Home.This empty place, haunted and soaked in nightmares. A glistening prison for two. The moment he had stepped into his room, her scent had hit him soft, warm, maddening. For a fleeting second, it felt like peace.As if the fury he had walked in with was dissolving, leaving him suspended, frozen in space.And then, he laughed.Laughed at the absurdity of it all.What was he thinking, making her crawl into his bed?And then she had stepped in, looking like sin itself wrapped in silk,And for a heartbeat, he almost forgot.Almost forgot that this place was a prison—A cage meant for the two of them.Then she had the audacity to call it home.If those words had come from anyone else’s lips, he would’ve hurled them out the door.But it was her.And with her, he did the opposite.The opposite of what his mind demanded as he had been doing for several weeks now. Held her even closer. He hated her. Despised her.Because one man’s selfishness to keep her alive had buried his own family i
Arabella. “Lucas,” I called, taking a tentative step toward him—but I stopped.I couldn’t move any further.He didn’t look approachable. No. The man standing before me now was cold, unreadable, like a wall I couldn’t climb.His gaze… it pinned me in place. Dark, sharp, and unnervingly quiet. I was trapped under it, as if an invisible leash had wrapped around my throat, holding me there. I could only breathe when he allowed it.Then, without a word, his eyes left mine.His fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, methodical and slow, as if he had all the time in the world. Each button he undid revealed more of the man beneath—hard muscle. “Where’d you go?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I tried—God, I tried—to keep the longing out of it.But I failed.He hadn’t told me where he went or before he left. Before now he would keep me updated. Not a word. He left for days without explanation and now, suddenly, here he was—like a storm rolling in, no warning, no mercy.He didn’t
“Is that a threat, Don?” Lucas asked, his tone deceptively quiet, each syllable carrying the weight of a blade poised for the kill.A low, humorless chuckle rumbled from the older man's chest. He shifted his weight on his cane, tilting his head slightly, the sharp gleam in his eyes matching Lucas’s.“You know me well, Lucas,” the Don said smoothly. “Don Antonio Gonzales does not issue threats.”Lucas’s lips pressed into a razor-thin line, his voice cold as steel. “And Lucas Storm,” he said, stepping forward, “does not take kindly to statements like that.”The silence stretched, taut and volatile.Then, Antonio’s lips curled into a smile, though it didn’t touch his eyes. “Tense evening, isn’t it?” he remarked with a mock casualness, tapping his cane lazily. “We’re practically family, after all. Shouldn’t we be able to speak frankly?”Lucas’s stare remained unflinching. “Family,” he echoed, the word bitter on his tongue.His lips twitched, not quite a smile.“Is that so?” he murmured, h
Memories from years ago flashed violently through his mind.Ariel and Arabella, two fragile little girls, from two completely different worlds, receiving treatment at the hospital.The doctors had said Ariel’s illness was minor. Manageable. She had a good chance. She was supposed to survive.But that day…That cursed day when everything unraveled—They told him Ariel was dead.He had stood there, a boy frozen in time, staring at them in disbelief.His heart had stopped.The bond, the tether, the invisible string that had always connected him to his twin was severed in an instant.Gone.Just like that.But her heart—Her heart hadn’t stopped.It was still beating…Only, it now lived inside another girl.A girl deemed more valuable.More important than his “insignificant” sister.Arabella.They were twins, yes.But Ariel had always been the fragile one, the delicate flower he was sworn to protect.He was the strong one. The one who had to watch over her.The younger him had stood there,
Arabella Lucas was the only person who touched me.Truly touched me.The maids that dressed me each morning had cold, efficient fingers, programmed, unfeeling, their movements mechanical and detached.But Lucas… Lucas was different.Lucas was the only warmth I knew. The only skin against mine. The only human contact I was allowed.And over time, that did something to me.I grew bolder under his gaze as the days went by. On most nights I danced for him, stripped for him, at those times I felt powerful. Ironic, wasn’t it? His personal performer. His private little show. But when I danced, and his eyes devoured me with that feral hunger, it was me who controlled the room. At least, that’s what I told myself.In those nights, when the lights were low and his gaze was molten, I wasn’t a prisoner.I was a goddess, a siren pulling him under.His personal performer.His doll.Afterwards, he’d pull me onto his thighs, draping me lazily across his lap like a prized possession.He’d press a ch
Arabella I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I had actually done that! Gone completely wild. On Lucas, of all people.This man, this ruthless, cold psychopath who had shattered my life into pieces.And yet… I had danced for him, touched him, straddled him like some desperate horny fool seeking his approval.The shame was suffocating.Lucas watched me, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he could read every thought swirling in my head.“It’s okay,” he said, voice low and disturbingly soothing, like he was consoling a hysterical child.“The things you do when you’re drunk... they’re just the things you’ve always wanted to do. You just needed the right outlet.”I snapped my head up. “I did not,” I hissed, the heat of my embarrassment turning into anger.“There’s no way I wanted to throw myself at you, Lucas. Not in that way.”He leaned in closer, eyes glinting darkly, and I hated the fact that my breath hitched.“At certain moments, Bella, what your mi