Chapter 9

**Lucian's POV**

 I watched as Isabella yanked her hands off from mine and Alexander's, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. "I'm out of here," she said, her voice firm as she headed straight outside of the coffee shop.

 Alexander's face twisted with rage and disappointment. "Fine, walk away," he spat, his eyes following Isabella out the door. He turned to me, his gaze cold and menacing. "You think you've won, don't you?" he sneered.

 I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Won what, exactly?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm.

 But Alexander didn't respond. Instead, he turned and headed to the bar, grabbing a bottle of alcohol on his way. I watched him go, a mixture of amusement and disdain on my face.

 The coffee shop patrons were still buzzing with excitement, their cameras flashing as they tried to get a shot of the drama that had just unfolded. But I didn't care. I was already heading outside, my eyes scanning the crowd for Isabella.

 I spotted her standing by the car, her eyes fixed on me as I approached. She looked frustrated, her face still flushed with anger. But as I reached her, she didn't say a word. She just got into the car, her movements swift and decisive.

 I followed suit, getting into the passenger seat as she started the engine. The drive was silent, the only sound the hum of the engine and the soft rustle of the wind.

 As we drove, I couldn't help but steal glances at Isabella. She was beautiful, her profile sharp and defined as she focused on the road. But there was a tension in her body, a tightness that suggested she was holding something back.

 It wasn't until we got home that she finally spoke. "Lucian," she said, her voice low and husky. "I need answers."

 I turned to her, my eyes meeting hers. "In this case, I'm afraid the truth will put you in danger instead of setting you free" I calmly said, my voice neutral. I felt some type of way, I didn't want her to get more entangled in my mess. Why? did I care that much about her? 

 But Isabella just shook her head. She looked at me as if she had made the biggest regret in her life, her eyes filled with sadness and frustration. And then, without a word, she turned and headed upstairs.

 I followed her, my feet heavy on the stairs. As I reached the top, I called out to her. "Isabella, wait."

 She turned, her eyes flashing with a blend of anger and curiosity. "What?" she asked, her voice short.

 I took a deep breath, my eyes locked on hers. "I had a plastic surgery," I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth.

 Isabella's face froze, her eyes wide with shock. She looked like she had been punched in the gut, her mouth hanging open in surprise.

 "Why?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

 I shrugged, my eyes never leaving hers. "I don't know," I said, my voice honest. "I just did."

 Isabella's eyes narrowed, her gaze searching mine. "No, Lucian," she said, her voice firm. "There's more to it than that. What happened?"

 I sighed, my eyes dropping to the floor. I didn't want to relive this, didn't want to go back to that place. But as I looked up at Isabella, I knew I had to.

 "My face was burned," I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth. "In a fire. I was young, and...and it was a long time ago."

 The air was thick with tension as Isabella's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, Lucian," she whispered, her voice filled with compassion.

 But I didn't want her pity. I didn't want her sympathy. I just wanted her to understand.

 "I had the surgery to fix it," I said, my voice firm. "To make myself look...normal again."

 Isabella's eyes searched mine, her gaze intense. "And did it work?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

 I shrugged, my eyes never leaving hers. "I don't know," I said, my voice honest. "I'm still trying to figure that out."

 The room was silent, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner. Isabella's eyes were locked on mine, her gaze intense and searching.

 And then, without a word, she turned and walked away.

 I watched her go, my heart heavy with emotion. I knew I had just opened a can of worms, knew that I had just set off a chain reaction of events that would change everything.

 But as I stood there, my eyes fixed on the door, I followed her into the room. I just had to. My eyes wanted to see her, my hands wanted to hold her soft palms and somehow my lips wanted to rest on hers. But there's to many closed doors on my past that I don't want her to open. 

 I got into her room and closed the doors Immediately. 

 " Your ex-fiance is the illegitimate son of my father and also my half youbger brother. He schemed with his mom and I was almost killed from the burn and that's why I had a plastic surgery. I look completely different now". I said, staring deeply at her

 . She used both hands to cover her lips as if acid was going to gush out of them. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft.

 I shrugged, my eyes never leaving hers. "Don't be," I said. "It's not your fault."

 The room was silent, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner. Isabella's eyes were locked on mine, her gaze intense and searching.

 She came closer to me and held me with those soft hands I've been aching to hold. 

 "How do I help you...how..how do we correct this Lucian. How do we get justice for yo......" 

 "shuuushh...." I said as I gently placed my finger on her lips. 

 "Let's not worry about that now..." I said and at the same time using my hands to cup her face. 

 "Lucian...I..."

 "No, no words...." I used my thumb to brush her lips. God they were so soft" 

 our lips met....slow at first, testing, tasting. Then deeper. Hungrier.

 I backed her against the reading desk, my hands sliding up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts through the fabric. She gasped into my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer like she's wanted this for a long time.

 My tongue traced the seam of her lips and she opened for me, meeting ms stroke for stroke, a soft moan vibrating between us. I tasted like red wine and something darker...something that made her knees weak.

 One of my hands cupped her jaw, tilting her head for better access, while the other slipped lower, gripping her hip, pressing her against the hard evidence of exactly how much I wanted this...wanted her.

 She arched into me, her nails scraping lightly down my neck, drawing a growl from deep on my chest.

 The kiss turned molten. Teeth nipped at lower lips. Our tongues tangled. Breaths came fast and ragged.

 I sucked gently on her bottom lip, soothing the sting with my tongue, and she whimpered, actually whimpered, her body melting against mine.

 When we finally broke apart, our foreheads rested together, we were both breathing like we’d run a marathon. We stared into each other's eyes, asking for answers, each sayi

ng "what just happened"?

 “Tell me to stop,” I rasped, “and I will.”

 Bella without saying anything fisted my shirt and pulled me back in.