The billionaire’s only obsession

Chapter fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The elevator chimed softly as it opened into Lucian Sinclair’s penthouse — sleek marble floors, muted tones, and a silence that felt almost deliberate. The city lights glowed far below, casting soft reflections across the glass walls. Everything was spotless, precise, lifeless — just the way he liked it.

Lucian loosened his tie as he walked in, setting his phone and watch neatly on the console table by the door. It had been a long day — one filled with irritation he couldn’t quite explain.

He should not have reacted that way with Emma.

She was his intern. Nothing more.

And yet, the image of her standing in the lobby with flowers in her hands — smiling faintly at another man — refused to leave his head. Something dark and unfamiliar had tightened in his chest that moment, something dangerously close to jealousy.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the skyline, and took a long sip. The warmth slid down his throat, dulling nothing.

When he started toward the hallway, his steps slowed at the end of it. He stopped before a door — old oak, locked, untouched. For a long moment, he simply stared.

He hadn’t opened that door in years.

His fingers brushed the doorknob, feeling the cool metal beneath his skin. He could almost hear her laughter echo faintly in the back of his mind — warm, soft, achingly familiar.

“Lucian, you work too much,” she used to say, teasing him as she tugged at his tie. “The world won’t end if you rest for one night.”

A hollow smile ghosted across his lips. He could almost see her — barefoot, wearing one of his shirts, sunlight pooling on the floor as she laughed.

Then the memory shifted — her face pale, her voice raised, the argument that ended with slammed doors and silence. The last thing she ever said to him wasn’t I love you. It was you don’t know how to love anyone anymore.

His hand tightened on the doorknob, veins standing out against his skin.

He had made sure it wouldn’t open.

Behind that door was the last trace of her — her perfume, her sketches, her favorite book on the nightstand. Everything frozen in time.

He didn’t believe in ghosts, but guilt had a way of haunting him just the same.

Lucian dropped his hand, turning away sharply. The man in the glass wall looked back at him — tall, composed, and utterly empty.

He poured another drink, but it didn’t burn as much as it used to. Nothing did. He sank onto the couch, staring at the city’s glittering expanse, and whispered into the empty room,

“You’d hate who I’ve become.”

But there was no answer. Only silence — thick, suffocating, and familiar.

***

By the time Emma got home that evening, the ache behind her eyes hadn’t faded. Her mind replayed the moment in Lucian’s office — his clipped tone, the flash of something like anger when he’d told her to “keep her personal life out of his office.”

She knew she shouldn’t care. He was her boss. But the way he’d looked at her — with disappointment and something else she couldn’t name — had stayed with her the whole day.

Her fingers brushed the bouquet sitting on the nightstand. The roses were lovely, bright, and soft, but they only reminded her of confusion.

She didn’t understand Lucian Sinclair.

And maybe that was why she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“Why do you hide behind that wall, Lucian?” she whispered to herself.

Her thoughts broke when laughter drifted in from the kitchen.

Alexa was home.

Emma blinked, realizing she hadn’t even noticed the lights on when she came in. Music hummed softly from a small speaker, and the smell of takeout filled the air. Alexa was barefoot, twirling a fork in her hand as she sang along to the music.

“Welcome home, working girl!” she called cheerfully when she saw Emma. “I was starting to think you’d sleep at that office.”

Emma tried to smile, but Alexa caught the weariness in her face immediately.

“Rough day?” Alexa asked, her tone softening.

Emma nodded, setting her bag down. “You could say that.”

“Then you’re just in time for something good,” Alexa said, gesturing grandly to the dining table. It was covered with pizza boxes, Chinese takeout, and a half-open bottle of wine. “Because your favorite cousin just got paid!”

Despite her exhaustion, Emma laughed. “You’re serious?”

Alexa did a playful twirl. “Modeling contract money just hit my account. I’m officially rich — until I pay my bills tomorrow.”

Emma chuckled, shaking her head. “Ma, Pa, Lily, is none of them home?”

Alexa rolled her eyes with a grin. “Nope. All gone. This is our time. You, me, food, and music. End of story.” She pulled out two plates, piling them with noodles, dumplings, and slices of pizza, then handed one to Emma.

Emma sank onto the couch, grateful for the casual chaos. Alexa plopped beside her, letting the music guide her fingers across the table as if conducting an orchestra. The lights dimmed slightly, creating a cozy, safe little bubble that contrasted sharply with the sterile tension of the office.

“You know,” Alexa said, breaking a bite of dumpling in half, “this is exactly how we should celebrate — no worries, no judgments, just… us.”

Emma smiled faintly, taking a sip of sparkling juice. “I needed this more than I realized.”

Alexa’s eyes softened. “I know. You’ve been carrying a lot lately. Work, that… guy, Lucian… all of it. So tonight, forget everything else.”

Emma glanced down at her plate, then up at her cousin. “It’s just… complicated. Everything feels complicated lately. And sometimes, I don’t even know if I’m doing the right thing.”

“Right thing, wrong thing — tonight doesn’t care,” Alexa said with a teasing grin. “Tonight is just food and laughs. And by the way, congratulations to me again. You don’t even know the half of the crazy day I had at the studio.”

Emma laughed, the sound lighter than it had been all day. “I can imagine. Miles probably tried to flirt with you non-stop.”

Alexa snorted. “Every. Single. Time. He thinks he’s subtle, but I see right through him.” She nudged Emma playfully. “I think you’d find it amusing.”

Emma shook her head, smiling softly. “I think I do.”