“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
She was crying.Lucas could hear her muffled sobs through the thick walls as he stood on the other side of her door. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. He was so mad, he wanted to kill someone.The carnival had been crowded that night. A chaotic mess. But even amidst all that at his order Lucas had them fished out, the low-life scums who had been groping girls under the guise of carnival fun. It was a sickening game they played.When he arrived, the perpetrators were already in custody—lined up like pathetic rodents as they confessed their disgusting deeds. Lucas stood there, unimpressed. Something didn’t sit right.His features hardened as he listened. Their acts were vile, but they lacked coordination, lacked intent. It was chaos, yes, but, there was more to this.On the drive back, his jaw remained locked, his mind replaying Arabella’s trembling voice as she described what happened.“I didn’t want to scare her,” Lucas muttered, his tone sharp, “but it’s not that simp
The wind lashed against her as she stepped out of the helicopter, slicing through the thin fabric of her dress. The cold bit into her skin, making her shiver uncontrollably.And then, without a word, a familiar weight settled over her shoulders.Lucas’s jacket.It was unceremoniously dumped on her, heavy and suffocating, his scent invading her senses with the ease of a practiced conqueror. She froze mid-step, feeling his presence close behind her.“You’ll catch a cold,” he murmured, his tone gentle yet laced with quiet authority, as he reached around her, fastening the buttons with a possessive slowness. His fingers brushed her trembling frame, steady and deliberate, sealing her inside his warmth like she was a fragile thing that belonged to him.She swallowed the lump rising in her throat, her defiance crumbling inch by inch. There was no use struggling.Not after everythingResigned, she moved forward, the jacket weighing down on her like invisible chains as they entered the house, h