His collateral

Chapter 15

Lucien's finger moved then stilled. It moved again, this time a soft beeping breaking through the silence. For a while there was nothing but that sound, the darkness and the insistent pull urging him to open his eyes. His head throbbed like there was a marathon going on inside it. His lids too heavy to lift.

He tried anyway.

Light bled in, blurry and unfamiliar, before his eyes slipped shut again, dragging him toward unconsciousness. He resisted it, forcing them open once more, blinking repeatedly to keep himself awake. Then came the dryness, raw and burning, his throat aching for relief.

"Water." He rasped, barely hearing his own voice.

His gaze moved slowly around the space as the environment registered.

His room.

Where was everyone? And why did his body feel as though every bone had been broken?

He turned his head to the side, squinting against the harsh sunlight spilling through the windows. His brows drew together.

Someone had actually dared to open his curtains.

Irritation flickered beneath the haze. No one in this house would dare touch his things without permission. Anne knew better. So did the others. And Sara, she respected him enough not to cross that line.

So who did?

Something stirred at the edge of his consciousness. A gunshot, sharp and sudden, followed by a piercing buzz in his ears. He shut his eyes, waiting for it to pass. When it did he exhaled and lifted his hand, reaching for the intercom on the table beside him. The IV line caught his attention. He let his hand fall, attempting to use the other instead. It didn't respond the way it should.

Had he broken his hand too?

He turned his head to look, and froze.

A woman's head rested on his arm, her soft breathing filling the quiet air. He didn't need to see her face. Her long brown hair gave her away.

He had thought of her.

Somewhere between the gunshot and the darkness that followed, a face had surfaced uninvited. Not Sara. Not anyone else.

Her.

His jaw tightened. He refused to examine it. Neither would he give it meaning.Carefully he pulled his arm back, easing her head away. Her eyes flew open instantly and found his. For a moment neither of them moved. Then the softness in his gaze vanished, something colder settling in its place.

"Who permitted you into my room?"

She stared at him in silence, as if processing the question. Then her expression hardened, eyes seething."What a pleasant way to thank someone who watched over you all night, Mr. Black." She said, straightening slowly and running a hand through her hair. "Maybe attempting to strangle you while you were still unconscious wouldn't have been such a bad idea. It would have saved me the pain of hearing your trashy question this bright morning."

"You were the one who opened the curtains."

"What? You're scared of sunlight?" She asked, unbothered.

A slow smile crept across Lucien's lips, cold and dangerous. "Mrs. Dalton—"

"Elena." She cut him off. "I would appreciate being addressed by my name."

"Elena." He repeated, half amused. He sat up, the sheets slipping away as he leaned against the headboard. The pain in his back intensified but he ignored it. When his eyes returned to her, her attention was elsewhere. He followed her gaze.

His exposed upper body.

A knowing smirk appeared on his lips. "I didn't know you had a thing for injured men." He said in a teasing tone.

Her eyes widened in realization and she looked away, clearing her throat.

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "I'm wrapped in bandages but you can't take your eyes off me. How am I sure you didn't do anything to me last night while you were alone?"

The anger in her eyes returned, fiercer this time. "Mr. Black." She said curtly. "I won't stand here and let you undermine my efforts to keep you alive last night."

"Keep me alive?" He scoffed, his smirk widening. "No one forced you to. I would wager you came on your own accord."

She paused, lips pressing into a thin unimpressed line. "I knew this was a bad idea." She muttered, standing. The chair scraped against the floor as she pushed it back. "I'm returning to my room. I hope you recover quickly. You have a lot of questions to answer." She said, turning to leave.

Lucien watched her cross the room, her footsteps heavy with anger. He was unmoved. He had never cared about the feelings of anyone other than his sister.

"If the questions are coming from you then I have no wish to answer." He said, watching for her reaction.

She paused. But instead of losing her composure as he expected she remained calm. The kind of calm that caught him off guard.

"We'll see about that, Mr. Black." Her voice was steady, carrying something that felt less like a response and more like a promise. "I'll let them know you're awake." With that she left, closing the door softly behind her.

Lucien's brows drew together. He had expected cursing. Swearing. Yelling. But this was different. There was something in her tone, quiet and certain, that carried the weight of a threat. The kind that didn't need volume to land.

He reached for the intercom, punching in a number. After one ring the line came alive.

"Come to my room. Now.”