walls and cracks

Chapter 6: Walls and Cracks

The SUV pulled up to my building. Thirty-story luxury high-rise in the heart of the city. My penthouse took up the entire top floor.

I reached for the door handle, but Lucian was already out and opening it for me. I ignored the gesture and stepped out, my heels clicking against the pavement.

"Thank you for the ride," I said, my voice flat. Professional. Like he was just a business associate who'd given me a lift. "I'll see you Monday for our first official meeting."

I turned toward the entrance. His hand caught my elbow, gentle but firm.

"Amara."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

"I said I'm fine." I pulled away from him, but my voice cracked on the last word. Damn it.

"Let me walk you up."

"That's not necessary—"

"I'm walking you up." His tone left no room for argument.

The doorman opened the door with a professional nod. We rode the elevator in silence, the numbers climbing. Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven.

I could feel Lucian's presence beside me like a physical weight. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger now after the emotional devastation of the evening. My wolf kept pushing at me to move closer to him. To seek comfort in his strength.

I shoved her down viciously.

The elevator opened directly into my penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Modern furniture in blacks and grays. Everything clean and cold and perfect.

Everything empty.

"Nice place," Lucian said, following me inside.

"Thank you." I set my clutch on the entry table with hands that only shook slightly. "You can go now."

"No."

I turned to face him. "Excuse me?"

"I said no." He closed the distance between us, and I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "You're breaking apart, and you're trying to dismiss me like I'm some stranger who doesn't matter."

"You are a stranger."

"Liar." His voice dropped lower. "I'm your mate. And whether you want to accept that or not, I'm not leaving you alone tonight."

"I don't need—"

The words died in my throat. My chest tightened. The image of Kai's face, twisted with hatred, flashed through my mind. His voice calling Sera "mom." The feel of my hand connecting with her face. Damien's expression of satisfaction as he'd tried to humiliate me.

The first sob broke free before I could stop it.

"Amara." Lucian's arms came around me, pulling me against his chest.

I tried to push him away. Tried to hold onto the control I'd fought so hard to maintain. But his scent surrounded me—pine and smoke and something uniquely him—and my wolf was crying out for the comfort of our mate.

Another sob. Then another.

Then I shattered completely.

Three years of walls came crashing down. I cried into his chest, my hands fisting in his expensive suit jacket, my body shaking with the force of my grief. For my son who hated me. For the five years I'd wasted on a man who'd never loved me. For the bullet I'd taken and the scars that would never heal. For every moment I'd been called weak when I'd been strong enough to survive.

Lucian didn't speak. Didn't tell me it would be okay or offer empty platitudes. He just held me, one hand stroking my hair, the other pressed firmly against my back, keeping me anchored.

Time meant nothing. It could have been minutes or hours. I cried until there was nothing left, until my throat was raw and my eyes burned and my body felt hollowed out.

Finally, the sobs quieted to hiccups. Then to shaky breaths.

I became aware of where I was. Who I was pressed against. The mate bond singing between us, trying to knit us together.

I pulled back sharply, wiping at my face. My makeup was probably destroyed. I didn't care.

"I'm fine now." My voice came out hoarse. "You can leave."

Lucian's hands were still on my arms. "Amara—"

"I said I'm fine." I stepped back, forcing him to release me. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold without his warmth. "Thank you for your... assistance tonight. But I need to be alone."

"You don't need to be alone. You need—"

"What I need," I cut him off, my voice going cold and hard, "is for you to leave. Now."

His jaw clenched. Those amber eyes searched my face, seeing too much. Always seeing too much.

"You're shutting down."

"I'm establishing boundaries."

"You're running."

"Get out, Lucian." I walked to the door and opened it, my hand steady now. Professional. Distant. "I'll see you at the office on Monday. We can discuss the security protocols then."

He stared at me for a long moment. I kept my expression blank, cold. The mask I'd perfected over three years.

Finally, he moved toward the door. But he stopped in front of me, close enough that I had to look up at him.

"I'm not him," he said quietly. "I won't give up on you just because you're difficult."

"I'm not asking you to give up on me. I'm asking you to respect my boundaries."

