Chapter Four
646 Words
Evangeline barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lucian—his smirk, his touch, the way his dark eyes seemed to strip away every layer of armor she had built around herself. By the time the sun rose, she was exhausted, but staying in bed wasn’t an option. If Lucian was back, if he had found her, then she had to be ready for whatever was coming next.
Her morning routine was supposed to ground her, but even as she brewed coffee and forced herself to eat a slice of toast, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Paranoia, she told herself. And yet, as she stepped outside and locked her apartment door, her gaze darted up and down the street, searching for any sign of him.
Nothing.
With a slow exhale, she forced herself to move. She had a shift at the bookstore today, and if there was ever a place to lose herself, it was there—surrounded by stories of people whose lives weren’t tangled in the grip of a man who refused to let go.
The walk to the store was quiet, but the unease in her stomach never fully faded. It only got worse when she stepped inside and saw him.
Lucian was there, leaning casually against the counter, speaking with her coworker, Hannah. He looked perfectly at ease, dressed in a fitted dark suit that made him stand out among the quaint surroundings of the bookstore.
Hannah noticed Evangeline first. “Oh! Evie, your friend here was just asking about you.”
Friend. The word was almost laughable.
Evangeline’s fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. “What are you doing here, Lucian?”
Lucian turned toward her, his expression unreadable. “Visiting.”
She forced herself to remain calm, even as her heart pounded wildly in her chest. “You don’t belong here.”
His lips curved slightly. “I go where I please.”
Hannah glanced between them, sensing the tension. “Uh, I’ll be in the back if you need me.”
The moment they were alone, Evangeline folded her arms. “You need to leave.”
Lucian didn’t move. “And if I don’t?”
She exhaled sharply, frustration mixing with the fear she refused to let him see. “Then I’ll call the police.”
Lucian chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent shivers down her spine. “Go ahead.”
Her breath caught. He was daring her, knowing full well she wouldn’t. Not because she was afraid of what the police would—or wouldn’t—do, but because she knew the kind of man Lucian was. He operated in a world where rules were merely suggestions, and threats like hers were nothing more than empty words.
“You can’t do this,” she said, her voice quieter now.
Lucian stepped closer, his scent invading her senses. “Do what?”
“This.” She gestured between them, hating how unsteady she felt. “Showing up, pretending like you still have any claim over me.”
Lucian reached out, his fingers grazing her wrist. “Angel, I don’t pretend.”
Evangeline yanked her hand back, but the damage was already done. Her pulse had betrayed her, racing beneath his touch.
Lucian’s gaze darkened. “You can run. You can fight. But in the end, you know the truth.”
She swallowed hard. “And what truth is that?”
He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You were always mine.”
A shudder ran through her, but before she could find a response, Lucian stepped back. “I’ll see you soon, angel.”
Then, just as effortlessly as he had arrived, he walked out of the store, leaving her standing there, breathless and shaking.
This wasn’t over.
Not even close.
- Writer
