The Yes That Breaks Me
1209 Words
Elara's POV
My blood roared in my ears.
“Or he disappears.”
Lucian’s words echoed through me like a death sentence.
“You said you wouldn’t touch him,” I whispered.
“I didn’t,” he said calmly. “But you’re not the only one with enemies.”
“That’s a lie,” I snapped. “You’re doing this.”
He didn’t deny it.
He didn’t confirm it either.
Which was worse.
My phone buzzed again.
Evan: Someone’s outside my building.
Evan: I think I’m being followed.
My chest seized.
“Stop this,” I begged. “Please.”
Lucian’s jaw tightened.
“Sign.”
“You’re ruining lives.”
“I’m saving yours.”
“No,” I cried. “You’re destroying it.”
He crouched in front of me again, dark eyes burning into mine.
“You’re stronger than this,” he said quietly. “Stronger than him.”
“You don’t get to decide who I love.”
“I do when he’s in the way.”
Tears blurred my vision. “That’s not love. That’s control.”
“Call it whatever you want,” he said. “But it works.”
“You’re evil.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I’m the devil you already know.”
My hands shook as I looked at my phone.
Another message from Evan.
Evan: Elara, I’m scared.
My breath broke.
"I’ll never forgive you."
“Good.”
“I’ll never love you.”
His eyes darkened — just for a fraction of a second.
“Then I’ll settle for ownership.”
That shattered something inside me.
“You’re sick.”
“Maybe,” he said softly. “But you’re signing.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’d rather die.”
“Don’t say that,” he snapped sharply — the first c***k in his control.
I blinked.
“What?”
His jaw tightened. “Don’t ever say that.”
For half a second, something raw flashed through his eyes.
Then it vanished.
“Sign,” he said coldly. “Or I make the call.”
My phone buzzed again.
Evan: They’re outside my door.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Stop,” I sobbed. “Please.”
Lucian stood, pulled out his phone, and unlocked it.
My heart stopped.
“I’m calling.”
“No!” I cried.
He didn’t move.
“Lucian—”
“I gave you time.”
“You’re killing him.”
“No,” he said calmly. “You are.”
That broke me.
My knees hit the floor.
“I’ll sign,” I whispered.
His phone lowered instantly.
Silence slammed into the room.
“You’ll sign,” he repeated.
“Yes,” I said, voice shattered. “Just don’t hurt him.”
“Done.”
“Promise.”
“I don’t break promises,” he said.
That was a lie.
But I was out of options.
He handed me the contract.
My hands shook so badly I could barely hold the pen.
“You win,” I whispered.
“I always do.”
The words cut deeper than anything he’d ever said.
I signed.
Lucian exhaled slowly — like he’d been holding his breath.
And just like that…
My life ended.
He took the contract and studied it like it was a business deal — not the destruction of someone else’s future.
“Good,” he said. “Wedding’s in four weeks.”
I laughed hysterically. “Of course it is.”
“You’ll move into Blackwood Tower tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not living with you.”
“You’re my fiancée.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“No,” he said quietly.
That surprised me.
“You look like you are.”
“I look like I won.”
“That’s the same thing.”
He didn’t respond.
Instead, he said, “Your boyfriend is safe.”
I looked up sharply. “Where is he?”
“At home,” Lucian said. “Unharmed.”
“Swear.”
“I swear.”
My chest caved in with relief — and grief.
“You ruined everything,” I whispered.
“No,” he said softly. “I redirected it.”
“I loved him.”
“You loved the idea of safety,” he replied. “Not him.”
“You don’t get to define my feelings.”
“I do when they’re temporary.”
I flinched.
“Stop saying that word.”
“You hate it because it’s true.”
“No,” I snapped. “I hate it because you used it to break me.”
Something dark crossed his eyes.
“I never wanted to break you.”
“Then what did you want?”
He didn’t answer.
After he left, I collapsed onto the couch and sobbed until my chest hurt.
Until my throat burned.
Until my heart felt like it had been hollowed out.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Evan.
Evan: They left.
Evan: I’m okay.
Evan: I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t do this anymore.
Evan: I love you. Goodbye.
I pressed my hand to my mouth to silence the sound tearing out of me.
That was it.
The man I loved was gone.
The future I’d built was gone.
Everything I’d fought for — gone.
All because of Lucian Blackwood.
The next morning, I packed.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I was told to.
Two black SUVs waited outside my building like a prison escort.
Lucian stood by the door, suit perfect, expression unreadable.
“Ready?” he asked.
“No.”
“Good,” he said. “You’ll fit in.”
I shoved past him into the elevator.
Blackwood Tower felt colder in daylight — all glass and steel and shadows. The penthouse was massive, silent, sterile.
A cage.
“Your room’s down the hall,” Lucian said. “The east wing.”
“I’m not sleeping near you.”
“You won’t,” he said. “Yet.”
I glared at him.
“Relax,” he said. “I’m not touching you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I never do.”
The bedroom was beautiful — king-sized bed, floor-to-ceiling windows, private balcony.
It felt like a hotel.
Not a home.
Not mine.
“I’ll never forgive you,” I said quietly.
“I know.”
“I’ll never love you.”
“We’ll see.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I turned away.
“Dinner’s at eight,” he said. “Wear something appropriate.”
“I’m not your employee.”
“You’re my fiancée.”
“I’m your prisoner.”
“Same thing,” he said.
“You’re disgusting.”
“You’re still here.”
I slammed the door.
That night, I stared at my reflection in the mirror — hollow-eyed, pale, broken.
Four weeks.
Four weeks until I married the man who ruined my life.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Unknown: You signed too easily.
My heart skipped.
Me: Who is this?
Three dots appeared.
Then:
Unknown: If you think Lucian Blackwood is your villain, you haven’t met the real one yet.
My blood ran cold.
- Writer