"No. You're asking me to let you isolate yourself so you can pretend you don't need anyone." His hand came up, cupping my face. His thumb brushed my cheek, catching a tear I'd missed. "I'll go. But this isn't over."

He left.

I closed the door and locked it. Stood there in the silence of my empty penthouse, surrounded by expensive furniture and city lights and absolutely nothing that mattered.

My wolf whimpered inside me. Crying for the mate I'd just sent away. For the son who hated me. For everything I'd lost and everything I was too scared to reach for.

I ignored her and went to pour myself a drink.

I didn't sleep.

I spent the night in my office, monitoring the fallout. Because there was always fallout.

By 3 AM, the video had gone viral. Someone had recorded the entire confrontation—from Sera's fake scream to my real slap to Lucian's intervention. It was everywhere. T*****r. I*******m. TikTok. News sites.

The comments were exactly what I expected. Split down the middle.

"She's psycho. Who hits someone at a charity event?"

"Did you see the part where the other woman was clearly faking? This Amara woman just called her on it."

"That's Damien Cross's ex-wife. I heard she was abusive and he had to kick her out."

"Are we watching the same video? She's clearly the victim here. And who is that hot guy who defended her?"

"QUEEN BEHAVIOR. The way she slapped that fake b***"*

"This is assault. She should be arrested."

"The husband was about to hit her and that other guy stopped him. Maybe there's more to this story."

On and on. Thousands of comments. Millions of views. My face plastered across every platform.

By morning, my phone was exploding. Emails from companies wanting to work with me. Or wanting to distance themselves from me. Reporters requesting interviews. Pack members I hadn't spoken to in years suddenly concerned about my "well-being."

I ignored all of it and went to take a shower.

The hot water beat down on me, washing away the remnants of last night's makeup. I stood there until the water ran cold, then got out and stared at myself in the mirror.

My eyes were swollen from crying. The silver scar on my abdomen seemed to mock me, a permanent reminder of everything I'd sacrificed for people who'd thrown me away.

My phone buzzed from the bedroom. I ignored it.

It buzzed again. And again.

I wrapped myself in a towel and went to check. Probably more interview requests or hate messages.

But when I picked it up, I saw the notification from my building's front desk.

"Delivery for Ms. Cross. Should we send it up?"

I frowned. I wasn't expecting anything.

"What kind of delivery?"

"Flowers and a package, ma'am. Quite large."

I almost told them to refuse it. But curiosity won.

"Send it up."

Five minutes later, my doorbell rang.

I threw on a robe and went to answer it. The doorman stood there with a massive bouquet of red roses. Deep crimson, at least three dozen, arranged in an elegant vase. Next to it was a huge teddy bear, easily three feet tall, holding a small card.

"Where should I put these, Ms. Cross?"

"Just... there is fine." I gestured to the entry table, my brain still processing.

He set everything down and left. I stood there staring at the roses and the teddy bear like they might explode.

Who the hell sends teddy bears to grown women?

I picked up the card with careful fingers and opened it.

"You are stronger than you know. Braver than you believe. And you deserve someone who sees that. The walls you've built are impressive, but I'm patient. I can wait. - L"

Something twisted in my chest. Sharp and uncomfortable and dangerously close to hope.

For a moment—just a single, traitorous moment—I let myself smile. Small and genuine and completely unguarded. The roses were beautiful. The teddy bear was ridiculous but somehow sweet. The message was...

No.

I couldn't do this. Couldn't let him in. Couldn't give someone that kind of power over me again.

I schooled my features back into blankness, but I didn't throw the flowers away. Didn't toss the teddy bear. I just left them there on the table and went to get dressed for work.

Across the street, in a luxury sedan with tinted windows, Lucian Volkov watched the feed from the security camera he'd had his people install in the building's hallway. He'd seen her open the door. Seen her face when she'd read the card.

And he'd seen that smile.

Small. Fleeting. But real.

His wolf rumbled in satisfaction. She'd smiled. For him.

"She's fighting it," his second-in-command, Dimitri, said from the driver's seat. "You sure you want to pursue this? She's clearly damaged goods."

Lucian's head snapped toward him, eyes flashing dangerously. "Say that again and I'll rip your tongue out."

Dimitri raised his hands in surrender. "Just saying, boss. She's complicated."

