All Chapters of Free me, Lucien Volkov : Chapter 11 - Chapter 15

Aria’s POV Ethan sat beside me quietly, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his arm through the thin fabric of my sleeve. He didn’t rush me, didn’t ask questions right away. He just reached out, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and gently pulled me against his chest as if he already knew I was barely holding myself together and that all I needed was a hug. For a second, I resisted.I wasn’t used to being comforted anymore. Not without conditions. Not without it later being used against me. But my strength gave out before my pride did. “Don’t tear up because of him,” Ethan said softly, his voice calm and soft. “He doesn’t deserve any of your tears.” I tried to respond, but my throat tightened. Instead, a shaky sniff escaped me, it was embarrassing and uncontrollable. I hated that sound. It made me feel weak, exposed. Like I was exposing my weakness in front of someone who hadn’t even known me that long. Ethan didn’t comment on it. He just tightened his arm slightly, a

Aria’s POV People say the right person comes into your life when you least expect it, when you’re not searching, not praying desperately, not bleeding loudly anymore. They say it happens quietly, almost softly, like a door opening without a sound. And maybe...just maybe that person is Ethan. I stood in front of the mirror longer than necessary, my fingers smoothing over the fabric of my dress for the fifth time. It was short, armless, and daring in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to be for years. The back dipped low, revealing my skin I once kept hidden out of habit, out of fear, out of obligation to a title I no longer carried. My hair fell in loose curls around my shoulders, soft and intentional. My reflection stared back at me, confidently, nervously, and glowing all at once. "Sexy." The word felt new on my tongue. After two years, I could finally dress the way I wanted. Not as someone’s wife. Not as someone’s girlfriend. Not as an extension of another person’s expectatio

Lucien’s POV I stopped going to the office because of my leg. The doctors said it was healing, but not healed. They said I needed rest, patience, supervision, his words sounded simple until I was the one stuck between four walls, watching my life continue without him. I hadn’t stepped into my office in weeks, hadn’t felt the weight of the building or the familiar chill of the elevator. But work didn’t stop. Meetings came to me. Files were brought home. Documents waited on my bedside table every morning for my signature. I attended virtual meetings with a straight face, camera angled carefully so no one could see how pale I looked, how pain sometimes made my jaw clench so hard that it ached. I spilled out numbers, deadlines, profits and everything except the one thing rotting inside my chest. It has been a month. A whole month of being like this. A month of living back in my childhood home, surrounded by walls that knew a version of me I didn’t even recognize anymore. A month o