Chapter 4 – The Devil’s Protection
1473 Words
For the rest of the morning, Elaine stayed in Lucien’s room, staring out the window at the sprawling Blackthorne estate. The garden below was immaculate, every flower arranged with cold precision. Nothing here was soft. Nothing here belonged to her.
Including the man who brought her here.
Lucien’s presence still lingered like a shadow, heavy and dangerous.
Every word he spoke replayed in her mind:
“Don’t hide your pain from me.”
“I won’t forgive people who hurt you.”
He made it sound like a vow.
Elaine hugged her knees on the bed, trying to calm her heartbeat, when a knock suddenly echoed through the room.
“Miss Elaine, may I enter?” a maid called softly.
“Yes, come in,” Elaine replied.
The maid, an elegant older woman with silver-streaked hair, stepped inside with a folded stack of clothes.
“These are for you,” she said gently. “Formal wear, casual wear… Master Lucien ordered everything delivered this morning.”
Elaine blinked. “All of this… for me?”
“Yes, Miss. The master instructed that you are not to lack anything.”
A painful warmth stirred in her chest.
Why was he doing this?
Why did he care so much?
She hesitated. “Where are my old clothes?”
The maid bowed slightly. “They’ve already been stored, Miss. But if you prefer them—”
“No, it’s fine.”
Elaine forced a smile.
When the maid left, Elaine exhaled shakily and picked up one of the dresses—a soft cream-colored one, delicate and simple. Not the typical lavish gowns worn by the wealthy. It was almost as if… he tried to choose something she would feel safe wearing.
She changed and braided her hair loosely before stepping out of the room.
The hallway was long and silent, lined with dark marble and expensive paintings. Servants lowered their heads respectfully as she passed, but their gazes carried… confusion.
Some fear.
And something else.
Suspicion.
Elaine swallowed. She was never welcome in places like this. Even the staff seemed unsure how to react to her sudden presence.
They probably think I’m a threat too, she thought bitterly.
A villainess invading the master’s life.
She didn’t blame them.
She barely understood why she was here herself.
⸻
Lucien’s Study
Elaine reached the end of the hallway and found the door to Lucien’s study slightly open. Voices came from inside.
She recognized one immediately.
Lucien’s.
And another—deeper, older.
His uncle, perhaps?
“No,” Lucien said coldly, “I won’t reconsider.”
The older man sighed. “Lucien, be reasonable. Taking in that girl—”
Elaine froze.
They’re talking about me.
“—the false heiress,” the older man continued. “She brings trouble. Scandal. The press already smells blood. If the public learns she’s staying here, it will ignite more chaos. She is dangerous to the family’s name.”
Elaine’s chest tightened painfully.
Dangerous.
Trouble.
Scandal.
Words she had heard before.
Lucien’s reply was sharp enough to cut steel.
“She is not dangerous.”
“Lucien—”
“She is under my protection.”
Elaine’s breath caught.
“She was framed. Manipulated. Nearly killed.”
Lucien’s voice grew colder. “And the person responsible is still unpunished.”
The older man scoffed. “So this is personal?”
“Very.”
Lucien didn’t hesitate.
Elaine covered her mouth with trembling fingers.
Why was he defending her like this?
Why did he sound… furious on her behalf?
“You’re acting irrationally,” the uncle pressed. “She is the daughter of a family that has already brought you trouble.”
Lucien replied softly, dangerously:
“Say one more word against her, and this conversation ends permanently.”
Silence fell in the room.
Elaine’s pulse pounded in her ears.
She stepped back quietly, trying not to make a sound.
But the floor creaked.
Lucien’s voice shifted instantly.
Sharper. A predator sensing movement.
“Who’s there?”
Elaine panicked and stumbled away from the door, but before she could escape, the door opened fully.
Lucien stood there.
His expression darkened when he saw her.
“Elaine.”
She looked down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to listen, I—”
“You should be resting,” he interrupted, stepping toward her.
“I… wanted to walk around.”
His gaze swept over her—her braided hair, the dress he picked, her pale face.
“Come inside.”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t interrupt—”
Lucien didn’t let her finish. His hand gently but firmly closed around her wrist.
“You’re not interrupting.”
Before she could react, he brought her into the study.
The older man stared at her with visible disapproval.
Elaine bowed politely. “G-good afternoon, sir.”
“You’re the girl,” he murmured. “The one who caused the Blackthorne–Harrington engagement to collapse.”
Elaine immediately flinched.
Lucien’s jaw clenched. Hard.
“Uncle,” he said in a voice filled with warning, “leave.”
The uncle raised an eyebrow. “I am advising you—”
“Leave.”
This time, Lucien’s tone was icy enough to silence the room.
The older man exhaled sharply and walked out, shooting Elaine one last cold glance.
When the door closed, Lucien turned to her.
“Did he upset you?”
Elaine shook her head quickly. “No—no, I just… I don’t want your family thinking I’m ruining things.”
“You’re not ruining anything.”
“They think I’m the reason you called off your engagement.”
Lucien stepped closer. “I did that for my own reasons.”
“Everyone believes it’s my fault,” Elaine whispered. “They think I’m manipulative. A liar. A villainess.”
Lucien’s gaze softened—not visibly, but enough that she felt it.
“People will believe what benefits them.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden.”
She bit her lip hard. “Then what am I?”
Lucien looked at her for a long, breathless moment.
Then he reached up and tilted her chin slightly so she would look at him.
“You,” he said in a low voice,
“are someone I do not want to lose.”
Elaine’s entire world stopped.
His touch wasn’t forceful—just steady, careful—as if he was afraid she would break.
“Lucien…”
He released her slowly. “I will deal with my family. And everyone else.”
“But—”
“You just focus on healing.”
Elaine blinked rapidly, fighting the sting behind her eyes.
Why did his words keep hitting her so deeply?
Why was he acting this way?
As if he cared.
As if she mattered.
Lucien stepped back, his expression unreadable again.
“You should eat lunch soon. I’ll accompany you.”
“You don’t have to,” she whispered.
“I want to.”
Her heart stumbled.
Lucien walked to his desk and picked up his jacket.
“Your room is ready,” he said. “I’ll show you.”
“My… room?”
“Yes.”
Not a guest room.
Not a temporary place.
Her room.
Elaine followed him quietly through the hallway until he stopped in front of a door.
He opened it.
The room was spacious, elegant, but warm. Soft colors, sunlight pouring in from large windows, shelves filled with books, a balcony overlooking a small garden.
It was nothing like his cold, dark bedroom.
This room felt gentle.
Safe.
“Do you like it?” Lucien asked, watching her carefully.
Elaine turned to him, wide-eyed. “You designed this… for me?”
“Yes.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth.
She didn’t deserve this.
Not after what she put him through.
Not after all the chaos attached to her name.
“Lucien… why are you being so nice to me?” she whispered.
He looked at her for a long moment.
Too long.
Then he walked closer, gently brushing her hair behind her ear—exactly the way he had done that morning.
“I told you,” he murmured.
“You’re under my protection now.”
Her heartbeat fluttered.
But then he added, even softer:
“And I protect what’s mine.”
Elaine’s breath caught completely.
Mine.
Before she could respond, Lucien stepped back.
“Rest for a while. I’ll come get you for lunch.”
He closed the door behind him, leaving her stunned in the middle of the room.
Elaine touched her cheek where his fingers had grazed, feeling the heat spread under her skin.
She whispered into the empty room:
“What… am I becoming to him?”
And why did it scare her so much?
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