Mag-log inHe should have been satisfied. Lucas had dismantled the Montage Empire, reduced its legacy to ash. Arabella Montage had nothing left: no power, no family, no future. Just her name and a heartbeat he hadn’t yet taken. But when he saw her on that auction stage, trembling under harsh lights, something inside him shifted. She was being sold like livestock. A girl once untouchable, now displayed for the highest bidder. He was the architect of her ruin. And still... he bought her. She was the last remaining piece of the empire he had destroyed. And he needed to possess it. To possess her. To own the symbol of everything he had conquered. To fill the aching void that victory hadn't satisfied. She used to be a free bird. Until he clipped her wings. Now, he would remake her. Mold her. Give her purpose again, just so he could tear it all away. Break her. Destroy her, all over again. He didn’t want her dead. Anything was acceptable, as long as her heart kept beating. To her, he’s just another powerful man playing God. But one thing becomes terrifyingly clear: Lucas will keep her heart beating, just so he can be the one to crush it. Again and again
view more“Arabella,” Lucas rasped, glancing down at her limp body sprawled across his chest, her head resting against him as he sped through the darkened highway. The dashboard lights flickered against her pale skin, her breathing shallow, uneven.“Hold on, please, doll,” he begged, his voice breaking as he pressed his hand against the wound on her arm, trying to stem the bleeding. “You’ll be taken care of, I swear it.”Blood seeped through his fingers. His hands were slick, trembling. Tears slid down his face, blurring his vision, but he didn’t dare take his foot off the gas.“I can’t lose you too,” he whispered, his throat tight with grief and fear.She had caught a bullet for him.For him.The thought tore through his mind again and again like shrapnel. He was almost loosing his mind. “Arabella, stay with me, okay?” he said hoarsely, glancing down. Her lashes fluttered weakly, and she nodded just enough for him to see. That tiny movement nearly broke him.He kept checking her at every tu
Lucas was running out of time.Every move he made now felt like tightening the noose around his own neck. His mansion in the city had become porous. Too many eyes, too many mouths loyal to someone else. Don Antonio’s men were everywhere He needed to get Arabella out.Far away from the city.Back to the manor, the only place still untouched by the corruption spreading through his empire.But he couldn’t move rashly.Not when every misstep could alert Antonio.So he began slowly. Moving the household staff back first under the guise of “restructuring.” Clearing out the mansion little by little until only a handful remained. He’d learned patience the hard way and now, he used it like a weapon.For weeks, Lucas had played a dangerous game, one that could destroy him if he wasn’t careful. Since he couldn’t fight the Society outright, he decided to dismantle it piece by piece. Quietly. Systematically.Don Antonio warned him. Called him reckless. Told him he was digging his own grave.But
Arabella “I found..…” I began, my voice shook a bit as I held the note between my fingers.“I’ve been waiting for your call,” came the calm, almost expectant reply on the other end.He was? My grip tightened around the phone. "You slipped this into my clothes that day. Why?" I asked him. “I thought you might need it.”“Why?” I demanded, my heartbeat quickening.“Maybe,” he said quietly, “you were meant to find it.”I frowned. “Who are you?”“Whoever you want me to be. I can be whatever you want me to become Arabella.”The answer sent a shiver down my spine.“How did you find me?” I pressed, my voice rising slightly.“An old friend,” he said.The back-and-forth felt senseless, like a riddle that refused to give meaning. I sighed, trying to steady myself.“This is ridiculous,” I muttered under my breath. “What do you want?”He chuckled softly, unhurried. “The note said, ‘If you ever needed someone to talk to.’ Didn’t it?”A lump formed in my throat. His tone was neither mocking nor k
Arabella She had come into his life and like a storm, changed everything again.Years ago and even now. Every plan he’d made, every vow he’d sworn to the man who’d made him what he was, had been blown to pieces, shattered like glass underfoot, as though they had never mattered at all.And now, she was waiting for him at home.The same girl.It was getting late, and he knew she would be there, probably standing outside the entrance the way she always did, waiting to greet him with that soft, foolish smile.He, who had once lived for the night. One of no preferred shadows, solitude, and silence now found himself moving through his days with an unfamiliar awareness.Someone was waiting for him.Expecting him.It was a strange feeling.To be waited on.To be wanted at the end of the day.Their relationship was messy. Complicated, complex, and undeniably toxic.Yet even then… she had changed something.He used to avoid his own homes, moving from one property to the next without attachmen






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