LOGINCHAPTER THREE
LAUREN’S POV I woke up confused. For a second, I thought I was late for work. Then I looked up at the ceiling and froze. This was not my apartment. This room alone was bigger than that whole tiny place I had nearly died paying rent for. I sat up slowly. “Jesus.” The bed was soft. The sheets smelled clean. Everything looked too expensive for me to even breathe near. I pressed my hand to my chest. “This is real. This is actually real.” Then I heard voices. I got out of bed, smoothed down the oversized sleep shirt I had slept in, and stepped out of the room carefully. The voices got clearer as I walked down the hall. “…I’m only saying the girl looked nervous yesterday,” a woman said. “She had every reason to be,” Mr. Vale replied. Even his voice sounded expensive. Like he had never raised it a day in his life because the world simply moved when he spoke. “She’s pretty,” the woman said. There was a pause. Then he said, in that same even tone, “That is hardly the point, Katherine.” My steps stopped on their own. They were talking about me. I moved closer, then entered the living room and saw them in the dining room. The table was already set. Mr. Vale stood by one side of it in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled just enough to make me lose concentration. His glasses sat perfectly on his face, and his hair was slicked back like he had been born knowing how to ruin somebody’s peace. Beside him was a woman in her forties, elegant and warm-looking. And Thelma was there too, leaning on a chair with her phone in her hand. Mr. Vale was the first to notice me. Of course he was. His eyes lifted and landed on me, and for one stupid second, I forgot how to breathe. “Good morning, Rain.” Thelma turned sharply. “You’re awake!” The woman looked over too, her whole face softening immediately. “Oh, sweetheart.” Before I could even respond, she walked over and pulled me into a hug. I stiffened in surprise. “You are so pretty,” she said as she pulled back to look at me. “Lucien, she’s adorable.” I swallowed and glanced at him. He looked completely unbothered, one hand in his pocket. “Rain, this is my sister, Katherine.” Katherine smiled. “Welcome, darling.” “Thank you,” I said quietly. Thelma hurried over and linked her arm through mine. “Come sit. You look like you saw heaven and came back.” “I think I did,” I muttered. Katherine laughed. Mr. Vale pulled out a chair. “Sit.” Simple word mixed with a calm voice. Still, I obeyed like it was a command wrapped in silk. I sat down and tried not to look at him too much. I failed immediately. It was the glasses first. Then the mouth. Then the way he moved around the table, casual and neat, like every little thing about him had been arranged by a very generous God. Katherine noticed me staring and smiled to herself like she knew something I hoped she did not. “So,” she said, “how did you sleep?” “Very well,” I replied. “Too well, actually. I was scared I’d wake up and find out this was a prank.” Thelma burst out laughing. “No prank. You’re stuck with us.” Katherine sat down. “Good. We like her already.” I looked at Mr. Vale again before I could stop myself. He was listening to us, quietly and composed. But there was something gentle in his eyes when they settled on me. That made it worse. Breakfast started, Katherine said a small prayer and I tried to focus on the food instead of the man at the head of the table. Then he said, “After this, we need to go shopping.” I looked up. “Shopping?” “Yes. You need a wardrobe change.” Katherine smiled. “That means he’s in a good mood.” “I am always in a good mood,” he said. A few hours later, we were out. Just me, Thelma, and Mr. Vale. The whole thing still felt unreal. The way people looked at him when he walked in. He did not even have to do anything. He just existed and the room adjusted itself. Thelma was the happiest of all of us. The moment we entered one of the stores, she gasped dramatically. “Oh my God.” Mr. Vale barely looked at her. “No.” “Uncle Lucien—” “No.” “I didn’t even say anything yet.” “You were going to ask for something ridiculous.” She clutched her chest. “You wound me.” He looked bored. “Survive.” I laughed again. Thelma rolled her eyes and then suddenly gasped again. “The doll section!” Before I could even blink, she grabbed her bag tighter. “I’m going there. I’m finally getting that doll.” Mr. Vale looked at her. “Thelma.” She was already backing away. “I’ll be quick!” And just like that, she was gone. Leaving me alone with him. My throat went dry. Mr. Vale looked down at me. “You look frightened.” “I’m not frightened.” He gestured around. “Pick what you want.” “I don’t need much.” “That was not the instruction.” I