Lucian’s Reign: A Billionaire Romance
Lucian’s Reign: Chapter 14

“Some friends are worse than our enemies.

For they know all our secrets and where to stab their knives.

Be careful who you become friends with.

Or the friend might turn into a snake who you warmed on your chest.”

Lucian

Lucian, 18 years old

Getting out of the car, I throw my keys at Harold and salute him in greeting, then stroll to the house whistling as the moonlight basks the property in glowing light, showcasing once again how gorgeous nature is.

Look at me turning into a fucking poet, but then could anyone blame me?

Just a few hours ago, I enjoyed the cries of my victim, cutting him up bit by bit as his agonizing screams filled my ears and sent satisfaction through me.

Men who feast on the flesh of the weak do not deserve my mercy, so torturing this monster was the highlight of this weekend for me.

Two years ago, Diego introduced me to the art of killing where my canvas was my victim’s body, and the various torture devices became brushes and paint palettes in my hand designed to bring the most pain to the person on the receiving end of my cruelty.

He captured guys who participated in the crimes and thought they’d always get away with it, brought them to his dungeon, and shared his skills.

I watched and learned with awe as every killing calmed the screaming voices from my nightmares, letting me rest at night and be more normal each day.

Maybe I could sleep because I knew that each time my hands took a knife in them or a drill, I eliminated one more person who could strip someone of their childhood.

Diego also showed me how he found all these people and signed me up for boxing classes. According to him, I never knew where I might need to rely on my hands only. Plus he made me run six miles a day.

A hunter who cannot chase his prey is destined to lose at some point.

His exact words.

We met strictly on weekends, twice a month, and he forbade me seeking my own prey, but I’m starting to get restless from all these lessons.

I need independence.

Not to mention, Diego got married six months ago, and it has affected his actions.

He’s less ruthless and lately started all these speeches about not dedicating my life to all this “shit’’ as he called it.

Love changes people, apparently even killers, so I see myself building my own dungeon in the near future and controlling my own tortures.

This is also one of the reasons I will never get married. Who needs to drag a woman into such a life, and besides, why subject her to such an existence where she has to be touched by a monster?

Diego said that certain obsessions have a tendency to sweep over you and hold you tight, making you unable to see anyone but this woman.

I just laughed, replaceing the idea of being attached to one single woman like that unbelievable and stupid.

I discovered sex almost two years ago. I indulged in it rarely when physical needs overshadowed anything else.

Countless faceless women, who gave me a clear head after particularly intense tortures, grounded me in the present and reminded me that I could never drown in the hell of my creation.

I had a few set-in-stone rules though.

Never kissed them or stayed the night. Sure as fuck never cuddled or dated anyone.

Anything other than sex required emotions, and I would never give it to any woman, so why give them hope?

My heart died at the age of seven, and I have no desire to bring it back to life.

Besides, any woman would be a weakness, a liability, and I worked too hard to do what I want for some woman to ruin all my plans.

Life generally became almost perfect. During the weekdays, I studied at home, preparing to enroll in business school while Grandfather dearest finally accepted me as heir apparent, starting to share his wisdom and proudly showing me to his friends at the various golf clubs he invited me to.

My relationship with Dad though took a sour turn, when two years ago, he once again refused to speak about my mother, which resulted in a big fight, and afterwards, our conversations were strained.

We discussed the weather, my academic accomplishments, my summer abroad to see the world outside America, but anything deeper than that?

Nada.

He wasn’t even interested in where I was going, just nodded at me whenever I came back home and that was it.

I guess on some level, I should be grateful for his semi-indifference. Jacob always bitched how his father was breathing down his neck, demanding perfection in his designs, and reminding him about his responsibilities toward the family name.

My dad though?

He shut up Grandfather any time he tried to preach this shit to me as his eyes blazed in anger, telling me to follow the path I wanted but to keep the family name afloat, because a lot of people who worked for us depended on us.

After all these years, I still don’t get what their beef with each other is.

Harold runs after me, taking two steps at a time to catch up with me, and asks me, “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” I reply, pushing open the door, and then my brows rise when Harold jumps in front of me and points at the stairs.

“I’ll bring you food.”

“I’ll go to the kitchen and grab something for myself.”

He stands still though, blocking my way and rubs his hands, which alerts me to his nervousness.

Harold might act like a helicopter parent over me sometimes, but even for him, this behavior is out of character.

“Qué está pasando?”

He winces at my question and says again, “Please, would you go upstairs, Lucian?”

And that’s when I hear a loud crash reverberating through the walls, coming from the living room, and Harold closes his eyes in defeat. “He’s drinking again?”

Not sure why my butler feels the need to hide the fact from me. Even though Grandfather sent him to rehab, he was drinking again as soon as he came back home.

Clearly, love for alcohol trumps everything else for my father.

I take a step toward the stairs, not in the mood for his drunken slurs and hugs when I hear my grandfather’s harsh voice.

“Cuando terminará esto?”

When will this end?

Pushing Harold away as he tries to grab my elbow and stop me, I march to the living room, pausing in the doorway as I watch the two men facing each other, unaware of my presence.

Grandfather wears his suit as always, while my dad is barefoot, in sweatpants and a T-shirt, and a five o’clock shadow covers his chin.

Well, this means he is on day three of his drinking all right.

The shattered glass pieces scattered over the floor and the liquid slowly spreading in different directions lets me know they broke a few bottles of tequila judging by the smell floating in the air.

