The Danger in Her Yes

Lucian’s POV

Her voice was quiet, but steady.

“Yes.”

The single word filled the space between us like a hammer striking the final nail.

Relief hit me first. I didn’t let it show—not fully—but it was there. Tightening in my chest before I buried it under the steel mask I’d worn for years.

For a split second, her lips trembled, like she might take it back. But she didn’t. She stood her ground, fists clenched at her sides, eyes burning with defiance even while fear flickered in them.

Good. She’d agreed.

“Good,” I said, my voice brief, controlled. I set my glass down on the desk and leaned back in my chair, not breaking eye contact. “You’ll move into my estate tomorrow. My driver will pick you up in the morning. Don’t be late.”

Shock widened her eyes. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes.” My tone left no room for debate. “The sooner the better.”

Her throat worked, but no sound came out. She was fighting to keep herself together—I could see it in the way her chest rose and fell too hard, the way her jaw tightened as if she was swallowing every protest, every last vestige of pride.

She hated me for this. I could feel it in the air between us.

I knew that she didn't expect the contract . She thought she could walk away, that I’d just agree to be paying her bills when I have no guarantee that I am indeed the father of her unborn child.

But my head maid, Martha, had been complaining for months about how difficult it was to manage the estate alone. The place was too big for one person. I needed someone I could trust inside those walls.

So I gave her the deal. Work as my maid. Care for the child until he/she turned five. After that, she’d disappear.

It was simple. Clean. Practical.

And yet, it wasn’t.

I could easily hire a nanny after confirming the child was mine through a DNA test. God knows I had the money for it. But something in me didn’t want that. I wanted her close.

Why?

That was the question I couldn’t answer, no matter how many times I asked myself.

Was it because of that night? The way she’d looked at me, like she wasn’t just another woman who wanted the billionaire lifestyle but actually saw the man under it?

No. I couldn’t afford to think like that.

Any woman I’d been with was just for pleasure. No strings. No expectations. No complications. Amara was supposed to be no different.

Her staying in my house was going to upset Isabella, but why should I care? Isabella had always known where she stood in my life. Temporary. Replaceable.

I caught the way her eyes looked toward the door Damian had walked out of earlier, like she still felt the ghost of his presence. My fists clenched behind my back. That old ache of resentment stirred in my gut.

Damian.

My cousin. My rival. The man who had been circling my company like a vulture from the moment my father died.

He wanted it all. The company I’d bled for. The legacy I carried on my shoulders while he played the charming snake in the shadows.

And… she had fire, but she was vulnerable. Damian had seen it the second he laid eyes on her. That smirk of his wasn’t curiosity alone—it was possession. He’d use her if it meant getting to me. That was who Damian was.

Not this time.

I’d made mistakes before, letting people too close, letting them become weaknesses. I wasn’t repeating that mistake.

I handed her a pen and a notepad. “Write your number. My driver will call you tomorrow.”

She took it without saying a word, scribbling quickly before sliding it back to me.

Amara.

That was the name written above the number. I’d never met anyone with that name before.

It sounded… different. But I pushed the thought aside. I wasn’t here to remember names.

So I let Amara leave without another word.

When the door finally clicked shut behind her, I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding since Damian showed up.

My counsin had a way of dragging my demons out into the open. The look in his eyes when he saw her—mocking, hungry—burned into my mind. Damian thrived on temptation. He never resisted an opening.

And Amara had just painted a target on her back by saying yes to me.

I walked to the window, staring at the city sprawled out in lights beneath the glass. My reflection stared back—sharp suit, sharper eyes, a man built out of survival and ambition.

But behind the mask, I still saw her.

Her trembling lips. The stubborn tilt of her chin. The way she’d snapped at Damian, even when her voice shook.

Fire.

She didn’t belong here. Not in my world of wolves and daggers hidden behind smiles. But she had fire. Enough fire to either keep her standing—or burn her alive.

I didn’t know which it would be.

What I did know was that tomorrow she’d step into my estate. Into my life. Into the mess of enemies and allies I’d worked years to control.

And whether she liked it or not, I was the only shield she had.

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, dragging a hand down my face.

I’d been on the internet enough times for scandals. Women, parties, the kind of reckless headlines that kept tabloids in business. Damian had been using them against me for years, calling me unfit to lead, painting me as a careless playboy.

But what Damian didn’t understand was that my mother saw me for what I was: a man determined enough, ruthless enough, to keep my father’s empire alive. She ignored his whispers because she trusted me.

Still, all it would take was one scandal too big to ignore.

And Amara…

If he found out she was pregnant, that she was working as my maid under my roof, it wouldn’t just be a scandal. It would be a weapon. He’d leak it to the press in seconds, spin it until I looked like the reckless billionaire who knocked up a maid and trapped her in his house.

My reputation would sink.

And when it did, my mother would have no choice but to hand the company to him.

Over my dead body.

I turned back to the window, jaw tightening. I could already see the headlines if Damian made a move. I could see the vultures circling.

I couldn’t let him find out about Amara’s pregnancy. Not now. Not ever.

Which meant I had to think fast.

Because if Damian even suspected the truth, it wouldn’t just destroy me.

It would destroy her too.