looked away. “I’m not used to this.” His voice softened just slightly. “I know.” He stepped closer, not too close, but enough for me to catch that scent again. That deep, clean cologne that made my thoughts go crooked. “Rain,” he said, “you do not have to apologize for receiving.” I looked up at him. His eyes held mine for a second too long. Then he added, “Choose.” I swallowed. “Anything?” “Anything reasonable.” I smiled a little. “So not the whole store?” His mouth shifted. Barely a smile, "Not today.” I turned toward the shelf so he would not see my face. I was reaching for something when he moved behind me. My body went still. He leaned in slightly, reaching above my head for something on the top shelf, and his chest brushed lightly against my back. It was probably nothing. It felt like everything. My breath shortened. He did not seem flustered at all. Of course he didn’t. He pulled down two different designs of water jugs and stepped back beside me. “What do you think?” I turned and found him holding both options like he actually cared what I had to say. “You’re asking me?” “Yes.” “But you probably already know which one is better.” “I still asked you.” I looked between the two items. “This one.” “Why?” “It looks better.” He nodded once. “Then I’ll take it.” His smile was beautiful and dangerous. My heart thumped so hard I got annoyed. What was wrong with me? Why was my body reacting like this over a man being polite? No. I needed to stop that. By the time we got home, I was exhausted from pretending I was normal. After washing up, I changed and met Thelma at the stairs. We headed down together for dinner. We reached the dining room. Rhode had already set the table beautifully, and for a second I thought maybe Mr. Vale would not be joining us. Then I heard footsteps. I turned. And nearly forgot every prayer I had ever learned. He walked in wearing a dark t-shirt and black pants, with golden cuffs at his wrist and a cross necklace resting against his chest. I looked away so fast my neck hurt, swallowing. Mr. Vale sat down like nothing about him was criminal. “Good evening,” he said. “Evening,” Thelma replied. I cleared my throat. “Good evening.” He looked at me. “You’re settling in well?” “Yes.” “Good.” That was all. So why did it feel like a full conversation? We began arranging our plates when he said, “We should pray before we eat.” Thelma nodded at once. He looked at her. “Hold Rain’s hand.” Thelma reached for me immediately, cheerful and unsuspecting. Then he took Thelma’s other hand. And with his free hand, he held mine. I nearly stopped breathing. His hand was warm, firm, clean, and steady. They were veiny and so huge. We all bowed our heads. Thelma started softly, and then Mr. Vale’s voice joined in, low and smooth and impossible. I did not pray. I could not. I just sat there with my eyes open, staring at him. At the glasses. At the line of his mouth. At the cross necklace resting against his chest. At the hand holding mine like it had every right to. Then, under the table, his leg brushed mine softly. Still, my breath sharpened so suddenly I was scared someone would hear it. I stayed very still. Very, very still. And in my head, the only prayer I managed was: Lord, have mercy.CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT — The Predator’s TeaThe summons came via a hand-delivered note on silver-edged stationery. It wasn't a request; it was an order. Vivienne Vale wanted tea in the sunroom at four o'clock.I checked the mirror one last time. My collar was turned up, hiding the dark marks Lucien had left on me that morning. My heart was still racing from the encounter in his office, but I had to play the part of the grateful ward.When I entered the sunroom, Vivienne was already there, looking like a queen on a throne of wicker and silk. She didn't look up from her porcelain cup as I sat down across from her."You're punctual," she said, her voice like ice clinking in a glass. "At least the orphanage taught you that much.""I try to be respectful of your time, Mrs. Vale," I replied, keeping my voice level.She finally looked at me, her eyes scanning me with clinical precision. "Lucien tells me you’ve finalized your enrollment. York School of Fine Arts. A lofty goal for a girl who, un