“How much longer will you drive yourself to an early grave with all this?” Grandfather waves another bottle of tequila in his hand and then throws it at the wall where it drops on the marble, cracking in several places and spilling the liquid once again. “I raised you better than that!”

My father’s hollow laugher echoes in the air, and he wipes his mouth while looking at his father in disbelief. “You raised me better than that?” He digs his fingers into his chest. “I’m exactly what you raised me to be. I extend the legacy and exist in the high society you wanted me to be part of. All this—” He motions his hand up and down his waist. “—is your doing.” He snags a new bottle from the bar and flicks it open. “Don’t worry, papá, no one knows about my dirty little secret. After all, we Cortez men know better than that, right?”

A muscle tics in Grandfather’s cheek, and his voice drops. “It all comes back to her, doesn’t it? Always about her.”

Dad straightens up, fury washing over him as he squeezes the bottle harder and snarls at Grandfather. “You don’t get to talk to me about Camille.”

I freeze, my pulse speeding up at my mother’s name and step closer, needing to hear whatever they say next.

Because apparently my father’s drinking problem is somehow connected to her.

“I did what was right,” Grandfather grits through his teeth, and Dad gulps tequila, scrunching his eyes as his Adam’s apple bobs. Then he slams the bottle back on the table. “You both were young, not even out of high school—”

“You did what was right for you! You didn’t think about me. About us! About our baby!”

Harold wraps his hand around my elbow again, pulling me away, and I glance at him. He must read the warning in my cold stare as he lets go, wiping away his tears.

Our baby.

So my parents were high school sweethearts who loved each other?

He knew about my existence and never searched for me?

No wonder he didn’t want to share!

Reining in the fury sliding into my veins and burning my blood, I stay in the same place, listening to their conversation so no fucking secrets will hide my past from me again.

“She was the daughter of my enemy. He practically delivered her to this house on a silver platter, and you fell for the trap. What did you expect me to do?”

“We loved each other!” Dad screams, tugging at his hair while his body vibrates in anger. “I wanted to marry her! She was mine. Mine! You didn’t let me!”

Grandfather huffs, loosening his tie while continuing to talk. “You were seventeen, almost eighteen! Your whole life was ahead of you. I couldn’t let you waste it on her. She would have ruined you and any future my heir could have had.”

I never knew my mother, but him speaking about her in such a manner makes me want to punch him so hard he would hit the wall.

What in the fuck did he do to her?

Dad laughs again, slapping himself in the pecs. “Look at me, Dad! Look at me! You ruined me. You ruined me when you sent her away pregnant while I was in Europe. You destroyed my life!” He grabs the bottle again, shaking it in front of Grandfather’s face. “You know why I drink? It’s because this gives me a temporary reprieve from this fucked-up reality where the woman I loved is dead and my son was subjected to living on the streets!”

“I didn’t know she was pregnant!” Grandfather yells, covering his face and groaning in his palms. “Do you think if I knew about my grandchild I would have sent her away?”

“You didn’t just send her away. You gave her a fake letter where I broke up with her and told her to get lost. When she needed me the most.” He gulps more of his drink, swaying a little to the side, and grips the top of the chair, steadying himself. “Camille believed I played with her. Her own father kicked her out because she decided to keep the baby. My woman is dead because of you.” Grandfather shakes his head in denial, but my father has no mercy for him tonight.

Ironically, I don’t have any either. A child might lose or never know his mother, but the pain in his soul does not become any less at her absence.

“And you know the most devastating part about all this?” He picks up the red journal he always reads. “I had to replace out about it all from the diary she sent me. Even about Lucian!” He screams the last part, pressing the journal to his heart. “My heart lies in it. I will never forgive you, Father, for taking my woman and child away from me.” He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling while they stare at one another for what seems like an eternity.

Finally, Grandfather sighs heavily. “Lo siento, hijo. For hurting you.” My father smirks, clearly not accepting the apology. “I tried to protect you. That’s all I did.” A beat passes. “You have a son now. You’d do anything to protect him. You should understand me. Please stop this madness and live normally.”

“When he needed me the most, I wasn’t there, Papá. My child experienced a nightmare. Because I believed you when you told me she left me. I have to live with this burden for the rest of my life.” He hangs his head, rubbing his chin on the journal. “So fucking let me. At least alcohol makes it bearable to look at my reflection in the mirror.”

“He’s with us now. The minute we found out about him, we searched for him relentlessly.”

“And it was too late, because the orphanage lost him after she died. He was just three! Thirteen years, Dad. Thirteen years. I see this hell in his eyes, and I hate myself even more.”

Well, I finally have all the answers to my questions.

Somehow, to my astonishment, they soothe the wounds inflicted on me because at the end of the day, my parents wanted me.

I was an unexpected surprise, but a surprise they kept.

Not disposable trash, but a love child of a couple of teenagers whose parents were too selfish to just let them be.

And as a result, they ruined not one but three lives.

Harold mutters, “Lucian, please.”

The men freeze, shifting their heads in my direction, and their eyes widen in an identical manner, realizing I’ve heard everything.

Grandfather sighs, removes his tie, and gives me a long look in which I think he tries to convey all his remorse, but right in this moment, I have nothing to give him.

If he had been more understanding…

But then Grandfather did what he was taught to do.

Family name above anything else, and if something stands in its way?

