Fear

Chapter Seven – Fury and Fear

Lucien’s POV

I stayed by her side, my hands carefully pressing, helping her ease the pain in her shoulders and back. She was trembling, pale, and broken, but alive. That was all that mattered.

Then her eyes slowly opened.

“Lucien…” she whispered, voice hoarse. Her gaze was weak, uncertain.

“Shh… don’t move,” I said, gripping her hand tighter. Relief mixed with rage coursed through me. “You’re safe now. Don’t try to get up too fast.”

I helped her sit up, gently guiding her onto the chair. Her legs shook, but I stayed close, ready to catch her if she fell. I fed her a few sips of water. She coughed softly, then looked up at me. Fear. Pain. Confusion.

And then the door opened.

Time froze.

He stepped in, my blood ran cold.

“Uncle Lucien! What are you doing with this… this bitch?”

The words hit the room like a hammer. So he, he’s his husband? I never knew he was the one I called with the nurse phone the other day.

My chest tightened, my fists curled. I turned slowly, my eyes meeting his.

It was him. My nephew. Alina’s husband.

He was the man who treated her like she was nothing.

Shock. Fury. Recognition. All at once.

I felt a surge of protectiveness I hadn’t known I could feel. I stepped in front of her. “Don’t you dare call her that. You… you let her suffer. She’s lying there, bleeding, scared, and you can’t even pick up your phone properly? And you have the nerve to call her that?”

He sneered, stepping closer, chest out like he could challenge me. “If I want her, I can take her. She’s worthless. Nothing but a useless woman. All she knows is staying at home, doing nothing. You made a mistake protecting her.”

My jaw tightened. My heart pounded in my chest. I could feel the anger radiating off me, dangerous, cold. “You call her worthless? After everything she’s gone through? You dare say that to me? She’s been strong… stronger than you could ever imagine. And you? You couldn’t even care enough to answer the phone. You failed her.”

He laughed bitterly, arrogance dripping from every word. “I’m her husband. I can do what I want. And I don’t need your approval, Uncle.”

My eyes burned. My hands shook with rage. But I stayed calm enough, keeping my voice steady, low, dangerous. “You’re done here. Stay out of her way. Do not speak to her like that again.”

His face twisted, and he spat back one last insult, but I didn’t even flinch. He stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

I turned immediately to her. Alina. She was crying, silent sobs shaking her small frame. Her body trembled from pain and fear. I didn’t say a word. I just moved closer, pulling her gently into my arms, letting her lean on me.

“You’re safe,” I murmured, voice low, steady, but filled with fire. “No one can hurt you anymore. Not him. Not anyone. I won’t let anyone do this to you again.”

She clung to me, trembling, tears soaking my shirt. Her sobs broke my heart. Every single cry of hers felt like a knife to my chest.

“I… I’m sorry,” she whispered through the tears, her voice barely audible. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen… I didn’t know you two were family, I didn’t mean to cause any conflict between the both of you”

I shook my head, anger and tenderness battling inside me. “Don’t apologize. This is not your fault. Look at me. You hear me? This is not your fault. I’ve got you.”

I stayed with her, holding her close, letting her cry. Letting her feel safe. My mind was a storm of emotions—rage at her husband, fear for her, a protective instinct that refused to let go.

And in that moment, I knew one thing clearly: no one would ever treat her like that again, not while I was around.