98

98
Athena
"Get out!" I snapped, my voice sharp and laced with frustration.
Clara flinched, scrambling out of my office as if I had physically thrown her. I didn't care. She had been standing there, saying something about reports, but I hadn't been listening. My mind was too clouded, too consumed by the ache in my chest, the restless frustration clawing at my insides.
I barely noticed her leave. My mind was in turmoil, tangled in frustration and desperation. Lucien had completely cut me off. It wasn’t just distance, it was like I had ceased to exist for him.
My hands trembled as I stared at the untouched files on my desk. I couldn’t focus. I missed him. I missed his touch, his voice, the way he made me feel. The need was suffocating, a hunger gnawing at me from the inside out. It had never been like this before.
It had been weeks since he last touched me, spoke to me, or even looked in my direction. It was like I had been erased from his world, like everything we had meant nothing to him.
I hated it.
I hated her. Moore.
That bitch. That unbreakable, infuriating woman who had somehow managed to slip into Lucien's life and ruin everything. I had tried—oh, I had tried to dismantle her, to make her crumble, but she was like a cockroach that refused to be crushed.
No matter what I did, she remained standing. It felt like I was the one crumbling instead.
A lump of rage swelled in my throat as I ripped off my lab coat and tossed it aside. My office suddenly felt too small, too suffocating. I needed air. I needed to see him.
I grabbed my bag and my car keys with shaking hands. If Lucien was going to ignore me, then I would force him to acknowledge me. I didn’t care if I looked desperate. I didn’t care if it made me pathetic. I had spent too many years in his bed, in his life, to be discarded like trash.
I staggered toward the exit. I hadn't eaten all day, hadn't even had a drink, but I didn't care. If Lucien dared to push me away again, I’d—
I didn’t finish the thought.
The night shift staff moved in and out, their voices a dull hum in the background.
It was late—10 p.m. The corridors were eerily empty, the usual hustle of the hospital reduced to an occasional passing nurse or doctor.
A strange unease settled over me.
Maybe it was exhaustion. Or maybe it was the fact that the stranger who had been sending me those disturbing messages and nudes hadn’t stopped. If anything, they had escalated.
I stepped outside. The night air was cool against my flushed skin, but I hardly noticed. My heels dragged against the pavement as I walked toward the road. I had intended to drive, but the thought of getting behind the wheel right now felt... off.
A cab, then.
Dragging my feet toward the curb after a few minutes of not being able to successfully get a cab, I barely registered the sound of an approaching car until the headlights blinded me.
I lifted a hand to shield my eyes, my heart lurching at the speed at which the car screeched to a stop, mere feet away from me.
My pulse spiked.
Who the hell—
Before I could move, the driver’s door flung open, and a man stepped out with commanding authority. His white shirt was half-unbuttoned, his broad shoulders tense, his entire aura screaming dominance.
Lucien?
My breath hitched.
What was he doing here?
Even in the dim glow of the streetlights, he looked devastatingly dangerous. His crisp white shirt was half undone, exposing a sliver of his sculpted chest, his dark hair disheveled as if he had run his fingers through it in frustration. His broad shoulders were tense, his posture rigid with an intensity that made my stomach twist in anticipation.
For a split second, hope flared inside me. Had he come for me? Had he finally realized how much he missed me? Was this him giving in—admitting he couldn’t stay away any longer?
I wanted him. Right here, right now. I wanted him to pin me against the wall, claim me like he always did, make me forget every moment of torment he had put me through.
I imagined him marching up to me, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me flush against him, and kissing me so badly, even though I knew it wasn't his thing.
I wanted him.
I wanted him so badly it hurt.
But something was off.
Lucien wasn’t looking in my direction or the hospital’s where I could possibly be.
He had his phone pressed to his ear, his entire focus locked on something, or someone, just a few feet away.
Confused, I followed his gaze.
And then—My heart stopped.
Moore. He had come for Moore.
She was standing a short distance away, her body rigid, her hands trembling as she clutched her phone. Her face was pale, her breath visible in the cold air.
Five men, dangerous-looking, unfamiliar, halted in their pursuit of her the moment Lucien appeared. Their hesitation lasted only a second before they turned and fled, disappearing into the darkness.
But I barely noticed them.
My eyes was on Moore who suddenly broke into a run.
She ran. Straight toward Lucien.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
I waited for him to step back. To push her away.
He didn’t, but caught her instead.
He buried his face into her hair, his arms tightening around her as if she was the most precious thing in the world.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
No.
No, no, no.
This wasn’t happening.
This couldn’t be happening.
I stood frozen, my entire body trembling as I watched Lucien. My Lucien held another woman with the kind of tenderness he had never shown me.
And then, as if to drive the final nail into my coffin—
He kissed her.
My bag slipped from my fingers, hitting the ground with a dull thud.
But I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears.
Lucien had never kissed me before.
Never. Not once, even when he was drunk. He was too conscious to know what he wanted or not.
He had never held me like I was something fragile, something to be cherished.
He had never looked at me the way he was looking at Moore.
I felt numb. Too numb to move. Too numb to cry. Too numb to even breathe.
I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, but the pain did nothing to snap me out of my daze.
Moore had won.
She had taken Lucien from me, wrapped him around her little finger, and now, he was hers.
My stomach twisted violently as I watched him scoop her into his arms with a gentleness that made me want to scream.
He carried her to his car, and drove away.
With her.
Leaving me standing there.
Alone.
Like I was nothing.
A strangled, agonized scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.
I wanted to rip something apart.
I wanted to hurt her.
I wanted to hurt him.
I wanted him back.
I was shaking, my vision blurring with unshed tears, when my phone suddenly vibrated in my hand.
I barely registered it.
I was still standing in the same spot, staring at the empty road where Lucien had disappeared.
I didn’t check the caller ID. I pressed the phone to my ear, my grip weak, my voice hollow as I answered, “Hello?”
A deep, rich voice hummed through the speaker, slow and deliberate.
“I think it’s time we finally meet, love.”
I froze.
I knew that voice.
My heart pounded as I glanced at my screen.
Unknown number.
But I knew who it was.
The stranger.
The one who had been sending me those messages.
I should have been angry and yelled at him… telling him this was absolutely not the time for drama.
But I didn't. I was too empty for that.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice flat, lifeless.
The man chuckled, low and menacing.
"Someone who could help you get rid of that ex-convict… and give you back Lucien."