We conquer and destroy it.

What did Shakespeare say in his play Henry IV?

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

I’ve never agreed with the statement more.

“Not now,” I say, and he nods, spinning around and leaving me alone with my father as Harold trails after him.

He scans me from head to toe, his eyes glazed from all the alcohol he’s consumed. He reeks of tequila as he steps closer to me. “You have your mother’s smile, you know.” He grins, flips open the journal, and takes out the black-and-white photo, extending it to me as his hand trembles. “See?” I snatch it from him, gazing at the long-haired, beautiful girl laughing into the camera as she wraps her arms around my father’s neck while he kisses her on the cheek. “My beautiful girl.” He kisses the journal, pressing it tighter and then gives it to me as well. “Read it now. She wrote there about you too. First word, first steps. Even the cravings she had during her pregnancy.” His voice hitches on the last part. “I shouldn’t have kept it all to myself.” I grasp it, his grip so strong on the thing though it lets me know he doesn’t want to give it. “When I read it… I imagine her sitting next to me.” Tears stream down his cheeks, and he violently wipes them away. “Telling all this. As if she is still alive. And not dead because of pneumonia.”

So many unfamiliar emotions clog my throat, my insides screaming to run the fuck out because a monster should not have any feelings.

However, how can a person withstand the opportunity to learn something about a mother he never knew?

Also though… I hate all this, because all my anger and resentment aimed at my father seems misplaced now… as hard as it is to admit.

A seventeen-year-old boy believed his father and gave up on his love. Could I blame him?

Ironically, I still can, but it doesn’t give me the satisfaction it used to.

Instead, this situation is just plain sad and unfair like most of my life really.

What-ifs play in my mind.

However, what-ifs no longer belong in my life.

Father finally frees the journal, and I put the photo inside it, shutting it and standing awkwardly while he does the same.

Then he whispers, “I’m sorry for being weak, son.” He throws himself at me, and I still in shock, his strong arms wrapping tightly around me. “I love you, Lucian. I’m bad at showing it, but I do. I really, really love you. Forgive me for failing you.” He starts crying, soaking my jacket while his entire body shakes.

Fisting my hands, I raise my arms up and return the embrace for the first time, despite it hurting everything inside me, and let him replace the atonement he has begged for ever since he brought me home.

We are all sinners to a certain degree.

My father numbs his pain and weakness in alcohol; I kill people, justifying my actions with the words that they are hideous monsters.

Except killing them is also my weakness, and I will never get atonement for that.

I forgive my father, forgive him for something he could never control, although it does nothing to soothe the inferno in my soul that only blazes brighter now.

He cries in my arms for a few more minutes, explaining how he searched everywhere and would have given everything to turn back time and fix his mistakes.

He sobs so much that at some point, he just sags in my arms, losing consciousness, and I drag him upstairs to his bed.

I read the whole journal in one night, detesting every word my mother used to describe her love for me, because I grew up to be a villain when she was willing to run away from her luxurious life for me.

To give me this life because she called me her little prince who one day would meet his father.

That was her greatest wish for us all, to reunite, except her dream did not come true.

She wouldn’t be proud of me, and that’s another burden I’ll have to live with forever.

In the morning, Dad stays home, having breakfast, and I silently put the journal on the table, giving it back to him, and he exhales in relief.

And we talk about business as if the previous evening never happened, in our usual routine, but without the tension present between us.

Three months later, my father died in a plane crash, and nothing was ever the same in the Cortez household.

The mansion became a graveyard to all my grandfather’s hopes and sucked the air out of me for all the things that could have been.

We couldn’t coexist in the same place. Our combined resentment toward each other and the inability to push past what happened to us both because of his actions made living in the same city impossible.

So I discovered New York, prospering in the city, while my grandfather still controlled the company for a few more years before he died peacefully in his bed.

I forgave him eventually; after all, he was the result of his upbringing, and I even visited him from time to time. His pain and my coldness though didn’t make for a good, healing combination or company.

I finally ascended the throne I so craved and for which my father sacrificed his life, because that’s what we do.

Family and responsibility above anyone or anything else.

As loneliness and boredom filled my soul, I wondered if that was the destiny of all men in my family.

To suffer and die alone but with our principles intact, not daring to do anything out of the norm.

Over the years, I didn’t just agree but understood the statement too.

Because indeed.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Esmeralda

“This habit becomes the norm it seems,” I mutter as I wave the note Lucian once again has left behind, informing me he had an emergency in his company, so he had to go there this morning. “And it annoys me greatly.” Although my body still tingles in all the places after our night together. We’ve finally bonded on a soul-deep level because my villain came to me with his open wounds, allowing me to see into his dark heart.

Still.

Am I destined to wake up alone every single time we make love?

Crushing the note and throwing it in the bin, I check myself in the mirror one last time, twirling around and appreciating how the jeans hug my legs, and since Lucian had no shirts for me in yet another bag, I had to snag his.

Wrapping the ends of the shirt in a knot on my waist, I quickly go downstairs, clipping my hair up on the way, and exhale in relief when I detect the smell of tea wafting in the air.

My sneakers tap on the floor, alerting the two men in the kitchen who jump up from the table, though I see they’re not wearing a uniform today, and their eyes are red-rimmed.

Well, someone for sure had fun with the scotch last night.

Ricardo orders, “Not a word,” using his stern grandpa tone that he hadn’t dared before. Then he snatches a plate and puts several waffles on it.

