Lexi

I was drinking my morning coffee and trying not to read the comments on the latest gossip blog post about Lucian and me when my phone rang. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Is this Lexi Carter?" The voice was crisp, professional, with just a hint of a French accent.

"Who's asking?"

"This is Giselle Laurent. I believe you know who I am."

I nearly choked on my coffee. Lucian's ex-fiancée, calling me directly. This couldn't be good.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I want to meet you. There are things you should know about Lucian. Things that might change your perspective on your... relationship."

"I don't think so."

"Oh, but I think you do." Her voice took on a silky quality that somehow managed to sound threatening. "You see, I've been watching the news coverage of you two. It's quite fascinating, really. The way he parades you around like some kind of trophy. The way he can't seem to function without you by his side."

"What's your point?"

"My point, darling, is that I've seen this before. Lucian has a pattern. He finds someone vulnerable, someone grateful, someone who thinks they've won the lottery by catching his attention. And then, when he gets bored..."

She let the sentence hang in the air.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I said, but I could hear the uncertainty in my own voice.

"Don't I? Tell me, Lexi, what did you do before Lucian? What was your career like? Your social life? Your financial situation?"

I didn't answer, but she continued anyway.

"I'm guessing it wasn't great. I'm guessing you were struggling, desperate even. And then along comes Prince Charming with his private jets and his penthouse and his job offer that's too good to be true."

"It's not like that."

"Isn't it? Darling, I lived with Lucian for three years. I know how he operates. He doesn't like equals—he likes projects. People he can save, control, mold into what he wants them to be."

"You're wrong."

"Am I? Then why hasn't he introduced you to his family? Why haven't you met his sister, his mother? Why are all your appearances together business-related?"

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. She had a point. In all the weeks I'd been with Lucian, I'd met his business associates, his security team, his staff. But not his family.

"I thought so," Giselle said, satisfaction clear in her voice. "Meet me at Café Noir on Fifth Avenue. One hour. If you care about him at all, you'll want to hear what I have to say."

She hung up before I could respond.

I sat there staring at my phone, my coffee growing cold. Everything she'd said was wrong. It had to be. Lucian wasn't controlling or manipulative. He was kind, protective, generous...

But a small voice in the back of my head whispered: "Just like he was with her."

An hour later, I was sitting in an upscale café, trying not to fidget as I waited. Giselle Laurent was exactly what I'd expected—tall, blonde, elegant in that effortless way that screamed money and breeding. She looked like she belonged in Lucian's world in a way I never would.

"Lexi," she said, sliding into the seat across from me. "Thank you for coming."

"Let's just get this over with," I said. "What do you want?"

"I want to save you from making the same mistake I did." She signaled the waiter for coffee. "Tell me, has Lucian told you why we broke up?"

"He said you wanted different things."

Giselle laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Is that what he said? How diplomatic of him."

"What really happened?"

"What happened was that I made the mistake of having my own opinions. Of wanting to pursue my own career instead of being content to be his beautiful accessory." She leaned forward. "You see, Lucian is wonderful as long as you do exactly what he wants, when he wants it. But the moment you try to assert any independence..."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Tell me, Lexi, when was the last time you made a decision about your own life? When was the last time you went somewhere without him, did something without his approval?"

I thought about it and realized with growing horror that I couldn't remember.

"He's isolated you," Giselle continued. "Slowly, carefully, but completely. You live in his apartment, work for his company, attend his events. Your entire life revolves around him."

"That's not... it's not like that."

"Isn't it? What happens if you disagree with him on something important? What happens if you want to take a job he doesn't approve of, or spend time with friends he doesn't like?"

"He's not like that."

"No? Then why are you here, defending him to his ex-fiancée instead of telling him about this conversation?"

I stared at her, my mouth suddenly dry.

"Because," she said softly, "deep down, you know I'm right. You know that your relationship with Lucian isn't really a relationship at all. It's a benevolent dictatorship."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I genuinely like you. I've been watching the coverage, reading the interviews. You seem like a smart, independent woman who deserves better than being someone's pet."

"And what exactly do you suggest I do?"

"Test him. Do something he doesn't want you to do. Make a decision without consulting him first. See what happens."

She stood up, leaving money on the table for her untouched coffee.

"One more thing," she said, pausing at my chair. "Ask him about Sarah."

"Who's Sarah?"

"Someone else who thought she was special. Someone else who thought she was different from all the rest." Giselle's smile was sharp. "Ask him what happened to her."

After she left, I sat in the café for another hour, my mind racing. Everything she'd said was wrong. It had to be. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how little I actually knew about Lucian's past relationships, his family, his life before me.

And I couldn't stop thinking about the name Sarah.

When I finally returned to the penthouse, Lucian was in his office on a conference call. I could hear him through the closed door, his voice sharp and commanding as he discussed some merger or acquisition.

I wandered around the apartment, seeing it with new eyes. My clothes hanging in his closet. My books on his shelves. My coffee mug in his kitchen.

But nothing that was just mine. Nothing that existed independent of him. My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

“Check your email - G.”

The email contained a single attachment. A news article from two years ago. The headline read: "Cross' Media Entertainment Employee Found Dead in Apparent Suicide."

The employee's name was Sarah Mitchell.

I stared at the article, my hands shaking. According to the report, Sarah was Lucian’s personal assistant. She'd been found dead in her apartment from a drug overdose, though she had a history of drug use.

The article mentioned that she'd been distraught over personal matters in the weeks before her death.

“Lexi?” Lucian’s voice made me jump. I quickly closed the email and turned around.

“How was your call?” I asked, trying to sound normal.

“Fine. Is everything okay? You look pale.” He said, concerned.

“I'm fine. Just tired.” I replied without looking at him.

He studied my face then crossed the room to me. “Are you sure? You seem…”

“I said I'm fine.” I snapped, stepping away.

His eyes narrowed in surprise. “Okay.” He said carefully. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“I don't need you to make sure of anything, Lucian. I'm an adult.” I said harshly and it hurt him.

“Of course you are. I didn't mean to imply…”

“Didn't you?” The words were coming out before I could stop them. “When was the last time I made a decision about my own life, Lucían? When was the last time I did something without checking with you first?!”

The silence was long and deafening and Lucian looked really hurt and worried.

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked, his voice low.

And that I realized was exactly the problem.