His To Break

Chapter 2: The Ride

Aria had never been in a car so silent.



Not quiet—silent. The kind of silence that wrapped around you like a noose.



Lucien sat beside her in the back of the black Mercedes, dressed in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than all the clothes in her closet. One hand rested on his thigh. The other cradled a phone he hadn’t looked at once.



He didn’t speak.



He hadn’t spoken since they left the penthouse—after she dressed in the clothes he had delivered to her room, tags still on. A soft cream blouse, black high-waisted skirt, silk lingerie. Expensive. Elegant.



Controlling.



“You pick this outfit too?” she asked finally, her voice cutting through the stillness.



“I pick everything now,” he said without looking at her.



She turned her head toward the window, jaw clenched. Outside, the city passed in blurred flashes—wealth, ambition, power, men in tailored suits and women in heels like knives.



“Where are we going?” she asked.



“My office.”



“Why?”



“Because you’re mine to manage.”



Her stomach twisted at his words. “I’m not one of your projects.”



“No,” Lucien said coolly. “You’re more dangerous than any of them.”



He finally looked at her. His gaze was hard and unreadable, but beneath it—heat. Need. The same thing that had driven his fingers into her the night before.



“Are you going to punish me if I misbehave?” she asked, tone mocking.



“Would you like that?”



She didn’t answer.



Didn’t need to.



His eyes dropped to her lips. “Careful, Aria. I don’t make idle threats. If I tell you I’ll put you on your knees, I will.”



A sharp breath caught in her chest. The tension between them was insane. Heavy. Erotic.



He looked away first.



The driver—silent and well-trained—pulled up to a private parking garage beneath a glittering high-rise. Lucien stepped out first and held the door. When Aria stepped into the concrete chill, his hand touched the small of her back for just a second—guiding, claiming.



The moment they walked through the glass doors of Moreau International, the world shifted.



Every head turned.



Lucien Moreau never brought women here. And now here she was, walking beside him like she belonged.



A man at the front desk stood abruptly. “Mr. Moreau—”



“Clear my meetings. Hold all calls,” Lucien said without stopping.



“But sir—”



He didn’t repeat himself. Just kept walking, Aria in tow.



Elevators parted. People stared. And Aria… she straightened her shoulders.



Let them wonder.



Lucien said nothing until they were alone in his office—glass walls, a view that swallowed the city whole, and furniture darker than night.



He unbuttoned his suit jacket and tossed it over a leather chair. Then he turned to her.



“There are three rules.”



“Let me guess,” she said. “Don’t talk. Don’t move. Don’t breathe?”



His mouth twitched. Almost a smile.



“No lies. No scandals. No touching me unless I say so.”



“Or what?” she asked, stepping closer.



Lucien’s voice dropped.



“Or I bend you over that desk and make you scream until my entire floor knows who you belong to.”



Her thighs clenched.



She hated the way his words made her body ache. But what she hated more… was that she wanted to know if he meant it.



So she took another step.



“No touching unless you say so?” she repeated, soft but defiant. “Sounds a lot like control.”



“I told you what this is,” he said. “I didn’t lie.”



Her heart pounded as she stopped in front of him.



“You can’t scare me off,” she whispered. “I’ve been through worse than your arrogance.”



Lucien leaned down, eyes burning into hers. “I’m not trying to scare you, Aria. I’m warning you.”



Then he brushed her hair back, letting his fingers skim her throat.



“You asked me last night what I want from you,” he said, his voice like sin and silk. “I want obedience.”



“Not love?”



“Love is for people who don’t know better.”



His fingers dragged down, stopping just above her breast.



“I want you on your knees when I say. Moaning when I touch you. Mine—until I decide I’m done.”



Her breath hitched.



“And if I say no?”



Lucien smiled. Dark. Dangerous. Beautiful.



“You won’t.”



And the worst part?



She believed him.









Lucien’s words echoed between them like a strike of thunder.



> “You won’t.”



—





Aria’s heart beat so hard it hurt.



He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stood there, watching her, daring her to push him again.



She should’ve been scared. She wasn’t.



Her voice came out low. “What happens when I stop obeying?”



He stepped closer—so close she could feel the heat of his breath at her temple.



“Then I’ll break you in ways you didn’t know you could enjoy.”



Her lips parted, but nothing came out. His fingers ghosted along the edge of her blouse, teasing the silk. His touch wasn’t rough—but it was deliberate. Just like him.



She turned her face away, desperate to breathe. “Why are you doing this?”



“Because you walked into my world,” he murmured. “And now I’m not letting you walk back out without remembering exactly who I am.”



His voice was soft.



His grip on her chin was not.



Lucien tilted her face toward his, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip—slow, calculated, like he was mapping out exactly how he’d own it later.



Aria’s body betrayed her again—melting into the contact, pulse fluttering under his touch.



“You think I haven’t had women beg me for less?” he said, studying every twitch of her expression. “But you—”

He paused. “You don’t even know what you’re offering.”



She smirked, heat flickering through her chest. “Then show me.”



That did something to him. His jaw tensed. His nostrils flared.



Then his phone buzzed on the desk.



He stared at it like it personally offended him. For a moment, she thought he might ignore it. Might push her against the desk and make good on every filthy promise—



But Lucien stepped back. Instantly. Like a switch had been flipped.