"She's mine." Lucian's eyes returned to the screen, watching as Amara closed her door. "And I protect what's mine. Even from herself."

I arrived at Volkov Enterprises at exactly 9 AM.

The building was impressive—sixty stories of glass and steel in the financial district. Lucian's empire sprawled across multiple floors. I'd been assigned to the executive level on the fifty-eighth floor.

The receptionist's eyes widened when she saw me. Right. The viral video. I'd forgotten for half a second that I was now internet famous for all the wrong reasons.

"Ms. Cross," she stammered. "Mr. Volkov is expecting you. Conference Room A."

I nodded and headed down the hallway. My heels clicked against marble floors. Employees stopped and stared as I passed. Some admiring. Some judgmental. All curious.

I ignored them all.

Conference Room A had glass walls and a view of the entire city. And sitting at the massive table, reviewing documents on a tablet, was Lucian.

He looked up when I entered. His expression was unreadable, professional. Like last night hadn't happened. Like he hadn't held me while I fell apart.

"Ms. Cross. Right on time." He gestured to the chair next to him. Not across the table. Next to him. Close enough that our shoulders would almost touch.

"Is this where you want me?" I asked, eyeing the proximity.

"Yes. I'll need you close at all times to monitor the system integration. Check progress. Answer questions." His eyes met mine, and there was heat there despite the professional tone. "Problem?"

Yes. The problem was that sitting that close to him would make the mate bond impossible to ignore. My wolf was already pushing forward, wanting to be near him.

But I wasn't going to show weakness. Not now.

"No problem." I sat down and pulled out my laptop, very aware of the inches between us.

He smelled like pine and smoke and something that made my wolf purr. I shoved her down and opened my files.

"So," Lucian said, his voice casual, "how are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine."

"Sleep well?"

"Fine."

"The flowers arrived okay?"

"They're fine."

He was quiet for a moment. Then: "That's a lot of 'fine.'"

"I'm a woman of limited vocabulary today."

"Or a woman who's avoiding a conversation."

I turned to look at him, keeping my expression blank. "We're here to work, Mr. Volkov. Not discuss my personal life."

"Lucian. And your personal life became relevant the moment I realized you're my mate."

"That's not—"

The door opened and Dimitri walked in with coffee. Two cups. He set one in front of Lucian and one in front of me.

I blinked. "I didn't order—"

"Almond milk latte, two pumps of vanilla, extra hot," Lucian said, not looking up from his tablet. "That's still your drink, right?"

I stared at him. That was my drink. But how did he—

"I pay attention," he said, answering my unspoken question. "To everything that matters."

Dimitri's eyebrows rose. "Boss, did you just—"

"That will be all, Dimitri."

His second-in-command looked between us, then smirked and left.

I picked up the coffee cup, my fingers brushing against the warm ceramic. He'd remembered my drink. The one I'd ordered once during our first business meeting weeks ago.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"You're welcome."

We worked in silence for the next hour. Or tried to. Lucian kept trying to make conversation. I kept giving one-word answers.

"So the encryption protocol—"

"Good."

"And the firewall integration—"

"Fine."

"Amara."

"What?"

He turned in his chair to face me fully. "Are we really going to do this? Pretend last night didn't happen?"

"That's exactly what we're going to do."

"Why?"

"Because it's easier."

"Easier than what?"

"Than this." I gestured between us. "Than letting you in just so you can decide later that I'm not worth the effort."

His expression darkened. "You think I'm going to—"

I stood abruptly, needing distance. Needing to not have this conversation. "I'm going to check the server room. Make sure the initial upload—"

I moved too fast. My heel caught on the chair leg. I stumbled, already seeing the floor rushing up to meet me.

Strong arms caught me before I fell.

Lucian had moved faster than should be possible, one arm around my waist, the other supporting my back. He hauled me against his chest, steadying me.

The mate bond exploded between us.

Fire and electricity and something primal that made my wolf howl in recognition. Everywhere he touched burned with awareness. His scent overwhelmed me. His warmth seeped into my skin.

Our eyes locked.

His had shifted to amber-gold, his lycan rising to the surface. Mine must have done the same because I could feel my wolf pushing forward, desperate to get closer to her mate.

