Chapter 85 85. Finding Camila
Lucien's POV
I bought Camila's building at three in the afternoon. The entire thing. Every goddamn brick and wiring. The owner signed the papers without hesitation when I offered double the asking price.
Rafael stared at me across the conference table like I'd finally lost my mind.
"You cannot just buy a building to force her to talk to you."
"Watch me." I signed the last page. "I want a mandatory building meeting scheduled for the next hour the purchase gets finalized. Every tenant attends."
"Lucien, this is insane."
"This is necessary."
She blocked my number. She wouldn't answer her door. She was trying to cut me out based on one moment she didn't understand.
And maybe I deserved her anger.
But she didn't deserve the lie her mind had created about what she saw.
I hadn't slept since the proposal. I hadn't done anything except stand outside her door like an idiot, hoping she'd open the door and scream at me. Anything was better than silence.
And right now? I'm done being reasonable.
"You have no right to shut me out, Fiera."
Because I loved her. I love her. Not the pretty kind. The kind that consumed. The kind that made you buy buildings and threaten law firms and lose your mind standing outside a locked door.
Miranda had called this morning to tell me Camila had fired her. Then I made Jonathan send out warnings to every law firm.
Touch her case, and you answer to me.
"The building purchase will be finalized by five," Jonathan said.
By five PM, the building was mine. The notice went out immediately. Mandatory meeting at six PM for all tenants.
I arrived again, even before 5 PM, and stood at the back of the community room, eyes fixed on the door. Waiting for her.
Six PM came. The room filled, but no fiery auburn hair and green eyes.
Then Maya walked in, and her face fell when she saw me.
"Camila's sick. She can't attend tonight. I'm here on her behalf."
"This meeting is mandatory," I said flatly. "No exceptions for any tenant."
"Lucien, she needs space. She's not well. Please, just give her time."
"I don't care about space." I started walking toward her. "I need her to look at me. To listen to me. To understand what actually happened and why."
"She doesn't want to understand-"
"She will." I moved past her toward the elevator. "And I'm breaking down that door."
Maya grabbed my arm. "You can't just force your way into our apartment!"
"I've respected her boundaries for eight hours. I'm the landlord now, and you'll open that door."
"Lucien, please-"
But I was already in the elevator. Maya followed, and when we reached their floor, I pounded on the door one last time.
"Camila! Open the door." Nothing. "Open it, Maya."
"No."
"Open the goddamn door while I'm still being nice."
Maya's face crumpled. "She's not in there."
"What?"
She exhaled and turned away for a second like she needed fresh air, before turning back to me. "She's left home hours ago. I don't know where she went."
"Oh yeah?" I smirked. "Well unlock the door."
To my astonishment, she opened it without fighting me again. I searched every room, and truly, she wasn't there. Her laptop was gone as well.
I stormed back into the hallway and grabbed Maya's arm. "Where did she go?"
"I don't know! She left with someone in a car and said she would update me later tonight or tomorrow. That's all she told me."
I released her and was already pulling out my phone. Rafael answered immediately.
"I need our guy from Morocco. Now. Track Camila's phone. I need her location within the hour."
"Lucien, that's mental-"
"I said do it!"
I drove back to the penthouse to change into fresh clothes, all black. I opened my safe, my hand hovered over the pistol.
'Would this be necessary? Did you just run away from me, and are you in danger?'
Rafael called at eight-thirty.
"She's in some estate at Westchester. I've sent you the address."
"Whose estate?"
"Belongs to someone named Seraphina Ashford. Running a background check now."
Ashford. I didn't know the name, but my girl was there, alone, with a stranger.
"Send me everything you find. I'm going there now."
The drive took fifty-five minutes because of how fast I was going. The GPS led me through winding roads into a neighborhood that reeked of old wealth.
The Ashford estate sat at the end of a private drive. Massive three stories that screamed quiet power, security gate and two guards.
My car skidded to a halt. Both guards approached and I drove my fist into the first one's jaw. The second pulled his gun. I twisted his wrist until he dropped it, then swept his legs.
I picked up the gun and pointed it at the conscious one.
"I'm Lucien Hayes. Do I look like someone who needs to rob you? I'm here for my girl, and you're going to walk me up to that house."
He nodded and stood with hands up in surrender. I kept the gun trained on him as we walked up the driveway.
And then I saw her.
Her auburn hair caught the lawn lights.
She was on the ground, dress rucked up around her thighs... and a man crouched beside her legs.
A man beside her legs?
His hand was on her knee, on my Fiera's skin. The other reached toward her face, looking at her with a softness I knew too well because I wore it every time I looked at her.
For a pulse-beat, my thoughts vanished, replaced by a guttural, ancient shockwave. A man I didn't know was touching my girl, looking at her the way only I should look at her.
And I realized-I wasn't the only one who could see how extraordinary she was. That other men would look at her and want her and try to take what belonged to me.
The world snapped back into motion.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY GIRL!"