He walked around her and snatched the phone off the desk, answering with a clipped, “Yes?”



His voice went cold. Business-mode.



Aria turned, watching him from behind. He was so composed. So in control again. And it infuriated her. Because she wasn’t in control at all.



She could still feel his fingers on her skin. Still smell his cologne. Still taste the threat on his tongue.



Lucien hung up and looked at her over his shoulder.



“You’ll stay in the lounge. No calls. No visitors. Don’t speak to anyone unless they speak to you first.”



She arched her brow. “And if I get bored?”



He gave her a look that could melt stone.



“You won’t.”





---



The lounge was ridiculous.



Leather seating. Custom espresso machine. Views of the city. And a team of employees who looked at her like she was either Lucien’s new trophy or a threat to be handled.



She ignored them all.



Poured herself coffee.



Tried not to think about the way her thighs still ached from last night’s tease.



She crossed one leg over the other and leaned back, staring out the window. She was in enemy territory. But oddly… she didn’t feel powerless.



Let Lucien have his rules.



Let him pretend he was in charge.



She’d play along—for now.



But Aria Vale wasn’t just a girl to be protected or possessed.



She was fire.



And Lucien Moreau?



He was already burning.



—





Minutes passed. Maybe an hour.



Aria sat alone in the velvet and leather lounge outside Lucien’s office, sipping espresso like she belonged. She could feel the eyes on her—staff whispering behind frosted glass, glancing over their laptops. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what she looked like to them.



A beautiful young girl. Barely dressed in luxury. Sitting outside the office of Manhattan’s coldest billionaire.



They thought she was a toy.



But if Lucien Moreau had meant to humiliate her by dragging her into this world and forcing her to sit still like a kept pet, he’d miscalculated.



She would learn this world faster than he expected—and use it against him.



A shadow passed by. Male. Tall. Polished.



He paused.



She looked up.



He smiled.



Aria immediately knew he wasn’t staff. He was something else. His suit screamed old money. His smirk, charming predator.



“Didn’t know Lucien was hiring distractions now,” the man said, eyes raking over her with slow deliberation.



Aria tilted her head. “Didn’t know creeps still roamed corporate hallways.”



He chuckled, unbothered. “Spicy.”



He extended a hand, fingers adorned with an expensive silver ring. 



Her pulse jumped.



Dominic Wolfe.



She’d heard the name. Rival company. Ruthless. Dangerous.



“Aria Vale,” she said coolly, not taking his hand. “Occasional headache.”



He laughed. “So you’re the one they’re all whispering about.”



“Let them whisper.”



Dominic leaned in, just slightly. “Careful, sweetheart. Men like Lucien don’t keep women like you around unless they plan to own you. And when they’re done…” He smiled. “They burn what’s left.”



The elevator behind them dinged.



Dominic stepped back smoothly.



Lucien was there.



His gaze locked on Aria.



Then shifted to Dominic.



The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.



“Dominic,” Lucien said evenly, voice like ice over steel. “Lost again?”



“Just admiring the new decor,” Dominic replied, eyes still on Aria. “You always did have a taste for rare things.”



Lucien didn’t blink. “Touch her and I’ll break your wrist.”



Dominic grinned, hands raised. “Always protective.”



“Always deadly.”



A silent war passed between them—centuries of wealth, power, and unspoken threats in one sharp look.



Then Dominic backed away.



“Lovely to meet you, Aria,” he said smoothly. “Hope to see you again—under… freer circumstances.”



Lucien didn’t speak until the elevator doors closed.



Then: “Come.”



She rose, heart pounding. He didn’t look at her as he opened his office door.



Once inside, he slammed it shut.



“Do not talk to him again,” Lucien snapped.



“I didn’t know who he was.”



“You do now.”



“He approached me.”



Lucien stalked toward her. “That man doesn’t ‘approach’ women. He targets them. Collects them.”



She narrowed her eyes. “And what exactly are you doing?”



Lucien’s jaw clenched.



“I’m protecting what’s mine.”



“You said I’m not yours.”



He stopped in front of her, breathing hard, his hands fisting at his sides.



“Say that again.”



Aria’s chin lifted. “I’m not yours.”



Lucien moved before she could take another breath.



One hand wrapped around her neck—not choking, just holding. Dominating. His other gripped her waist, pulling her body flush to his.



His mouth hovered just above hers.



“You walk into my world. You sleep under my roof. You wear my clothes. You take my touch—and you say you’re not mine?”



She couldn’t breathe.



Didn’t want to.



“Say it again,” he whispered.



She didn’t.



She couldn’t.



So instead, she whispered, “Then prove it.”



His mouth crashed into hers.



Hot. Punishing. Brutal.



He kissed her like she was a war he meant to win. Tongue deep, hand tight in her hair, the other sliding down to grab her ass through the tight skirt he’d chosen for her.



She gasped, moaned, melted—and hated herself for every second of it.



When he broke away, his voice was rough. “Let Wolfe look at you again. I dare him.”



He stepped back, breathing hard. Adjusted his cuffs.



“We’re done here for today.”



Aria stood in the middle of the office, lips swollen, legs weak.



“Lucien—”



He didn’t turn around.



“Go home,” he said. “Before I stop giving you the choice.”