Chapter Three

Lucien’s POV

I watched her run upstairs.

The sound of her steps faded quickly, but the tension she left behind stayed in the room.

My mother exhaled slowly.

“Lucien, why did you have to do that like that?”

I didn’t answer.

She turned toward me. “She just got back. It’s too soon.”

I folded my napkin neatly beside my plate before responding.

“I’ve waited long enough.”

My father leaned back in his chair, watching me the way he always did when he was deciding whether to argue or not.

Seraphina shook her head. “I know you have,” she said. “But you could have waited a little longer. Ava is only twenty two.”

I looked at her, then responded, “That means she’s old enough.”

She pressed her lips together, clearly unhappy with that answer.

Across the table, my father sighed.

“And how exactly do you plan to get her to agree?” he asked. “You saw how she ran upstairs.”

I leaned back in my chair.

“She’ll be fine.”

Seraphina frowned. “Lucien.”

“She’s overwhelmed,” I continued, cutting her off without raising my voice. “That’s expected.”

"Expected,” My father repeated.

I met his gaze evenly. “She was always going to react like this.”

“Lucien,” she said, “you can’t decide her life for her.”

I held her gaze for a moment before answering.

“I’m not deciding it for her.”

Both of them looked unconvinced.

Then I added, calmly, “She is already mine.”

My mother parted her mouth in disbelief, which I didn't understand because this was no news to them.

“She just doesn’t know it yet,” I finished.

The words didn’t feel dramatic to me, they felt factual. I had waited longer than anyone realized. I watched her grow, protected her from a distance, made sure nothing and no one claimed her before I did.

I pushed my chair back and stood.

“Where are you going?” my mother asked.

“Upstairs.”

She looked alarmed. “Lucien, don’t push her tonight.”

I paused at the staircase.

“I’m not pushing,” I said. “I’m reminding her.”

I walked out before either of them could stop me.

The door to her room was slightly open when I got there.

I didn’t knock. I pushed it open and stepped inside.

She was standing by the window, looking out, deeply in thoughts.

She didn’t turn immediately, but she spoke, "You’re supposed to knock.”

Her voice sounded calm, but I could hear the tension underneath it.

“I didn’t used to knock,” I replied.

She turned then.

“That was when I was still a child.”

I should have answered her.

I should have said something immediate but I couldn't because seeing her like this, alone, relaxed and unaware of how closely I was looking, undid something I had kept buried for years.

She was ethereal in a way that made you look twice without meaning to.

Her face had matured. She had a clear, flawless skin. Her full lips were pressed in irritation.

And her body…

My gaze dropped before I could stop it.

She had a small waist, and a natural curve to her shape that the gown she wore didn’t hide. She had grown fully into a woman.

I dragged my eyes back to her face before I lost control completely.

“What was that downstairs?” she asked.

There it was, the anger and confusion.

I walked closer.

She didn’t move, but I could see the way her shoulders tensed as the distance between us closed.

“I meant what I said,” I told her.

She let out a short laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

Her eyes searched my face like she was trying to find the joke hidden somewhere.

“You’re talking about marriage like it’s a business arrangement,” she said. “Like you get to decide it on your own.”

I stopped a step away from her.

“I’ve already decided.”

Her expression hardened immediately. “You don’t get to decide my life for me.”

“I’m not deciding it for you,” I said calmly.

“Then what do you call what you did downstairs?” she shot back. “You announced it like it was already happening.”

“It is.”

She stared at me like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You’re insane,” she muttered.

I didn’t react.

She took a breath, trying to calm herself.

“You’re my brother, Lucien.”

“No.”

The word came easily, without hesitation.

“I never acknowledged you as my sister. I never called you that."

She laughed, shaking her head.

“Is that why you were so distant too?” she asked. “Why you barely spoke to me growing up?”

I looked away for a second.

Her voice rose. “Is that why you didn’t even care when I left?” she went on. “Why you didn’t call once?”

She paused, then corrected herself.

“Actually… not when I left. When you told our parents to send me away.”

I just kept staring, trying hard to focus on what she was saying.

“You think I didn’t know?” she said. “You think I didn’t realize it was you?”

I spoke then, calmly. “They’re my parents.”

She frowned, confused by the correction.

“If anything,” I continued, “they’ll be your parents-in-law.”

She stared at me, stunned.

I stepped closer again, slow enough that she could step back if she wanted to but she didn’t.

“You’re wrong about the rest,” I added.

“About what?” she asked.

“I cared when you left.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t act like it.”

“I couldn’t afford to.”

Her brows pulled together.

“Sending you away was the only way to stay in control,” I said.

“Control of what?” she asked.

“Of myself.”

"Lucien, this is madness." She gasped, shaking her head.

“I waited, Ava. I waited for you to grow up.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

“I didn’t touch you,” I continued. “I didn’t cross boundaries. I didn’t let myself look at you the way I do now.”

Her chest heaved.

“You think this is normal?” she asked.

“No,” I said honestly.

“Then why-"

“Because you were always mine.” I answered.

She shook her head immediately. “No, don’t say that.”

“You were,” I repeated. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

“That’s not love,” she said, her voice was shaking. “That’s obsession.”

I held her gaze. “Yes.”

She went quiet, opening her mouth and closing it.

“I don’t deny that,” I continued. “But obsession doesn’t mean I didn’t wait for my feelings to be appropriate.”

She stared at me like she didn’t know whether to be angry or afraid.

“You’re still free to say no,” I said.

Her lips parted again.

“But you won’t,” I added.

“Stop saying that like you know me,” she snapped.

“I do know you.”

“You don’t,” she argued. “You don’t know anything about me anymore.”

I watched her for a moment, then said, “I know enough."

Her chest rose and fell faster now.

I could feel the pull between us tightening, not just from me, but from her confusion, her anger, her inability to step away, and that was the moment my control almost slipped again.

Standing this close, close enough to see the faint flush on her skin and way her lips parted when she breathed...

My hand twitched at my side.

Then came the instinct to reach for her, to kiss her senseless and hold her still long enough to make her listen without running, but I stopped myself.

Restraint had carried me this far, I wouldn’t break it now.

“You can take time,” I said finally.

She looked wary.

“I’ve already waited years,” I continued. “I can wait a little longer.”

I stepped back, giving her space for the first time since entering the room. But before I turned to leave, I added one last thing.

“You can deny it all you want, Ava.”

She looked at me, guarded.

“But you’ve always belonged to me, and you always will.”

I left the room before she could answer.