CHAPTER THREE: THE THINGS I SHOULDN’T WANT
1788 Words
Lucien POV
“You watched her again, didn’t you?”
Dante’s voice cut through the quiet office.
I didn’t answer immediately.
Rain tapped softly against the glass walls behind me while the security footage continued playing across the large screen mounted on the wall.
Nyra.
Standing outside the hospital vending machine at three in the morning.
Exhausted.
Angry.
Alone.
She rubbed both hands over her face before leaning against the wall for exactly four seconds.
Then she straightened again.
Like weakness was something she refused to allow herself.
My jaw tightened.
“She hasn’t slept properly in forty-eight hours,” Dante muttered.
“I know.”
My voice came out colder than intended.
Dante walked closer to the screen and folded his arms. “This is becoming unhealthy.”
That almost made me laugh.
Unhealthy.
As if anything about me had ever been healthy.
On the screen, Nyra bought the cheapest coffee available.
Black.
No sugar.
Then she pulled two crumpled bills from her pocket and stared at them for a long time.
Counting.
Recounting.
Trying to stretch nothing into survival.
Something ugly moved inside my chest.
I hated that feeling.
Dante noticed my expression immediately.
“She refused your card?”
“Yes.”
“And somehow that made you more interested.”
I finally looked at him.
Nyra thought tonight frightened her.
She still hadn’t seen what I buried for touching her nephew.
Or how many cameras had followed her long before she learned my name.
“She broke a man’s jaw with one hand last night.”
“She also threatened to stab one of your guards with a pen two hours ago.”
A faint smirk touched my mouth.
“She was bluffing.”
“No,” Dante said carefully. “I genuinely think she would’ve done it.”
That made the room quiet for a second.
Because he was right.
Nyra Kane wasn’t scared enough.
Most people looked at me and saw power.
Danger.
Death.
Nyra looked at me like I was simply another problem standing in her way.
And for some reason…
I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I turned back toward the screen just in time to watch her pause outside Leo’s hospital room.
The exhaustion disappeared from her face before she entered.
Like she had learned how to hide pain before childhood even ended.
I watched her smile at the boy.
Watched her brush his hair gently away from his forehead.
Watched her pretend everything was fine.
That smile was different.
Softer.
Real.
Not the sharp-edged anger she carried everywhere else.
My fingers tapped slowly against the desk.
“She would burn the world down for that child,” Dante said quietly.
“Yes.”
“And you still plan to pull her into this life?”
I finally muted the footage.
The silence afterward felt heavier.
“This city already pulled her into it,” I said.
Dante stared at me for a moment.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
“You’re getting attached.”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
Too sharp.
Dante noticed.
Of course he did.
“You knew her mother,” he said carefully.
I felt my entire body go still.
Dangerous topic.
Very dangerous.
“She resembles her.”
That sentence dragged old memories into the room immediately.
A woman with gold earrings and cold intelligence.
A woman who once walked into a meeting full of criminals and businessmen without fear.
A woman who died because powerful men panicked.
Nyra had her eyes.
And maybe that was part of the problem.
Dante exhaled slowly. “If she finds out what your father’s organization did years ago—”
“She won’t.”
But even as I said it, something inside me tightened.
Because secrets never stayed buried forever.
Especially not around women like Nyra Kane.
A knock interrupted the conversation.
“Enter.”
One of my men stepped inside quickly.
“Sir, we found Adrian Kross.”
The name instantly darkened my mood.
Adrian Kross.
The man who destroyed Elara Kane.
The man who should’ve died years ago.
“Where?”
“Penthouse downtown. He’s been meeting with Nikolai Soren’s people.”
Of course he had.
Rival snakes always gathered together eventually.
Dante swore quietly under his breath.
I stood slowly from behind the desk.
“Keep watching him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And if he gets within fifty feet of Nyra—”
The guard swallowed hard.
“I understand.”
He left immediately.
Dante rubbed his jaw tiredly. “You still haven’t told her about Adrian.”
“She has enough problems.”
“She’ll see it as betrayal later.”
I looked toward the frozen image of Nyra on the screen.
Angry eyes.
Bruised knuckles.
A woman surviving entirely on rage and stubbornness.
Maybe Dante was right.
But the truth was dangerous.
And I wasn’t ready to watch her hate me yet.
Because she would.
When Nyra finally learned who I truly was…
She would look at me differently.
Not with anger.
Not with resistance.
But disgust.
The thought irritated me more than it should have.
Another knock interrupted my thoughts.
“Sir,” another guard said carefully, “Miss Kane is trying to leave the hospital.”
I moved instantly.
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s she going?”
“She didn’t say.”
I grabbed my coat.
Dante sighed behind me. “Lucien—”
“She’s exhausted and desperate. That combination gets people killed.”
Or worse.
Used.
Manipulated.
Broken.