Harold wraps his hand around his coffee and inhales the fragrance. After he takes a tentative sip, he nods at me. “Good morning, Esmeralda.”

Wow, I’m even Esmeralda now.

He must read amused surprise on my face as he drops back on his chair, explaining. “Today is Sunday. I’m off duty and can act as I damned well wish.”

So they get one day in this house to say and do whatever they want without having to put on a polite persona to the world?

Oh, that’s just awesome.

Suddenly, all Sundays start to look really fun.

“You tell them, Harold,” I say, winking at him, and he laughs along with Ricardo who brings my plate and mug to me, placing them on the table. “I have a feeling we three having breakfast together will become a tradition in this house.”

Harold huffs, sipping his coffee. “I’ve tried teaching manners to this boy for more than twenty years, and he still doesn’t listen to me.”

After pouring strawberry syrup on my waffle, I dig in as Ricardo continues the rant, drumming his fingers on the wood. “Would it be so hard for him just once to have breakfast with us all? Stubborn as Alejandro and Juan.”

“Worse!” the butler exclaims while I just nod and munch on the delicious waffle melting on my tongue, barely restraining myself from bursting out laughing. Right now, they are just two grumpy old men complaining about the younger generation. “At least he married you right away. Juan didn’t even do that!”

My husband has yet to share things about his family and the pain he harbors inside from them, so I mark the whole marriage thing to ask him about later.

“True.” Ricardo snags Harold’s mug, takes a few sips, and then exhales. “We need to retire.”

“Yes, preferably ask him to buy some beach house in California and move away.”

“He doesn’t eat my breakfast anyway.”

Apparently, that’s the greatest sin to Ricardo.

Drinking my tea, I watch them silently as they clearly do not need my comments, and glance at the clock hanging on the wall.

I have five more minutes before the driver shows up. Lila called an hour ago and woke me up, reminding me to get my ass ready.

For a woman who just became my manager, she sure is bossy.

After a prolonged silence in which only my fork tapping against the plate echoes through the room as I finish my food, Harold finally speaks up. “We might have a little Cortez running around here soon.” I almost choke on my tea at this, placing my free hand on my stomach as an odd and unfamiliar sensation spreads through me at the idea of carrying our baby.

Yet fear pierces through me, because I’ve never considered bringing a child into a world that makes him so vulnerable to all the evilness it possesses.

But we haven’t used any protection, so chances are I could already be pregnant.

Oh God.

The men are unaware about the havoc their conversation has inspired as they continue.

“I can cook them treats.”

“They might be nicer than Lucian.”

“Oh! I don’t think I want to retire now, Harold.”

“Me neither.”

A collective exhale issues from them, and I shake my head, gulping my tea as they grin at each other, happy with the decision they just made.

Although, the idea of my child having two grandfathers who would adore him or her warms my heart.

Ah, once you marry a villain nothing stays the same.

On cue, the doorbell rings, and I get up. “The driver is here.” Harold stands up as well, probably wanting to walk me to the door. “No need, you have the day off today. Relax.” Then I address Ricardo. “Thank you, the food was delicious. If Lucian comes back before I’m home, remind him I went to check out the building please.”

Spinning around, I race to the door as the doorbell rings again and open it, plastering a smile on my face, only to frown in confusion when I see a tall man on the other side wearing jeans and a sweater.

He has sunglasses on, and his hair is combed back as he grins at me; however, somehow it sends horrible shivers down my spine, and I want to cover myself from his prying eyes—even through the sunglasses. “Esmeralda,” he greets me while I freeze, stepping back a little, and bump into Harold, who followed me despite my protest.

Esmeralda.

Only close friends call me by this name, as most of the world addresses me by Rebecca.

“Who are you?”

“Lila didn’t call?” he asks with surprise and removes his sunglasses, giving me a view of his predatory orbs that glimmer under the sunshine yet stay absolutely cold. “I’m showing you the building today.” After a beat, he elaborates, “I had a chat with her this morning, and she mentioned wanting to pick you up, and since my office is in the neighborhood, I figured I could swing by.” He looks at Harold. “How are you, man? Didn’t have the chance to talk to you last night.”

I glance at the butler and see recognition in his gaze, although he doesn’t break into his usual pleasantries. “Alec.” He says his name. “Not since your fight with Lucian all those years ago.” Coldness coats his voice, and I groan inwardly, wondering how many old friends Lucian fought with roam around.

My man sure gets rid of anyone who doesn’t follow his rules or moral code.

Alec waves his hand in dismissal. “Water under the bridge. He did invite me to the party last night, right?” Harold’s brows furrow, and the man focuses his stare on me again. “Anyhow, if you are still interested, let’s go. But if you’re uncomfortable, we can call Lila and ask for that driver.” His words and tone stay even, his posture relaxed, yet I cannot help but feel threatened by his presence.

And I hate myself for it, because the world shouldn’t be a place where I’m afraid or question everything.

My friend sent this man to me, and he certainly mingles among our circle, coming here in the light of day, so why would he do it if his intentions were harmful?

Be brave, Esme.

I promised myself to start fresh and anew in Chicago, so I’ll be brave and explore this life that’s a precious gift.

Not a cage where I have boundaries I can’t cross for fear of someone hurting me.

“That won’t be necessary. Let’s go.”

“Esmeralda, maybe—” Harold starts as I place my hand on his chest, patting it lightly.

