Chapter 41 41. Tell Me To Stop
They all turned.
Lucien stood in the doorway, hair shiny and slicked back, a fresh black shirt clinging to his shoulders. But there was nothing clean about the fury radiating from him.
"Get. Away. From. Her."
Don turned slowly. "Oh, son. I was-"
"I know exactly what you were doing." Lucien crossed the room in three strides, planting himself between Don and my bed. "And I'll say this once. Stay away from Camila. Don't talk to her. Don't look at her. Don't even think about her."
"I'm trying to protect you-"
"By threatening my girl?" His voice turned lethal. "Try again."
Silence dropped heavy over the room.
Don's expression twisted into something almost pleased. "So-"
"Get out." Lucien's fists clenched. "Before I throw you out myself."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?" He stepped closer. "You're in her hospital room, threatening her while she's barely conscious. Give me one good reason not to put you in the bed next to hers."
Don stared at him for a long moment, then smiled. "Love makes you predictable, son. Remember that."
He turned to Ronan. "Are you coming?"
"Actually," Ronan reached into Nadia's briefcase and pulled out two cream-colored envelopes, "I came to deliver these personally. Invitations to the grand reopening of Cosmic Veil Entertainment. We're premiering our first feature film. Should be quite the event."
Lucien didn't take them. "You're reopening your failed company?"
"Relaunching," Ronan corrected smoothly. "With new investors, new management, new vision."
"Let me guess. Dad gave you more money?"
"Actually, I secured my own funding this time." Ronan's smile widened. "Millions in investments. New studio facilities. Distribution deals with three major streaming platforms."
Lucien laughed. "Says the guy with numerous debts. You think slapping a new name on a bankrupt company makes you less of a fraud?"
Ronan placed the envelopes on the side table. "I think you're afraid I'll succeed."
"You're a failure. Always have been. The only thing you're good at is burning Don's money." Lucien's tone dropped to steel. "So here's what's going to happen. You're going to take your fake success story and your manipulative assistant and get the fuck out of this room. And if I see you near Camila again, I won't be as polite."
"Threatening me in front of witnesses?" Ronan gestured to Don. "How uncharacteristic." He looked at me. "Feel better, Camila. We'll talk soon."
"Fuck no. I am done."
The door closed behind them. Lucien stood there, chest heaving, staring at the empty space they'd left, until his gaze turned to me and saw the tears streaming down my face. My hand pressed against my side, blood soaking through the hospital gown.
"Camila-" He was beside me in an instant. "What did they do?"
"I think..." My voice cracked. "Something tore."
"Fuck." He slammed the call button. "Nurse! Doctor! Now!"
The pain deepened and was spreading.
"It's burning," I gasped. "Lucien..."
"Help is coming. Stay with me." His hands hovered, desperate to help but terrified to hurt.
Nurses rushed in. "She's bleeding through," one said, peeling back the bandage.
Everything happened fast. They were transferring me to a gurney, adjusting IVs, wheeling me toward the door. Faces blurred and voices overlapped as we moved through the hallway.
Then I heard her.
"Camila! Oh my God, Camila!"
Maya.
She appeared beside the gurney, sobbing. "They wouldn't let me in. I've been so worried-"
Lucien blocked her path. "Move."
"Please, I just want to see her-"
"No."
"Lucien," I whispered. "Let her-"
Maya pushed past him, gripping the rail.
"I thought I lost my best friend. When I heard you were shot, I-"
"Best friend?" That phrase made me so mad, the ventilator began to beep faster. "You slammed doors in my face. You mocked my pain. You watched them hurt me and did nothing. And now you care?"
Her face broke. "It was Edmund. He-"
"Save it. I don't want to hear it." I turned away. "Don't come here again."
"Camila, please-"
"Ma'am, step back," a nurse ordered.
Maya fell behind, crying, as they pushed me through the surgical doors.
Lucien stopped at the threshold, still holding my hand.
"I'll be right here," he said. "When you wake up, I'll be here."
He kissed my forehead, and that warmth was the last thing I felt before the anesthesia dragged me under.
Not Maya. Not the pain. Just that kiss.
And the man who gave it to me.
\---
"She moved like wildfire through a forest of dead wood, beautiful and unafraid of the ashes she'd leave behind."
The deep voice wrapped around me.
"He watched her burn, knowing he'd already been reduced to cinders the moment she looked at him with those green eyes."
My eyes fluttered open.
Minimalist white walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Lucien's bedroom.
Medical equipment surrounded the bed. But also flowers. So many flowers.
And Lucien.
He sat in a chair pulled close to the bed, a book held up in front of his face. He hadn't noticed I was awake.
"'You're going to destroy me,' he told her." His voice was softer and less guarded when he read. "'I know,' she whispered back. 'But you're going to let me. Because some destructions felt like salvation. Some fires were meant to burn. And some women were worth every scar they left behind.'"
I shifted slightly. The book lowered and my heart skipped a beat when our eyes met.
Those beautiful golden eyes.
"You're awake," he said quietly.
"How long this time?"
"Two days." He set the book down. "How do you feel?"
"Like I got shot twice," I said, smiling faintly. "But better. Especially after what I just heard."
"You were listening?"
"Hard not to when you're reading dark romance in that voice."
"This voice?"
"Yeah. The one that makes book boyfriends seem real."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "Should I be jealous of fictional men now?"
"Maybe." My gaze dropped to the book. "What is it?"
"'Burned for Her' by some Estella Grey. Your fans sent it." He picked it up again, showing me the cover. A woman with auburn hair and green eyes stared back at me. "They said the main character reminded them of you."
"Auburn hair and green eyes?"
"And a fire that won't go out," he said, flipping a page. "There's a line I liked."
He read, "'She wasn't afraid of the dark. She'd been living in it so long, she learned to make it beautiful. To turn her scars into constellations and her pain into poetry.'"
Tears pricked my eyes. "That's beautiful."
"But I think I can make it better." He closed the book.
"How?"
His hand reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face.
"She wasn't afraid of the dark because she'd learned to burn brighter than any shadow could swallow. And when he looked into those green eyes, he didn't see stars. He saw wildfire. The kind that would either warm him or consume him entirely."
His thumb traced my cheekbone. "And he'd let her do both, Fiera. He'd let her burn him to nothing if it meant feeling that heat one more time."
My heart, which had been a slow, dull thrum just moments ago, suddenly kick-started like a piston, hammering against my ribs.
The world narrowed down to the sound of his breathing and his fresh scent that rushed into my head as he leaned closer.
I wanted to tell him to stop, to wait, to slow down, but my lips just parted on a shaky breath, letting the moment happen. All the exhaustion, all the pain, faded into a single, sharp awareness: him.
"Tell me to stop." His forehead almost touched mine.
I couldn't. Because I did want this. Had wanted it since that taste at Mama Cortez's villa. Since the rain. Since the first time he'd called me Fiera.
"I can't," I whispered.
"Can't what?"
"Can't tell you to stop."
His lips curved into a smile. "Good."
He closed the distance between our lips...