I knew this city too well.
And I knew exactly what hungry men saw when they looked at women like Nyra.
A fighter with no protection.
A woman cornered by debt.
Easy prey.
My jaw hardened.
Not anymore.
Because whether she realized it or not—
Nyra Kane already belonged inside my world.
---
The rain hit hard the second I stepped outside.
Cold.
Sharp.
The city smelled like smoke and wet pavement.
My driver opened the car door immediately.
“She headed east,” he informed me.
Toward Vesper.
Interesting.
I leaned back against the leather seat while the car moved through traffic.
Nyra was stubborn.
Predictable in dangerous ways.
If she refused my help, she’d try earning money herself again.
Which meant fighting.
Probably injured.
Probably angry.
Definitely reckless.
I stared out the tinted window quietly.
Then asked the question already bothering me.
“Who gave her tonight’s fight booking?”
The driver hesitated.
“Ivy Stone.”
Of course.
That woman hovered around Nyra too much.
Always watching.
Always talking.
People underestimated desperate friends.
They shouldn’t.
Money turned loyalty rotten very quickly.
The car stopped outside Vesper fifteen minutes later.
Music vibrated through the walls.
Lights flashed against wet streets.
Drunk men laughed loudly near the entrance.
Pathetic.
I stepped out slowly.
The guards at the front straightened immediately.
“Boss.”
“Where is she?”
“In the lower ring.”
I walked inside without another word.
The underground arena smelled like blood, alcohol, and sweat.
Fists.
Money.
Violence.
The crowd screamed loudly around the fighting cage.
And there she was.
Nyra stood in the center under bright lights.
Breathing hard.
Blood stained the corner of her mouth.
Her dark hair clung slightly to her damp skin.
And still—
She looked terrifying.
A man twice her size circled her carefully.
Afraid.
Good instinct.
Nyra wiped blood from her lip with the back of her hand.
Then smiled.
Not sweet.
Not warm.
Predatory.
The crowd roared.
The man charged first.
Big mistake.
Nyra moved fast.
One sidestep.
One elbow.
One brutal hit to the throat.
The man collapsed instantly.
Silence hit the room for half a second.
Then chaos exploded.
People screamed her name.
Money exchanged hands.
Someone laughed hysterically nearby.
But Nyra didn’t celebrate.
She only stood there breathing hard.
Empty.
Like hurting people was simply another job now.
Something dark twisted inside me again.
Possession.
Recognition.
Need.
Mine.
The thought arrived suddenly.
Dangerously.
And I hated how natural it felt.
Nyra finally lifted her gaze toward the balcony above the ring.
Toward me.
The second she saw me, her expression changed immediately.
Annoyance.
Exhaustion.
Anger.
Interesting.
No fear.
Never fear.
I watched her climb out of the cage and shove past people toward the hallway behind the arena.
I followed slowly.
By the time I reached the hallway, she was already washing blood from her hands in the sink.
“You shouldn’t be fighting tonight.”
She looked at me through the mirror.
“You shouldn’t be stalking me.”
Fair.
Water dripped from her bruised knuckles.
I stepped closer.
“You reopened your stitches.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I know.”
That made her pause.
Only for a second.
But I noticed.
Nyra turned toward me fully now.
“What exactly do you want from me?”
Simple question.
Dangerous answer.
I looked at her silently for a moment.
Then my eyes dropped toward the fading bruise near her ribs.
Last night’s injury.
Someone hit her hard.
Too hard.
Rage flickered through me instantly.
“Who touched you?”
Nyra blinked once.
“What?”
“The bruise.”
Realization crossed her face immediately.
Then irritation followed.
“You don’t get to ask me that.”
“Answer the question.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“There it is.”
“There what is?”
“That control thing you do.”
I stared at her quietly.
Nyra stepped closer instead of backing away.
Interesting choice.
“You walk around acting calm,” she said softly, “but everything about you screams violence.”
The hallway suddenly felt smaller.
Hotter.
More dangerous.
“And yet,” I murmured, “you still walked toward me.”
Something flickered in her expression.
Not fear.
Something more complicated.
That pleased me more than it should have.
Nyra looked away first.
“Why pay for Leo’s treatment?”
“Because you needed help.”
“That’s not a real answer.”
No.
It
wasn’t.
But the real answer was worse.
Because I’d been watching her long before tonight.
Long before the hospital.
Long before she ever learned my name.
And if she discovered that now—
She’d run.
I stepped closer slowly.
Close enough to smell rain and blood on her skin.
Close enough to feel her anger.
“Take the job, Nyra.”
Her breathing changed slightly.
“Or what?”
My gaze held hers.
“Or eventually this city will destroy you.”
Nyra’s jaw tightened.
Then she whispered the one thing I didn’t expect.
“Maybe it already did.”
And for the first time in years—
I didn’t know what to say.
- Writer