“Everything is fine. I’ll be back soon.”

He nods and then glares in warning at Alec who shrugs, either used to people not liking him much due to the creepy aura he emits, or he simply does not give a shit about anyone’s feelings.

The door closes behind me, and we quickly walk to his car, get inside, and I fasten my seatbelt, gripping the door handle tighter when he speeds up so fast my head hits the seat.

“Sorry. Just bought this baby.” He moves his hands smoothly over the leather steering wheel.

“Congratulations,” I mutter, turning my attention to the scenery outside so hopefully he gets the hint and stops talking to me.

My hope falls on deaf ears though.

“I’ve seen some of your work in New York; it’s amazing. Such a young age, such a big talent.” An odd note coats his tone, and I glance at him, but his expression stays the same. He looks straight ahead since we get on the narrow road probably leading to town. “In fact, I’m a bit jealous.”

My brows shoot up in surprise. “Jealous? Why?” I’m not sure what he does in life. But considering his expensive car and the gold watch wrapped around his wrist, he must be rich.

“I’m an artist myself.”

“Oh.”

He takes a hard turn to the right, making me lean on the door, and we head into the deep woods; however, it still has an asphalt road, so I stay calm. It must be a shortcut. “I’d never make a living out of it though.”

“You’ll never know until you try.”

He chuckles. “My first and last masterpiece took me ten years to finish, and I’m still not done.”

Masterpiece.

My stomach flips and goose bumps break on my skin. The hairs on my body stand on end, and I shift uncomfortably, yet the guy stays calm, smiling at me. “Soon though it will be done, and maybe then I can hang it in one of your galleries.” A beat passes, and while he makes yet another turn, taking us farther and farther between the heavy trees brushing their branches over the ground, he asks, “Would you like that?”

“Lila is my manager, so she’ll get to decide such stuff from now on.” Glancing around, I don’t see the way ahead. We’re driving on a bumpy road now. “Where are you taking me?”

“To the building I wanted to show you all along.” The way he words it sounds as if I’m insane for even asking such a question.

“Lila told me it’s in the center of the town.” Why would I want to open a gallery in the freaking woods? Did they misunderstand each other? “I’m afraid I’m not interested in the building if it’s here.” Clearing my throat, I say, “Please take me back home.”

Alec clacks his tongue, pressing on the accelerator more and driving forward, not paying attention to my protest. “You have to see it for yourself first, Esmeralda.” His hold on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white, and his voice dropping a few octaves. “You have to see it. It’s beautiful.”

Alarm bells ring loudly in my head as the familiar fear present in me for the last ten years rears its head. I stare around to see that the man has taken me to the middle of nowhere, and I willingly got in his damned car!

Breathing through the panic swirling in the pit of my stomach, I try my best to relax and stop imagining hideous pictures just because the man next to me acts a little bit suspicious.

Maybe my own trauma rules me right now, and the man simply wants to show me his building in the hope of me falling in love with it.

I open my mouth to say something as the silence between us weighs heavily in the car’s closed interior when the oak trees open up to a view of a two-level house.

A square-shaped regular-sized house that would so easily fit in with any suburban backdrop. It has a white-picket fence, brown colors covering its walls, and a swing occupies the porch, swaying slightly in the breeze.

Perfectly cut grass surrounds it as it stands right in the middle of the woods. A few birds chirp on the roof, basking in the sunshine.

The sight of all this pushes my breakfast to the surface, threatening to hurl all over my lap as paralyzing fear fills every cell in my body, and I cannot utter a single word or move because I’m terrified of the man sitting next to me.

My heart gallops inside my chest. I feel the pulse in my throat, and cold sweat breaks on my skin, sliding down my back while the man’s laughter reverberates through the inside of the car.

The house is an exact replica of my childhood home, down to the cracks on the fence that Dad never got to fix.

“Welcome home, Esmeralda,” Alec says. “Tonight, we’ll finally finish my masterpiece.”

My mind finally recognizes the despicable voice that I’ve tried to forget all these years.

I shouldn’t have tried so hard. Maybe then I wouldn’t have fallen right into his trap!

“Do you like the surprise I prepared for you?” These words finally snap me out of my stupor, and I press on the handle, ready to bolt from the car and run as far away as possible, shouting my lungs out to whoever listens.

A click echoes in the air, freezing me on the spot, as he aims his gun at me and whispers, “Nah-ah, darling.” He winks at me, and his face is so clear to me now it inspires a series of flashbacks, showing me in all his hideous glory.

A veil that protected me all these years lifts from my psyche, sending me flying into the devastating pit where all truth lies.

The boy who stalked my sister, he had long, shaggy hair that covered half his face and thick glasses that made it impossible to study his features.

However, up this close along with all the other memories, I know with clarity that it’s him.

The man who killed my mother so viciously, the monster who destroyed my life…was Evangeline’s handsome prince.

Oh my God.

He cocks his head to the side, waving his gun up and down. “Now we’re going to play by my rules.” He slides the tip of the gun over my cheek while my hands fist on my lap, the nails digging into my palm. “And compared to Lucian, I will punish you accordingly for ruining my life.”

Pushing the shock, fear, and hate aside, I put a lid over these emotions and focus only on rational thinking that has the power to save my life.

A tiny chance is still a chance.

His masterpiece always required my death to finish the composition.

So does it matter what I do now if, at the end of it all, death awaits me?

