Chapter 2

Lucy POV

He moved on so fast.

Of course he did. Five years have passed. Did I really think he’d wait for me? Of course he would start a new life, mark another woman, someone he always loved and treated right. Maybe to him I was only ever someone convenient, someone who used to be there when he wanted her and nothing more.

So why does the thought make it hard for me to breathe?

I know why. I buried feelings for him a long time ago, feelings I never said out loud to anyone, not even to myself most days. I told myself over and over that what I felt for him was nothing, just the leftover attachment of two kids who grew up under the same roof.

I told myself that so many times I almost believed it. Sitting here now, close enough to smell his scent on his skin, I understand those feelings were only ever sleeping. They never left. They were just waiting for him to walk back into a room and wake them up.

Just then, he raises a hand, and the man on the phone falls silent instantly, ending the call without another word.

He looked around the room once, just a flick of his eyes, cold and empty, and they understood. They all left, their footsteps hurrying toward the door, quick and obedient, like no one wants to be the last one out.

In seconds it’s just the two of us. The bass from the main floor throbs low and muffled through the walls, but something darker pulses underneath it, his dominance, power, and coldness.

And mostly, his scent suffocates me.

I can’t stop staring at him. My wolf paces low and restless in my chest, unsettled by how close he is, how familiar and how strange at the same time.

He looks older than the boy I remember. His jaw is tighter now, shadowed with stubble, his shoulders broader and more masculine, his whole body carrying a stillness that wasn’t there five years ago.

Years ago, he was handsome in a soft, boyish way. Now he’s something else entirely, hot and dangerous. Something that makes my pulse stumble even through the fear clawing up my throat.

I am so nervous I can barely hold still as my breath comes shallow.

If he recognizes me under this mask, what do I even say to him? Long time no see? How have you been? The questions sound absurd even inside my own head.

Or perhaps he is probably not even angry anymore. Five years is a long time to hold onto anger for someone who ran without looking back. He has a wife now, a Luna waiting on the other end of a phone call he didn’t even bother to finish.

Just then, his cold voice came again.

“Stand up and kneel,” he instructs.

His voice has no warmth in it at all. I rise on legs that don’t feel like mine, shaking, unsteady in Judith’s heels, and lower myself in front of him, settling closely between his spread legs as he gestures.

“It seems you are new here. If you can’t dance, there’s one other way to please a customer.” His cold words send shivers running down my spine as he grips my chin, forcing me to look up at his face, his grip hard and painful.

“Don’t waste my time here.” He adds. Then he releases me just as quickly and leans back against the sofa, one arm stretched along the top of it, watching me with eyes that give away absolutely nothing. No softness. Just cold, patient expectation.

I freeze, my whole body locking up. I don’t understand exactly what he’s asking of me. My mind scrambles for a way out but finds none.

On the other hand, it seems he didn’t recognize me. He truly, actually doesn’t know it’s me kneeling in front of him in a mask and a costume that isn’t mine.

When I don’t move, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a thick stack of dollars, dropping it onto the table between us with a small, careless sound.

“Make me feel good and all these will be yours,” he says. “Or I’ll make sure you don’t leave this room alive.”

The words hit me like ice water down my spine.

My breath catches. He hasn’t changed. Underneath the years and the title and the new authority clinging to him, he still carries the same coldness his father once had, the same readiness to threaten first and never bother explaining why.

I stare at the money and think of Eric in that hospital bed, the tubes taped along his arm, the doctor’s words echoing in my head: “We have little time to save him. You need to pay up as soon as possible so we can commence treatment.”

I tell myself to be quick. Serve him, take the money, leave before he ever learns who I am. I tell myself it’s just a job, just a body, just minutes I’ll never have to think about again.

I have told myself worse lies to survive worse nights so I would survive this too.

My hands move toward him, trembling so hard I can barely control them.

I’ve never done anything like this before. I have no idea what it should feel like, how it should go, or what he expects beyond the obvious.

My fingers fumble with his belt, then the zipper of his pants. The sound of the zipper seems deafening in the quiet room as my heart starts hammering, I reach inside his trouser, awkwardly touching the hard, heavy length of him through the thin fabric of his underwear.

He’s huge already, thicker and longer than I ever imagined. His c*ck is already straining against his underwear, his groin veins shooting out my hesitant fingertips.

The realization makes my face burn with shame, want and something else I don’t want to name.

Just as I try to pull his underwear down to take him into my mouth for a blow job, his fingers close around my wrist before I get any further, stopping me cold.

His grip isn’t gentle, it’s hard.

Immediately, the room goes silent except for my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, rapid and loud enough that I’m almost certain he can hear it too.

I don’t dare look up right away, my thoughts are messy now.

What did I do wrong?

Just then, I look up slowly as his cold eyes are narrowed on me, studying my face.

“You left me back then just to live this pathetic life? Little stepsister?” He said.