaking, realizing an awful truth:
The deeper she fell for him, the more she had to lose.