I quickly open the door as his hand grabs air, my shoulder just out of his reach, and I fall on the ground. I still the cry of pain when my knees bear the brunt.

Getting up swiftly, I race in the opposite direction of the house, back into the forest, shouting with all my might, “Help!” While bullets fire at my feet, his heavy thudding behind me tells me he’s running after me, so I speed up. “Help please!”

“Come back here, you bitch!” he screams and using all the strength I have, I add more power to my feet when he fires several more times, the ground jumping next to me, and I dart to the side avoiding the bullets.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Help!” I shout once again, but my cries stay unheard in this forest where only birds serve as witnesses to my misery.

I step on a rock, twisting my ankle, and it sends me stumbling forward where I fall hard, my chin connecting with the ground as I cry out from the pain traveling from my ankle to my calf and knee. I dig my nails into the cold soil under my palm, pushing myself up, the adrenaline rush spreading in my veins and urging me to keep going.

Because as long as I do, I have a chance.

However, that’s when his heavy breathing becomes closer and closer, and as I struggle to get up, my foot refusing to listen to me, his hand fists my hair, dragging me back, and a hurtful groan escapes me. “You will not ruin my painting twice, Esmeralda!” He screams right into my ear as he slams the gun’s grip on my head.

The last thoughts playig in my mind before oblivion claims me make me almost wish I’d listened to my gut back at the mansion so I wouldn’t have to face this soulless creature again.

The man chasing me in my nightmares has finally captured me.

And unfortunately, there is no waking up from this one.

Because the horrible dream has become a tragic reality.

Lucian

Scanning through the latest report on the recent fire erupting in one of my companies in Boston, I growl in anger at not replaceing the culprit or why one of my men ended up in the hospital with second degree burns.

Pressing on the intercom, I wait for the soft female voice to speak up. “Yes, sir?”

“Savanna, if the police call, transfer it to me right away.”

“Of course.”

“Also, any update on Whitney’s surgery?” Anger spreads through me at reading how the hardworking man was trapped under the wood while the firefighters tried to get to him, but due to the hard position, it took longer than they anticipated.

All because someone intentionally set fire on the top floor, and it’s only by sheer luck we don’t have more victims on our hands.

Whoever that man is… he better run fast because my wrath will be absolute.

I couldn’t give a fuck about destruction of my property.

But my people? Their fear and pain?

You do not fuck with them and go unscathed.

“His daughter informed me that his surgery went well. The doctor is hopeful he will still have the use of his hands, although he’ll still need a couple of plastic surgeries.”

“Make sure he gets the best care, and check if his family needs anything. Also contact the doctor to ask him what kind of equipment Whitney would need after he is discharged.’’

She types the orders, her keyboard clicking quietly before she clears her throat. “Mr. Reed called. He’d like to have dinner with you sometime this week. What should I reply to him?”

Fuck.

Kenneth and his death threats that sound more like imaginary problems of a workaholic who thinks everyone is out there ready to snatch his empire from under his nose.

That being said, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to his kid.

A man who knew hunger would never subject another one to it.

“Make a reservation for Friday somewhere quiet. Anything else?”

“No, sir.”

I remove my finger from the intercom and go to the huge window serving as a wall and giving me a sense of freedom in this office by opening up a view onto the busy streets of Chicago.

A magnificent city that deserves all the praise it gets and a perfect location to start fresh with my gatita.

A smile shapes my mouth as my heart pangs in my chest, reminding me about my lilac-haired beauty who I had to leave this morning after spending the night loving her in the only way I know how.

This soul-deep emotion obsessed with making her happy, cherished. An emotion urging me to create heaven on earth for her, so she never regrets choosing me.

Is this love everyone speaks so highly of and I never experienced?

I need her to breathe, and satisfaction fills every pore at seeing my marks on her.

Especially the two rings that are a symbol of our union.

She’s mine.

The princess, who never should have ended up with the villain, is his and only his.

However, my love can never be pure; if so, I will drag her back home if she ever plans to leave me when my madness and obsession might become too much for her.

Right now, I finally understand my father who couldn’t live normally without my mother. If he felt for her an ounce of the feelings I do for Esmeralda, then I wouldn’t wish his fate on anyone.

My mind travels to the two monsters chasing us down who still haven’t made a single move despite me giving them endless opportunities last night.

Eugene even surveilled the place as well but came up blank, although I laughed in the morning when he said that the girls planned to purchase a building.

Because was he fucking kidding me? As if I’d let my woman go around the city when there was a man ready to kill her or use her to kill me.

By my voice, he guessed I was dead serious when I ordered him to inform his wife that she better cancel the whole thing.

So my wife probably won’t be in the best of moods tonight once I come home.

Thank God for good friends like Eugene and Jacob though, who would always stay by my side no matter what.

The door to my office bursts open, pulling me away from my thoughts, and I spin around to see Andreas barging inside as an exasperated Savanna runs after him. “You cannot enter without permission, sir.”

He flashes her a grin, although his eyes stay ice-cold and distaste mars his features, a distaste that he saves only for serving personnel. “Oh, come on, darling. You’ve known me for years. I have access to this building.”

Savanna’s lip curls; she fists her hand, and annoyance crosses her face while her chest rises and falls. Although she barely reaches his chin, she still stands her ground. “You have to leave.”

