Chapter 2 – The Devil’s First Warning
1108 Words
The hospital hallway smelled faintly of antiseptic and midnight cold. Elaine sat at the far end of the corridor, her posture rigid, fingers clasped so tightly together that her knuckles had turned white. Outside the ward, doctors moved in and out with clipped urgency, but none of them dared speak too loudly—not with him standing there.
Lucien Blackthorne.
The man whispered about in every corner of high society.
The man feared by business giants, politicians, even the underworld.
The man who had just looked at Elaine as if she were the only person in a room full of chaos.
But she knew better.
She was a mistake—dragged into this because her “sister” pushed her.
A villainess in someone else’s story.
Elaine kept her gaze away from him. The cold wall felt safer.
Footsteps approached.
She knew the sound before she even looked—measured, slow, heavy with authority.
Lucien stopped in front of her.
“You’re hurt.”
His voice was calm, too calm, as if suppressing something lethal beneath it.
Elaine lifted her eyes. Those midnight-black irises sent a chill down her spine. “It’s nothing. The nurse already bandaged it.”
Lucien’s gaze flicked to her wrist wrapped in gauze. For a moment, his jaw tightened. “You should have come to me instead of letting them drag you in here like a criminal.”
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
And also—I shouldn’t even be near you.
“You live in my house,” Lucien said, his tone dangerously soft. “If someone harms you, you come to me.”
Elaine lowered her head. If only you knew I don’t belong in your house at all…
He crouched down suddenly.
Elaine froze.
He took her injured wrist gently, turning it over with surprising care. His fingers were warm—too warm for someone known as the Devil of the North.
“Does it still hurt?”
“N-no.”
“You’re lying.”
Her breath caught. How does he see through everything?
Before she could pull away, a doctor rushed toward them, bowing stiffly. “Mr. Blackthorne, we’ve confirmed your brother is stable. The procedure was a success.”
Elaine exhaled. “Thank goodness…”
The doctor glanced at her, confused by her relief.
Lucien wasn’t confused at all—he was watching her reaction intensely.
“Why do you care?” he asked.
Elaine blinked. “What?”
“My brother,” Lucien said, standing up. “You care whether he lives or dies.”
“It’s…normal to care,” she muttered. “He saved you earlier. And I—”
I don’t want anything bad happening to anyone because of me.
But her voice trembled at the end.
Lucien’s eyes sharpened, as if he heard every unspoken word.
Then, suddenly, he turned to the guards nearby. “Bring the girl who pushed her.”
Elaine’s blood ran cold. “Lucien, no.”
Her voice cracked. “Please don’t bring her in front of me.”
Lucien paused—not because he agreed, but because her reaction startled him.
“You’re afraid of her?” His tone dropped to icy steel. “Why?”
“I—It’s not that.” Elaine swallowed. “I just don’t want trouble. I already caused…too much.”
“You didn’t cause anything.” Lucien took one step closer, his shadow falling over her. “I will decide who is guilty.”
Elaine felt her chest tighten.
He was too close.
Too overwhelming.
“Lucien… This is unnecessary.”
“You were nearly thrown into moving traffic,” he said slowly. “And I am going to know why.”
Her heart sank.
The guards dragged a girl down the hallway—a girl with trembling legs and messy tears.
Liana.
Elaine’s “sister,” the same one who had been adored all her life.
Liana’s voice shook the moment she saw Elaine.
“She—she did this to herself! I swear! I only tried to stop her—”
Lucien’s expression snapped.
“Lie again,” he said, “and I’ll ensure you never set foot in high society again.”
Liana’s breath hitched.
Elaine stood abruptly. “Lucien, stop—she’s scared.”
“She should be.”
Elaine grabbed his sleeve before she could think.
He looked down at her hand.
She quickly let go, embarrassed.
“She’s still my sister…” Elaine whispered.
“No,” Lucien said.
His voice carried a quiet ruthlessness.
“Anyone who harms you ceases to be family.”
Liana burst into tears. “Elaine, please—tell him you don’t blame me!”
Elaine’s lips parted, but words wouldn’t come.
“Miss,” one of the guards said respectfully to Lucien, “should we escort her out or wait for further instructions?”
Lucien didn’t look away from Elaine.
“This is your last chance,” he said softly—too softly for someone delivering a threat. “Tell me the truth. Did she hurt you?”
Elaine’s fingers trembled.
If she said yes, Liana’s life would be over.
If she said no, Lucien would know she was lying.
So she said nothing.
Lucien exhaled slowly, an unreadable shadow passing over his expression. “You protect her,” he murmured.
“I’m not protecting—”
“You are.”
He stepped back, but his gaze remained locked with hers. “But hear this, Elaine. I will not allow anyone to touch what is mine.”
Her heart stopped.
She didn’t know if he meant it literally or metaphorically—whether it was possessiveness, protection, or simply the way Lucien claimed everything in his world.
But the words sank deep into her.
He turned to the guards.
“Throw her out. Permanently.”
Liana screamed. “Elaine! Say something! Please!”
Elaine wanted to speak—she really did—but Lucien’s presence, the weight of everything, made her tongue freeze.
The guards dragged Liana away.
The corridor fell silent.
Only Lucien’s voice remained.
“You should rest,” he said gently, touching her shoulder. “Come home with me.”
Home.
A place she didn’t belong.
But when her knees wobbled slightly, Lucien caught her before she fell.
“Easy,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
Elaine’s vision blurred.
Lucien lifted her effortlessly, carrying her down the hallway as if she weighed nothing.
And before she drifted into sleep, she heard his voice—low, dangerous, protective.
“You are not a villainess, Elaine. I’ll destroy anyone who tries to make you one.”
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