15: Come with me!

Lucien’s POV

Ashley flinched at the sound of my voice, her smirk slipping for half a second as she turned toward me. I didn’t wait for her to say a word. My steps were already loud against the marble, sharp and fast, cutting through the thick, choking tension between them. I reached them in seconds, eyes burning, hands clenched, blood humming with something I hadn’t let out in years.

I didn’t say anything at first.

I just walked straight to Natasha and pulled her gently by the arm, moving her behind me without a second thought. She didn’t resist. She looked up at me with wide eyes that still carried the sting of humiliation, confusion tightening the corners of her mouth. Her hands were trembling, not out of fear but restraint—like she had wanted to scream but swallowed it because she didn’t know if she was allowed.

Ashley stumbled as I stepped between them.

She wasn’t expecting the movement. Her heels twisted awkwardly and her hand flew to the side to balance herself against the wall, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn’t believe what just happened.

“How dare you lay your hands on her,” I said, my voice low, too calm for the rage pressing against my ribs.

Ashley straightened, brushing imaginary dust off her shoulder. She still had that look. That stupid look of someone who thought they still mattered.

“Why are you defending this maid?” she scoffed, her words like venom wrapped in velvet. “What is she to you, Lucien?”

She didn’t even finish the sentence.

My hand moved faster than my mind.

The sound of my palm meeting her cheek rang through the corridor. Sharp. Final.

Her head jerked sideways, red hair whipping across her face. The silence that followed was worse than the slap itself. She stood frozen for a second, one hand slowly lifting to press against her cheek. Her eyes didn’t rise to meet mine. Not this time.

I didn’t apologize.

I didn’t flinch.

“You will not speak to her that way,” I said, each word like a stone dropped in water, slow and heavy. “She is not your equal. She is not your servant. And she is definitely not your concern.”

Ashley turned toward me now, her mouth trembling, but not with regret—just pride. Just that bruised ego that couldn’t accept she’d been dismissed.

“So what is she then?” she spat. “You slap me over some… girl you picked from the dungeons?”

“Say one more word,” I warned.

She stopped.

And for the first time in years, Ashley Thorne listened.

I turned slightly and looked back at Natasha. Her eyes were still wide, her lips parted like she wasn’t sure whether to thank me or disappear. I reached for her hand—not forcefully, not as a command—but so she would know. So she would feel it. That she wasn’t invisible. That I saw her. That I had heard everything.

“Come with me!”