“He can stay,” I say, watching pleasure light up his orbs as my secretary’s shoulders sag in defeat. “First though, apologize to Savanna. And you do not call her darling, Andreas. Ever.”

She straightens up quickly after that, sending me a grateful smile as Andreas huffs and crosses his arms. “You have to be kidding me.”

“Either apologize or get the fuck out.”

Considering he has been trying to see me ever since he came back to Chicago, not to mention endless calls received here and at home during his banishment years, he will comply with the order.

An order that he must viciously hate, because if there is one thing Andreas despises… it’s showing any respect toward women.

One of the reasons he stopped being a wolf in my pack and a trusted friend over the years, transforming into a nuisance who deemed himself invincible just because we shared a horrific past all these years ago.

My father gave Andreas a unique opportunity when he found good people who adopted him, showering him with love and attention that he thrived on.

Except he wanted the power and recognition his family name failed to give him—well compared to mine anyway, and I should have seen the first sign of his character when he came to visit me.

His eyes drank in all the riches, my staff, even my wardrobe, and he couldn’t hide his jealousy.

While I gave him many things and asked my father to pay for his tuition to college so we could attend it together, he started to get used to using my name and our friendship in any way to protect himself from any harm.

He spent money carelessly, didn’t study for shit, and drank too much while participating in every frat party hosted at the university.

Still though, whenever I looked at him, I saw the small, skinny boy who starved for love and food, so I let a lot of things slide even though he grew more and more into an entitled asshole.

Besides, I figured everyone dealt with their demons differently. I killed monsters to sustain mine, and Andreas needed attention to feel he wasn’t alone anymore.

However, his idiotic behavior only worsened with the years, and no one liked him as he had little respect for anyone unless they were above him financially. My other friends like Jacob and Eugene flat-out refused to show up anywhere in his company.

In my last attempt of saving him, I opened a small company and took him as a partner, hoping that by giving him a purpose and some status that he desperately craved, he’d get his head out of his ass and finally grow the fuck up.

Deep down, I knew it was a mistake though, but out of a sense of loyalty for all the years we spent in hell where he was the only one I had, I wanted to help him. Although he was a hopeless case.

Forcing himself on Blair was the last straw. I was walking out on the terrace when she screamed in protest several feet away, doing her best to push him away while he put his mouth on her, blocking her exit.

I still remember how rage filled every one of my bones, and I strode to them, gripping his nape and dragging him away while she sobbed into her hands.

Not waiting for anyone else, I took him to the garden away from prying eyes and beat the shit out of him, until his nose and ribs cracked under my fists.

Her stupid brothers didn’t give a shit anyway; they kicked him for good measure but forgave him the minute he offered money to pay off their debts.

That was the end for me.

My loyalty will last for only so long, but any kind of force… A man who doesn’t mind harming women can’t call himself a man.

I banished him to France where he had to support himself and cut off all financial help he got from me previously, then made sure everyone knew he no longer was in my close circle.

The fucker of course called and begged for forgiveness, but I don’t give second chances.

Even to the boy who lived through similar nightmares as me.

Andreas speaks up, as he addresses Savanna. “I apologize for being rude and for calling you darling.” His jaw tics, and the vein in his neck strains, showing how much it costs him to say these words.

Savanna nods but still glares at him as she leaves the office, shutting the door quietly after her.

“What do you want, Andreas?” My tone stays cold as I sit on my chair, and he occupies the one opposite me.

“Forgiveness,” he says, exhaling heavily. “Lucian, please stop this war between us and listen to me.”

I raise my splayed palm, and he rolls his lips, recognizing the gesture well. “You forcibly kissed Blair during her sixteenth birthday party. My eyes were certainly not deceiving me.”

He places his connected hands on the table and lowers his voice. “It was a mistake, Lucian. I was drunk. I didn’t even comprehend what I was doing.” He swallows hard. “She forgave me, and her brothers don’t harbor any resentment either. It’s just you and me, amigo. Please. I don’t drink anymore. I’ll never do it again.”

Except he would.

So far, I have no reports on Andreas acting out on these urges, but the minute I do…

My rage will have no boundaries, and he will face the fate of all my victims.

“Is that all?” I ask, not interested in his bullshit, and anger settles on his features as he groans loudly and gets up, pacing the office back and forth while lacing his fingers through his hair.

That’s when the diamond watch glistening under the light catches my attention.

The reason I banished him to France was because he had no connections there and would have to work his ass off to even support himself. His adoptive parents died in a car accident when we were in college, and the money they left, he lost in a weekend in Vegas, cruising the casinos.

Yet he wears expensive clothes, accessories, and even the car the other day was the latest model that must have cost a fortune.

Where does he get his money if he doesn’t work for shit?

A strange suspicion dances in mind, ready to open the truth to me yet still hiding in the shadows, not revealing to me why all these details about him unsettle me.

Unaware about my gut feeling screaming something at me, Andreas continues to talk. “One mistake. One simple mistake shouldn’t cost me our friendship, Lucian.” He plasters his hands on my desk, looming above me while I barely hold back from laughing in his face.

Friendship?

What friendship?

If I don’t look at our relationship through the prism of loyalty, then it’s clear Andreas used me his whole life, even back when we lived in the basement.

I was necessary to his survival, so he stuck with me, and then he thought he could ride off on my back toward building his empire where he let his selfish desires rule him.

Although how a man planned to have one if he refused to put in the fucking work is beyond me.