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN — The Mark of Possession I woke up in the center of the massive bed, the silk sheets cool against my skin, though my body felt like it was still on fire. Every muscle ached, a heavy reminder of the hours I’d spent under Lucien. The room smelled of him: expensive cedar, aged whiskey, and the lingering scent of our shared heat. I rolled over, reaching for a space that was already empty. Instead of Lucien, I found a heavy vellum note resting on his pillow. > My office. 9 AM. Don't cover the marks. I'll send you the address of my branch here.> My heart did a slow, heavy thud against my ribs. I looked at the clock. 8:40 AM. I stood up, my legs trembling slightly as I walked toward the mirror. My reflection was a mess of tangled hair and bruised skin. Dark, floral-shaped marks bloomed across my collarbone and the curve of my neck—vivid evidence of how Lucien had claimed me. *Don’t cover them,* he’d said. I looked at the marks, then at the door. I was his ward. I
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX — VIVIENNE’S WARNING RAIN’S POV The voices drifted down the long corridor like poison wrapped in silk. I had only meant to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen that morning, still in my nightdress. Instead, I froze near the back staircase, hidden behind the heavy velvet drapes, as Vivienne’s voice cut through the night. “…disgraceful. She is your ward, Lucien. A charity case from the gutter. If you think the rest of us are blind to the way you look at that girl, and threat like she is the air you breathe when she is just your daughter then, you are delusional. Stop obsessing over that thing, she is just a girl you helped from the orphanage. End it. Before I am forced to end it for you.” There was a pause. I couldn’t hear Lucien’s reply, but the low, dangerous timbre of his voice made my stomach twist. Vivienne laughed bitterly. “Protect her? You’re ruining her. And when this explodes—and it will—you will drag the entire Vale name through the mud. For h
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE — HIS FAVORITE WEAKNESSRAIN’S POVBreakfast had been torture, but the rest of the day was turning into something far more dangerous.The Vale family estate felt like a gilded cage wrapped in silence and watchful eyes. Every hallway, every antique mirror, every shadowed corner seemed to wait for one of us to slip. Lucien made it impossible to pretend we were nothing. At breakfast he had defended me with that glacial tone that brooked no argument, poured my water with those long, elegant fingers, and adjusted my chair so the morning sun wouldn’t glare in my eyes. To the others he was ice. To me, every glance was molten.I told myself I would avoid him after the library. I failed before lunch.Now, hours later, the house was quiet. Vivienne had retired to her private sitting room with Evelyn. Sophia was somewhere sharpening her claws. Thelma had gone riding, or so the staff said. I slipped into the conservatory on the east wing, drawn by the late afternoon light filt
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR — TEN DAYS UNDER HIS ROOFRAIN'S POV The launch party ended in a haze of champagne and forced smiles, but the real storm began the moment we stepped into the cars.I thought Lucien would take me straight back to the penthouse — back to the place where our secret still felt somewhat contained. Instead, as the driver pulled away from the glittering estate, Lucien’s voice cut through the silence like cool steel.“We’re staying at the family house for the next ten days. I have business in the area that requires my presence.”My stomach dropped so fast I nearly gasped. Ten days. Ten whole days under the same roof as Vivienne, Evelyn, Sophia, Thelma, and the rest of the cold-blooded Vale family. Ten days of pretending I didn’t know exactly how Lucien’s fingers felt between my thighs, how his voice sounded when he groaned my name like he was losing his mind.I glanced at him. He sat beside me in the back seat, one leg crossed over the other, looking every inch the untouc
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE — SOPHIA’S LITTLE RECORDINGRAIN’S POV The moment Sophia hit play, my entire body turned to ice.It was my voice.Soft, broken, and unmistakable. The breathy little whimpers I’d tried so hard to keep quiet upstairs. Then came Lucien’s voice groaning like a curse and a prayer at the same time. Even through the phone’s tiny speaker, the sounds felt intimate. My stomach dropped so violently I thought I might be sick right there in front of everyone.Before I could spiral into full panic, Marcus moved like lightning. He snatched the phone from Sophia’s hand, his expression shifting from lazy amusement to something sharp in a heartbeat.“Turn that off,” he said, voice low and lethal. “Right now. Before you make Lucien your enemy for life.”Sophia only smiled like a cat who had finally caught the canary. She clearly thought she had recorded Lucien and Evelyn in some filthy moment upstairs. She had no idea it was me. Not yet.Thelma recovered faster than any of us. She







