Chapter 148 148. Four Months Later

Chapter 148 148. Four Months Later
Four Months Later

"Sterling. Warden wants to see you." It was a Wednesday morning in early December, and the expression on Officer Cassie at my cell door was one I couldn't read.
My stomach dropped. Had something gone wrong?

The warden's office was small and surprisingly warm, with photos of his family on the desk. He gestured for me to sit.
"Ms. Sterling, I'll get right to the point. You're being released early."

"WHAT?!"

"It's over crowded, so we are releasing a select few. Your time is almost up, and you've been a model inmate. We're releasing you in two days. Pack your things for friday morning, eight AM."

My jaw dropped. Two freaking days not seven more months!
"Are you serious?"

"Congratulations," he smiled.

I floated in a mix of emotions as I walked back to my room. Margaret took one look at my face and stood up. "What happened?"

"I'm getting out on Friday."

She pulled me into a hug, and happy tears rolled down my cheeks immediately.
The walk to the wall-mounted phone felt like a dream sequence. My fingers trembled so violently I misdialed his number twice. When the line finally clicked and the automated voice announced the monitored call, his voice broke through the static.

"Fiera?"

"Friday," I choked out, a sob catching in my throat. "They’re letting me out in two days, Lucien."

For three seconds, the most powerful man I knew was speechless. Then, I heard a ragged, broken exhale.
"Two days? Dios, Camila... I’ll be there. I’ll be standing right outside those gates the second they open. I’m coming for you."
I leaned my forehead against the cool plastic of the phone booth, tears dripping onto my orange jumpsuit. "I'm coming home."

The final forty-eight hours was beautiful. I finished the final chapter of my third manuscript—the ending wasn't a tragedy, for once. I left a letter tucked inside a hidden crevice of the library desk for the next girl who felt like the world had ended. The bars are only metal, they shouldn't cage your head.
I said my goodbyes to Margaret, who cried into her knitting. She gave me some of her knitting needles as a gift and made me promise to learn how to use them, while I gave her all the commissary money I had left.

When the sun began to peek through the bars on that final December morning, I didn't feel like a prisoner anymore. I was a ghost finally reclaiming a body.

All I took were my notebooks, the letters Lucien had sent, each one I read so many times the creases had gone soft, the engagement ring I'd worn on a chain around my neck for months. Everything else stayed behind.

At seven forty-five, my jumpsuit was long discarded. I had on the dress they'd brought me in with. It hung loose on my frame, but it was mine, and real.
They led me to processing and had me sign papers I barely read. Officer Cassie walked me to the final gate.

"You did good, Sterling. But please don't come back here."

"I don't plan to."

"See you someday on the outside." She smiled and opened the gate.

The December chill was a sharp, biting reminder of reality. I took one step, then two, the gravel crunching under my sneakers.
And then I saw them.
A fleet of black SUVs sat idling, but I only had eyes for the man leaning against the lead car. Lucien looked like a king returning for his queen—clad in a heavy charcoal overcoat, his dark hair tousled by the wind.

Beside the other cars stood Maya, Rafael, Damon, Silas, Seraphina, and Mama Cortez. They'd all come.

My legs carried me forward before my brain caught up. Lucien caught and lifted me off the ground as his arms wrapped tight. Burying my face in his neck, breathing in cedar and home and freedom, was all that mattered at this point.

"You're free," he whispered against my hair, his voice breaking. "You're really free."

"I'm free." Wetness on his cheeks met my lips as he kissed me.

Breaking apart brought everyone else forward. Maya sobbed as she hugged me. Rafael squeezed my shoulder with a smile. Damon tried to hide his tears and failed miserably. Silas, Seraphina and Mama Cortez held me between them, crying as usual.

"Let's go home," Lucien said finally, his arm never leaving my waist.
The drive to my penthouse felt surreal. Every surface demanded touching. The leather seats of Lucien's car. The window glass. His hand on my thigh. Real things. Free things.