"Amara," he breathed, and his voice was rougher, deeper.

I couldn't move. Couldn't think. His face was inches from mine. His arm around my waist tightened, pulling me impossibly closer. I could feel every hard plane of his body pressed against me.

The air between us crackled with tension. Sexual and primal and overwhelming.

"Let me go," I whispered, but my hands were fisted in his suit jacket, holding him close.

"You don't want me to let go." His other hand came up, fingers threading through my hair. "You want me to—"

The door opened.

"Boss, you wanted the quarterly reports—oh shit."

Dimitri stood in the doorway, files in hand, eyes wide.

Reality crashed back. I shoved away from Lucian, smoothing down my skirt with shaking hands. My face felt hot. My wolf was snarling at the interruption.

"Leave them on the desk," Lucian said, his voice tight with barely controlled frustration. His eyes never left me.

Dimitri set down the files and practically ran out of the room.

I turned away, walking to the windows, putting as much distance as possible between us. "That was—"

"Inevitable." Lucian's footsteps approached behind me. "You can fight this all you want, Amara. But the bond doesn't lie. Your wolf wants me. You want me. I can feel it."

"What I want doesn't matter."

"It's the only thing that matters."

I turned to face him. He'd stopped a few feet away, giving me space, but his eyes were still that intense amber-gold.

"I can't do this," I said. "I can't give someone that kind of power again."

"Then don't give me power. Keep your walls. Keep your control." He stepped closer. "But don't shut me out completely. Let me prove I'm not him. Let me show you what a real mate looks like."

"And if you break me?"

"Then you can destroy me right back." His lips curved into something dangerous. "Fair trade."

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. Then again. Then it started ringing.

I grabbed it from my pocket, grateful for the interruption. Rachel's name flashed on the screen.

"What?"

"Amara, you need to see this." Her voice was tight with urgency. "It's about the video. Someone posted an extended cut with audio. The full conversation. And it's changing everything."

My stomach dropped. "Send it to me."

I hung up and pulled up my social media. The video was already trending again. But this version was longer. Clearer.

It showed Sera grabbing my hand. Showed her screaming before I'd touched her. Showed her smiling at Kai while whispering something the mic just barely picked up: "Watch this, sweetie. Your mother is going to look like a monster."

It showed Damien's smirk as he'd advanced on me. His words about taking me back if I begged. His hand rising to hit me.

And it showed Lucian's intervention. His protection. His barely controlled fury.

The comments were different now.

"Holy shit, she was set up."

"That Sera woman is EVIL. She planned the whole thing."

"The ex-husband is abusive. Look at how he was about to hit her. Thank God for that other guy."

"Everyone owes Amara Cross an apology. She's the victim here."

I looked up at Lucian. "Did you do this?"

"I ensured the full truth came out. Yes." He didn't look apologetic. "You're not going to be painted as the villain when you were defending yourself."

Something in my chest cracked. Just a little. Just enough to be dangerous.

He'd protected me. Even when I'd pushed him away.

"Why?" The word came out smaller than I meant it.

"Because you're mine." He said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And I protect what's mine."

My phone rang again. Unknown number. Against my better judgment, I answered.

"Ms. Cross?" An unfamiliar male voice. "This is James Harrington. CEO of Harrington Media Group. I saw the video. All of it. And I'd like to discuss a very lucrative partnership. Would you be available for dinner tonight?"

I met Lucian's eyes as I answered. "I'll have my assistant set something up."

I hung up and immediately three more calls came through. Two from CEOs. One from a talent agent wanting to represent me.

The viral video hadn't destroyed me.

It had made me more valuable.

And Lucian had ensured that happened.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

He moved closer, crowding into my space again. "Have dinner with me instead."

"I just agreed to meet with—"

"Cancel it. Have dinner with me. Let me take you somewhere. Show you that I'm serious about this."

"Lucian—"

"One dinner, Amara. If you hate it, I'll back off. But give me one real chance to prove I'm not going to hurt you."

My wolf was howling yes. My brain was screaming no. My heart...

My traitorous heart wanted to say yes.

"Fine," I heard myself say. "One dinner. But this doesn't change anything between us."

His smile was pure victory. "We'll see about that."