37

37
VIVIENNE

I sat on the edge of the chair. The clock on the wall read just past 1 a.m. The house was quiet, almost too quiet,

Maria entered quietly. In her hand was a cup, from her blend of chamomile and lavender.

I recognized the smell immediately. She had given me that tea on the first day I came to the mansion, it was a piece of comfort in a world that.

I smiled at her, and she returned it with the gentle nod she always gave, one that said she understood, without words. She didn’t ask why I was staring at the closed door.

She didn’t question me because she knew. Some things were not hers to witness. She simply set the cup down and left me in my thoughts.

I had been back home for few days now, but it had felt like a week. Exhausting, demanding, and dangerous.

I had faced my father’s associates, spoken truths they weren’t expecting, and unearthed something I could use to hold power over lucian—Elena. The thought alone made my chest tighten,

Previously I felt pity, a deep and sudden ache. Not for Lucian, not yet—but for the boy he had been. The boy who had lived through nightmares I had only just begun to imagine.

Until The scout I had placed on Lucian brought news that made my heart stutter. Lucian wasn’t the only one who could keep an eye on someone. I had my ways. And the report was clear: he had taken down a group of Rivera smugglers on his own.

On his own.

This was supposed to be an alliance. A partnership. A marriage built on trust, on shared blood and power.

And yet, here he was, acting alone, leaving me in the dark. Did he think I was weak? Did he think I couldn’t handle the reality of this world, the violence, the blood?

I had taken over my father's empire, faced threats, and I had learned the cost of every decision. And still, he excluded me.

I shifted, gripping the cup of tea as if it could calm me down . Anger and frustration twisted inside me.

And so I waited. I waited by the door, watching, listening, sensing the moment he would return. Every creak of the floorboards, every muted sound from the hall, made me tense.

I imagined him walking through that door—sharp suit, sharper eyes, arrogance and confidence rolled into one. My stomach twisted at the thought,yet I would not show weakness. I could not.

Then, just on time, he walked in.

The door clicked shut behind him, But Lucian stood there for a momen. His jacket was half undone,and the faint smell of smoke and leather clung to him. His hair was a little messy, like he had been running—or fighting.

He saw me right away. His eyes landed on me where I sat on the chair For a while, neither of us moved.

“You’re still awake,” he said at last. He leaned casually against the doorframe as though nothing was wrong, as though i wasn't furiously glaring at him .

Then he tilted his head and smirked. “Were you waiting for me, Tigress?”

I rose slowly, letting the fabric of my dress fall into place. “Don’t call me that,” I said, my voice came out sharper than I intended. “And don’t pretend this is nothing. I know where you were.”

He arched one brow “Do you, now?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, taking a step closer. “The Riveras. The smugglers. You went after them. Alone.” My voice rose on the last word, breaking the careful contr

Lucian walked off the doorframe and walked into the room. He moved like a predator that knew its prey had nowhere to go“You’ve been spying on me,” he murmured, not angry, not surprised. Instead he seemed amused. “How very clever of you.”

“This isn’t a joke,” I snapped. “Do you think I’m blind? Do you think I can’t handle blood, or danger? I’ve faced worse than this and you know it. So why? Why keep me out?”

He stopped right in front of me, close enough for me to notice the small cuts on his knuckles. My eyes stayed there for a moment, wondering what kind of fight had made them that way.

Lucian noticed. He always noticed. His grin grew wider “You worry for me, Tigress?” His voice dropped softer. “How sweet"

“Don’t twist this into a joke,” I said, my voice was cold “This isn’t about worry, Lucian. This is about you risking everything—your life, this alliance, our marriage—with your secrets.”

He only smiled, in way that made my blood boil hotter. He leaned in, closer still, as though my fury were nothing but fuel for his amusement.

“I don’t see a problem,” he said softly, his tone was dripping with mockery.

I stepped closer, refusing to back down. “The problem,” I hissed, “is that you act like you’re the only one capable of standing in the fire. I took over my father’s empire, Lucian. I’ve been forged in the same flames as you. And still, you shut me out.”

His eyes sharpened, but the smile didn’t fade. Instead, he moved closer, his chest brushing mine, his hand hovering as if he meant to touch me—but he didn’t.

“You burn bright when you’re angry, Tigress,” he murmured.

My heart pounded in my chest. His mouth was so close I could feel his breath on my lips. For a moment, I thought he would kiss me. My chest rose and fell sharply, my fury was tangled with heat I hated myself for feeling.

But then, in the blink of an eye, he pulled back. The smirk returned, but it was sharper now, more triumphant.

It was as if the ground shifted under me.

“Coward,” I spat before I could stop myself. My voice was full of venom.

For the first time, his smirk faltered—only for a minute. But then he laughed softly, shaking his head as if I were amusing and nothing more. He turned away from me, walking toward the stairs.

I stood frozen with my fists clenched, fury clawing through me. “You think this is strength?” I shouted after him “Running into battles alone, bleeding in the dark, shutting me out? That isn’t strength, Lucian. That’s arrogance. That’s weakness.”

He paused at the bottom step, his back still to me. I waited—waited for him to turn, to say something, to prove me wrong.

But he only looked back over his shoulder, that damn half-smile on his lips again. No words. No answers. Just silence and mockery.

And then
he walked up the stairs, leaving me standing there, my whole body shaking with anger.