When we reached the penthouse, the doors opened to a sea of balloons and a giant banner: WELCOME HOME CAMILA.

We partied loud all afternoon. Maya flashed her ring every five minutes, announcing their engagement officially to the others.
Natasha joined in towards evening with a bottle of wine and little Iris who rushed to hug me, taking me by surprise.

"Welcome back..." a smile touched her straight face, "...sister."

"Thank you..." I stretched my hand for a shake, but she hugged me instead.

As the sun dipped below the skyline and the champagne ran low, the crowd began to thin. One by one, they hugged me, sensing the shift in the air. They knew I needed the one thing prison never allowed: silence. And him.

Lucien pulled me into his arms, and melting against him like this, in this penthouse, still felt surreal.
"Come on," he said softly. "Let me take care of you."

He led me to the master bathroom where he ran a bath with steaming water, adding bath salts that smelled like lavender.

"Get in."

I stripped slowly, aware of his eyes tracking every movement. Each piece of clothing hitting the floor darkened his gaze, but he remained still, only looking at me like something precious and wild all at once.

The hot water was perfect. Sinking into it pulled a relaxed moan from deep in my chest, months of tension starting to ease from muscles I hadn't realized were tight.
Lucien knelt beside the tub, rolling up his sleeves. The movement revealed his tattooed forearm, ink I'd missed desperately. I reached out and bit down on the muscle there.

He sucked in a sharp breath. "Fiera."

"I missed this." My tongue traced over the bite mark. "Missed all of you."

He picked up the shampoo, starting to wash my hair. Those hands were gentle, massaging my scalp, working through strands that were longer now. He took his time, rinsing carefully, conditioning, rinsing again.

"It feels strange," the words came out quiet. "Being able to just walk outside. To party. To lie here in this tub. I keep expecting someone to tell me it's time for count or lights out."

"You'll adjust." He pressed a kiss to my temple. "I'll help you. We'll take it slow. One day at a time."

"Prison wasn't all that bad, but what if it changed me in a way I haven't realized yet?"

"Prison didn't break you, Fiera. You're still fierce. Still mine. Still the woman who dumped me and called me an asshole."

A laugh bubbled up. "That feels like a lifetime ago."

"It was a lifetime ago. We were different people, but we found each other anyway, and we'll figure out this next part together too."

"What if I have nightmares? What if I wake up thinking I'm back there?"

"Then I'll be right there to remind you where you are. To hold you until the fear passes. You're not alone anymore, Camila. You don't have to be strong all the time. You can lean on me."

"I don't know how to do that."

"We'll learn. We've got time now. All the time in the world."

The water had started to cool. He helped me stand, wrapping the softest towel around my body. Guiding me to stand in front of the mirror, he reached for a bottle of leave-in conditioner, working it through my damp hair.

After rinsing his hands, he picked up a comb and began working through the strands, starting at the ends and moving upward. Our eyes were locked in the mirror's reflection.

I watched his chest rise and fell heavily, felt his cock press hard and insistent through his pants. With mischievousness in my eyes, I released the towel and let it pool at my feet.

Lucien's sharp inhale cut through the quiet bathroom.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Fiera." His voice had dropped to that dark register that made my belly do backflips.

"Maybe I want to be dangerous."

Using the comb, he gathered all my hair and draped it over my left shoulder, baring the right side of my neck. The comb clattered onto the counter as his lips found my exposed shoulder, pressing hot kisses to my skin.

My body shuddered, arching back into him. His mouth moved across my shoulder, up the column of my neck, down to the curve where my neck met back. Each kiss burned hotter than the last.

"I've thought about this every night." His hand slid around to cup my right breast, thumb brushing over the hardened bud. "Touching you. Tasting you again."

A moan escaped as my back arched further, pushing my ass against the hard length of him. His kisses traveled lower, down my spine, worshipping each vertebra while his hand continued working my breast.

His left hand joined the exploration, cupping my other breast while his right hand abandoned the first to trail down to where I needed him most.

"Open for me, Fiera."