Chapter Nine: Disruptions
817 Words
It had been three days since the kiss.
Three days since Aria had said not yet.
And Lucien had honored it.
But the heat hadn’t faded.
It had only gotten more unbearable.
He hadn’t touched her again. Not like that. Not since he held her by the fire, his arms wrapped around her like a promise unspoken.
Now, Aria sat in the sunroom, a book in her lap she couldn’t focus on, when the air shifted.
A new presence.
Two of Lucien’s guards opened the doors, revealing a woman with long auburn hair and a figure designed to make men sin. She wore a silk blouse half-unbuttoned and heels far too high for the marble floors.
“Lucien’s not expecting visitors,” Aria said, standing slowly.
The woman’s lips curved. “Oh, darling. I never need an invitation.”
She sauntered in like she owned the place, her perfume slicing the air—rich, intoxicating, familiar.
“I’m Selene,” she said. “Old friend.”
Aria’s spine stiffened. “Old what kind of friend?”
Selene’s smile turned sly. “The kind who knows what he tastes like in the dark.”
Before Aria could respond, Lucien’s voice echoed behind them.
“Selene.”
Aria turned to see him walking in, his expression unreadable—until his eyes found hers.
And something dark flashed across them.
Selene walked to him and kissed both his cheeks, lingering on the second. “You didn’t call. I thought maybe you needed a reminder of what you’re missing.”
Lucien looked past her. “Aria, this is Selene.”
“I gathered,” Aria said tightly.
Selene smirked. “She’s feisty. You always did like that.”
Lucien didn’t answer. But his hand reached for Aria’s wrist gently—barely touching. A signal. A grounding force.
“Selene was just leaving,” he said.
“I just got here,” she purred.
“Exactly.”
Selene’s smile faltered, but she turned and strolled out, hips swaying like a threat.
When she was gone, Aria glared at him.
“Old friend?”
Lucien sighed. “She’s irrelevant.”
“She didn’t look irrelevant.”
He stepped closer. “Are you jealous?”
She folded her arms. “I’m not yours to be jealous.”
“Not yet,” he murmured.
Before she could snap back, a new voice interrupted.
“Lucien. Didn’t expect a redhead to be throwing herself at you before lunch.”
A tall man with dark blond hair and a cocky grin entered. His eyes landed on Aria and immediately brightened with interest.
“Well, well,” he said, walking over. “And who might this be?”
Lucien exhaled, clearly annoyed. “Aria, meet my cousin, Rafael.”
“Charmed,” Rafael said, taking Aria’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His eyes sparkled as they lingered on her. “You’re the journalist? You’re far more dangerous than he let on.”
Aria arched a brow. “And you are?”
“Black sheep of the family. Resident disappointment. Occasional assassin.”
Lucien shot him a look. Rafael grinned wider.
Aria liked him immediately—too immediately, judging by the tension radiating from Lucien.
As they all sat down in the lounge, Rafael didn’t leave Aria’s side. He made her laugh. Told stories Lucien refused to share. He even stole one of Lucien’s cigars and lit it with a wink at her.
She felt Lucien watching them the entire time.
And when Rafael leaned over to whisper something in her ear—something teasing, innocent but too close—Lucien stood abruptly.
“Aria. I need a word. Now.”
She followed him down the corridor, heart hammering.
When they were alone in the hallway, he didn’t speak.
He simply looked at her—like a man on the edge of ruin.
“Do you like him?” he asked roughly.
She didn’t answer.
“Do you want him?”
Still silence.
Then Lucien stepped forward, caging her between the wall and his body without touching.
“Because if you do… I’ll break him.”
Aria’s breath stuttered.
“That sounds like jealousy.”
“That is jealousy,” he growled. “And it’s going to destroy me.”
She looked up at him—torn between fire and frost.
Between fear and the rising urge to choose him.
Lucien’s mouth hovered above hers. “Tell me to stop.”
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
But before he could kiss her, the front doors slammed open—echoing like thunder.
A voice shouted: “FBI! Nobody move!”
Lucien stiffened.
Aria turned toward the sound, heart in her throat.
Then she heard it.
“Aria!” a voice cried. Familiar. Frantic. “Aria, we’re here!”
Her mother’s voice.
Her father’s.
And suddenly, everything she thought she knew about this dangerous, twisted world threatened to shatter.
- Writer
