"Borrowed Time"
1134 Words
CHAPTER FOUR
The world had changed overnight.
I stood at the far end of the executive hallway of Dever Holdings, my phone clutched in my hand as the headlines ran through my mind like a cyclone.
> “Lucian Vale Arrives at Gala With Mystery Woman—Is This the Next Heiress of Dever Holdings?” “Black Satin and Secrets: Who Is the Lady on Lucian Vale’s Arms?” “Lucian’s Surprise Return Stuns the City—But All Eyes Are on Her.”
My image was everywhere—but never my name. Some photos were blurred, others hauntingly elegant. A masked woman in black satin, clinging to the edge of a man who commanded every room he walked into. No one had captured my face fully. Not yet. And that was the only thing keeping this from turning into a storm I couldn’t escape.
My heels clicked against marble as I walked briskly through the hallway, head down, body tense. I didn’t see anyone’s gaze, but I could feel it. The weight of curiosity clinging to every passing glance. Whispers floated like mist.
“They say she’s from Europe.” “Maybe a foreign investor.” “He doesn’t just show up with someone unless it means something.”
None of them knew it was me. Yet. But masks didn’t stay on forever.
My phone buzzed sharply in my palm.
Mum.
My breath caught. I stepped into the nearest alcove, hands trembling slightly as I accepted the call.
“Hello?”
“Aveline, darling,” she said warmly, her voice threaded with concern. “Have you seen the news this morning?”
I hesitated. “Yes… yes, I have.”
“Well,” she exhaled slowly. “That article—Lucian Vale, that Dever Holdings heir. The pictures. He was at that masquerade gala last night with someone. A woman. No one knows who she is. People are speculating.”
I swallowed the tight knot in my throat. “Yes, everyone’s talking about it here too.”
“You work there. "You must know something.” Her voice turned casual, but I knew that tone. She was fishing.
“I don’t,” I lied smoothly. “It’s all whispers, like everywhere else.”
She hummed, unconvinced but unwilling to push. “Well, just be careful. These kinds of stories, they can pull people in and chew them up. Especially women. Don’t get involved with any of that mess. It’s not worth it.”
“I won’t,” I said, my voice soft. “Promise.”
“Good girl. You’ve worked too hard to let someone else’s spotlight turn into your downfall.”
We hung up, and I stared at the blank screen for a long second. If only she knew.
I was the storm she was warning me about.
I reached Lucian’s office and let myself in without knocking.
He stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, suit crisp, shoulders squared. Below us, the press had camped outside the building. Cameras. Reporters. Microphones. It was a battlefield of curiosity.
“You came,” he said, still facing the glass.
“I had to,” I replied, closing the door behind me. “We can’t ignore this.”
He turned, and I saw it in his eyes. Not fear. Not worry. Strategy. The kind of calculation that came with years of shielding himself from the world’s bite.
“You saw the coverage?”
I nodded. “It was already in my feed before I even left the apartment.”
He handed me a black folder from his desk. I flipped it open, heart dropping.
Emails. Photos. Reports. Screenshots.
“Is this all from last night?”
Lucian nodded. Richard had people watching. He knew I’d show up. He just didn’t expect you.”
I looked up. “And now?”
“Now he’s looking for leverage,” Lucian said. He doesn’t know who you are yet. But it won’t take long.”
A beat passed.
“When does he?” I asked, voice tight.
“He’ll twist it,” Lucian said. Say you’re seducing me. Manipulating me. That I’m reckless. The board’s already on edge.”
“I shouldn’t have gone,” I murmured.
Lucian stepped closer, his voice low. “You should have. What you shouldn’t have to do is feel hunted for it.”
I met his gaze. My pulse was rapid.
“So what do we do?” I asked.
“We stay calm. We figure this out.” His tone shifted, soothing, anchored. “I’ll handle Richard. The press. The board.”
I shook my head slightly. “Lucian, this isn’t just about Dever Holdings anymore. They want a face. A name. And I was there. With you.”
His hand brushed mine, brief and grounding. “Then we kept this between us. Until we understand it.”
A breath of silence passed.
“Are you sure you can keep me out of it?”
He didn’t blink. “I’ll make sure they look elsewhere.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that the man standing before me could outmaneuver the media, his uncle, the board—the entire city if he had to.
But I also knew shadows had a way of slipping through cracks.
Lucian moved back toward the window. His posture was relaxed, but his fingers twitched slightly. Pressure. He carried it like a second skin.
I stepped up beside him.
Outside, reporters circled like vultures.
Inside, the quiet hummed with unspoken fears.
I felt his gaze shift towards me. I didn’t turn to meet it. Not yet.
“Last night,” I said slowly, “feels like a dream I walked out of and can’t get back into.”
Lucian was quiet.
“Do you regret it?” he asked finally.
I turned then. “No. But I don’t know what it means either.”
He gave a faint nod. “Then we take it one step at a time.”
And for now, that had to be enough.
Because love—if that was what it could become—didn’t bloom in the open.
It started in the quiet. In the shadows.
Where no one else could reach it.
—
Downstairs, the crowd outside swelled. Cameras pointed up, not knowing what floor, what room, what woman they should be hunting.
The mystery was intact.
For now.
But as I looked at Lucian—his eyes steady, his presence burning quietly beside me—I knew the clock was ticking.
We were already living on borrowed time.
The question wasn’t whether the truth would come out.
It was whether our truth could survive it.
Would love survive in the shadows?
Or would the light destroy it before it ever had the chance to breathe?
- Writer