“A mistake.” I taste the word in my mouth and then get up, facing him as he backs off a little. He might act like a dominating alpha, but we both know deep down a coward lives inside him. “Is this what forcing yourself on someone is called now?”

Andreas groans. “Okay, it was a bad word. You know me. Our past. I’d never do it again!” he swears, placing his hand on his chest for good measure.

Andreas certainly thinks highly of himself if he assumes I’ll believe this bullshit.

“Face the consequences of your actions and get the fuck out of my city.”

Something flashes on his face while his eyes squint in annoyance, but he covers it up with indifference. He starts pleading again. “Lucian, come on. Stop punishing me and accept me again. Remember me and you against the world?” He clutches his shirt. “No one understands you better than me. We have a deep bond. Let’s use it for something great. Let’s build an empire.”

Deep bond?

Fuck that.

Cruelty consumes Andreas, and somehow our mutual experience shaped him into a person who reminds me more and more of the clients visiting James’s hell to acquire their latest toys.

Cold, amused, believing that everyone should bow their heads to him.

Such a man should never have power because he’ll never use it for good, only to dominate the weaker people around him.

But until he commits a real crime, I can’t do anything about him.

“Why would I build one if I already have one?” He snarls at the reminder of my power. “Get the fuck out, Andreas, and stop living in the past. We aren’t friends anymore. We are nothing.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, betrayal written all over his face as he steps back, gaping at me. “It’s because of her, isn’t it?” I frown. What does my wife have to do with this? “You tasted love, and you’ve gone soft. You now have someone in your corner, and you don’t need me anymore, huh?”

My laughter rocks off the walls, vibrating my chest, while his idiotic conclusion astonishes me, and I wonder if maybe he’s been insane all along and just hid it well. “I never needed you, Andreas. We were friends, but you don’t know how to value things in life.”

“You’ll regret this. Someday, you will wake up with that wife of yours and regret turning your back on me.”

“I will never regret it. Threaten me or my wife again though, and I guarantee you I’ll never show you mercy again.”

“Famous last words, Lucian,” he says and then with a last snarl gets out of the office, shutting the door firmly after him, but my hunting instincts are still on high alert.

Because Andreas will act out for sure. However, his words play in my mind.

Let’s build an empire.

Expensive watches.

His paranoid need to reestablish contact with me and blaming my wife in all this.

A controlled expression before losing his composure and letting his emotions rule him.

Not like before though, no, this Andreas has something that four years ago he didn’t.

Confidence.

The blocks in my head align, creating a structure, but the picture still isn’t clear enough for me to latch onto and spring into action.

A phone ringing snaps me out of my thoughts, and I grab the handset, barking, “Yes.”

“Lucian,” Harold’s worried voice says on the other end, “Esmeralda left with Alec so he could show her his property. The one they want to buy for the gallery.”

Alec?

That guy who considered himself my and Jacob’s friend just because we attended the same college?

His father was an asshole who beat him a lot and degraded him in public. He spent most of his days wishing for the old man to die so he could get his inheritance. He ended up falling from the second floor and breaking his neck, so Alec got his wish.

He was an okay guy, although very clingy and had violent tendencies that didn’t really fly with me, yet he behaved better than Andreas who he worshiped.

He fell in love though, and that changed everything for him.

Marina, that’s what he called her. Although I’ve never seen her, she consumed his thoughts, and he lived and breathed for her.

She even called me once, needing something, but when I showed up at Alec’s penthouse, she was nowhere to be found, and he just lay on the couch with a headache and bottle of whiskey by his feet.

We had a falling out a year later when he tried to interfere with one of my takeovers, and a good employee of mine was injured in the process.

“Why was he allowed inside the property?” I ask Harold who gets quiet and then replies, his voice even more frantic now.

“He said you guys made up, and he attended the party last night. He had an invitation.” Everything inside me goes cold, a realization hitting me while I squeeze the handset hard, cursing.

A killer.

Marina.

Was it Evangeline?

“Lila called and said the whole thing was canceled, so I’m very worried now, Lucian. He took her.”

Emotions threaten to overpower me, agony building in my chest at the thought of my woman being kidnapped by the murderer who destroyed her life.

I didn’t protect what’s mine, and now she must be terrified while he executes whatever plan he has for her.

And the whole fire in my company?

The perfect decoy to get me out of the house and ambush her all alone without any weapons to protect herself.

One. Two. Three.

I mentally count to ten, gathering all my strength while squashing the man inside me who loves the woman, and drag up the monster residing in my soul who craves to sink his claws in the fucker who scared and dared to touch what’s mine.

Emotions cannot rule me, as emotional villains do not save the princess.

They lose them.

Think, Lucian, think.

Where the fuck could he have taken her in Chicago and…

Then a memory from a long time ago pops in my mind.

I bought some land closer to your home. Can you believe it? Someone was selling it and I used this opportunity. Marina would love it.

The land that he showed me once.

The woods.

They are located thirty minutes away from the mansion, and that’s where he took her.

“Lucian?” Harold asks.

“Call Eugene and Jacob. Tell them to go to the woods. As soon as fucking possible.”

I hang up, grab the keys and a gun, and rush outside to Savanna’s shocked face.

My woman is in danger, and judging by how quickly everything escalated, I don’t have time to waste, as Alec’s actions will be unpredictable.

Hold on, gatita.

Just hold on.

This time around you won’t be alone in your nightmare.