Chapter Six
829 Words
Evangeline spent the rest of the night in a restless haze. Sleep eluded her, chased away by the lingering scent of the rose Lucian had left behind. Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined him standing in her apartment, his presence weaving through her space like a ghost that refused to be exorcized.
By the time dawn broke, she had given up on the idea of rest. She showered, dressed, and made herself a strong cup of coffee, her hands trembling around the mug. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was wired, the weight of Lucian’s return pressing heavily on her chest.
A knock on the door made her jolt.
She hesitated, heart pounding. Was it Asher? Or—
Another knock, more impatient this time.
Taking a steadying breath, she walked toward the door and peered through the peephole.
Lucian.
A shiver ran down her spine. He stood there, impossibly calm, as if he hadn’t broken into her home the night before. His dark suit was immaculate, his expression unreadable. He didn’t belong in the soft morning light, yet there he was, as if the universe had carved out space for him in her world whether she wanted it or not.
She gritted her teeth and opened the door just enough to glare at him. “You have some nerve.”
Lucian smirked. “I always have.”
She resisted the urge to slam the door in his face. “What do you want?”
He leaned against the frame, as if they were nothing more than casual acquaintances. “Breakfast.”
She blinked. “You broke into my apartment, left a damn rose on my counter, and now you think I’m going to have breakfast with you?”
“I don’t think, angel. I know.”
She hated the way her stomach flipped at the sound of his voice, the way her traitorous body still responded to him despite everything.
She crossed her arms. “Not happening.”
Lucian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, familiar key. Her key.
Her breath caught. “You—”
“Had a copy made before you left.” He twirled it between his fingers. “Insurance.”
Anger surged through her. “You had no right—”
“I have every right,” he interrupted smoothly. “And you know it.”
Evangeline clenched her fists, willing herself to stay calm. “You don’t own me, Lucian.”
His eyes darkened. “Don’t I?”
She swallowed hard, but before she could respond, Lucian stepped back. “Get dressed, angel. I’m taking you to breakfast.”
“I told you, I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He tilted his head. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to stay here. You wouldn’t want me making myself comfortable, would you?”
Damn him. He knew exactly how to get under her skin.
With a sharp glare, she snatched her coat from the hook and pushed past him, locking the door behind her. “Fine. Breakfast. And then you leave me alone.”
Lucian chuckled, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Whatever you say, angel.”
The café he took her to was one she hadn’t been to in years. A quiet, elegant little place tucked away on a side street, where the scent of fresh bread and coffee filled the air. It was the kind of place she might have enjoyed if she weren’t sitting across from Lucian.
He ordered for both of them without asking what she wanted, as if he still knew her tastes. The arrogance of it made her bristle, but when the food arrived, perfectly cooked eggs, fresh fruit, and a cappuccino just the way she liked it, she hated that he was right.
She pushed her plate away. “Say whatever it is you brought me here to say, and then we’re done.”
Lucian sipped his coffee, watching her with that infuriating patience of his. “You left without a word.”
Evangeline stiffened. “I didn’t owe you one.”
He smirked. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
She scoffed. “You don’t get to dictate my life, Lucian.”
He leaned forward, his voice low. “We both know that’s not true.”
Something in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. She wanted to fight him, to tell him he was wrong, but the words lodged in her throat.
Lucian reached into his pocket and slid a small envelope across the table. “Consider this an invitation.”
She eyed it warily. “For what?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood, smoothing out the sleeves of his jacket. “I’ll see you soon, angel.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving her staring at the envelope with a sinking feeling in her chest.
Lucian never played fair.
And whatever game he had just begun—she knew she was already losing.
- Writer
