He Took My Vengeance to Covet Me

Chapter 8

"Winnie? It's me."

A cheerful voice called down from above—Lucas.

I finally let out the breath I'd been holding forever.

"Lucas, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

His face was stone-cold serious. "Ethan's onto you. Step outside now, and he'll drag you back before you can blink."

My eyes widened as he yanked me back inside by the wrist.

Without thinking, I glanced at the threshold behind me. Would I ever cross it again?

Lucas marched me to my room and pulled a tiny vial from his coat. "Here," he thrust it into my palm.

"What's this?"

"Pure croton extract. Won't kill you, but one sip and you'll be stuck in the bathroom all night."

He popped the cork and pressed the vial to my lips.

I stared, dumbstruck. "You want me to drink this?"

"Move it! When Ethan finds your room empty, what'll you tell him?" He glared like I was the world's biggest i***t.

With a nervous chuckle, I snatched the bottle and jammed the stopper back in. My fingertips grazed his palm—just a feather-light touch, but his ears burned red in a heartbeat.

He coughed awkwardly. "I know what Ethan told you. About tonight..."

My head jerked up. His face turned so red I thought he might burst.

He couldn't meet my eyes. "I wasn't—I didn't mean to spy. Just brought medicine that day and... overheard."

I bit my lip. As I turned away, strong arms dragged me into an embrace that smelled of soap and warmth.

"Winnie, don't blame yourself. You've done nothing wrong."

Tears pricked my lashes. Not from sadness—just this raw, unfamiliar ache, like being seen for the first time.

I pushed him away gently. "Lucas... if only I'd met you first." The words escaped in a whisper—forbidden, dangerous.

But if I didn't say it now, I might never get another chance.

I didn't dare look back. Just ran, my pulse screaming in my ears.

When I burst into my room, Ethan lounged on the bed, his voice smooth as silk, eyes unreadable. "Winnie, where have you been?"

I flashed him a coy smile, twirling the vial between my fingers. "Ethan, they say a girl's first time hurts. So I asked Lucas for... assistance."

The liquid inside caught the light like liquid rainbows. The frost in his gaze melted—just a little—as I shrugged off my robe, letting the scandalous dress beneath slip into view.

It was a pristine white gown, the delicate fabric sheer enough to reveal porcelain skin beneath, with intricate lace cutouts at the neckline and waist—a seductive glimpse more alluring than full exposure.

Ethan's eyes darkened with hunger. With a sharp gesture, he dismissed the dumbstruck guard before crushing me against him, his large hand splayed possessively across my waist.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. "Winnie," he murmured, voice husky with lust, "you scared me. I thought you were trying to escape."

Fingers tightening around the vial, I wound my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "How could I, Ethan?" I teased, tracing his jawline with my fingertips. "I've been waiting for this night far too long."

My act worked—his grip tightened approvingly. His other hand slid upward, gathering the delicate fabric of my dress with deliberate slowness. The air between us grew thick with the promise of what was coming. Seizing the moment, I pressed my lips to his.

Surprise flickered across his face before melting into rapture. His palm, damp against my back, cradled my head as he deepened the kiss. Unlike his usual demanding assaults, this was a slow burn that felt alarmingly real.

For a fleeting moment, I wondered. Without my hatred for Anthony poisoning my heart, without this web of deception between us... could I have drowned in this counterfeit devotion? Might I have loved him?

But life offers no rewrites. No matter what pretty lies he spun, the truth remained—I was but a gilded weapon in his war against Anthony. Every caress, every tender word came with strings attached.

Like a prized falcon obeying its master, I'd never stand as his equal. His love was a farce. Possession? Certainly. Exploitation? Without doubt. But love? Respect? Never.

As his breathing grew ragged, I raised the glimmering vial between us. "Ethan," I purred, "Lucas promised just one sip will ensure... an extraordinary night."

When he took the bottle, my heart stuttered—had he noticed? But no. He uncorked it without hesitation, throat working as he swallowed the liquid. I watched, torn between relief and disbelief.

Noting my dazed expression, he tilted the bottle playfully. "Since you went to such lengths, Winnie..." He took another sip, leaning in to share it directly.

I steeled myself, eyes squeezing shut—only for the romantic spell to shatter like dropped glass as he hiccuped violently, swallowing the dose instead. "Must've been... something I ate," he muttered, face flushing crimson. Before he could finish, an obscene gurgle erupted from his stomach.

Cracking one eye open, I found Ethan frozen in mortification. "Perhaps..." I feigned concern...

"You look like you've got an upset stomach. Should I call Lucas to check on you?"

Ethan clutched his belly, his face going green. His lips trembled before he finally rasped out. "No need. I'll... step out for a moment. I'll return shortly."

I bit back my laughter until I was sure he'd staggered far enough away—then doubled over with laughter.

Just as I caught my breath, a soft tap tap came from the window.

Cautiously, I tiptoed over and cracked it open a sliver. Nothing there.

But the moment I leaned out, something soft brushed against my forehead.

My gaze snapped up—and there was Lucas, leaning on the windowsill, his soft lips pressed gently to my forehead.

When our eyes met, my heart skipped a beat.

In one swift motion, I yanked him inside and slammed the window shut behind him.