I FORGOT HIM BUT MY HEART DIDN'T

Shadows in the Marble

Chapter 3: Shadows in the Marble

The sound of his grip on my arm was the only warning I got before my back hit the cold, unforgiving marble of the pillar.

Lucien stepped in right after me, crowding my space so completely that the world narrowed down to the racing beat of his heart against his chest and the sharp scent of cedarwood suffocating my senses. His large hand came up, hovering over my mouth without quite touching my skin, his fingers trembling with a quiet, lethal tension.

"Don't breathe," he breathed into my ear, his voice lower than a whisper.

Through the slight gap between the pillar and the grand velvet curtains, I watched a long shadow stretch across the polished foyer floor.

Julian Blackwood stepped into the light.

He didn't look like a monster. He looked like old money personified—impeccable gray suit, silver-tipped cane, and a smile that didn't reach his cold, calculating eyes. But the moment his gaze swept the room, the temperature in the mansion seemed to plunge into sub-zero territory.

"Lucien?" Julian’s voice echoed off the high, vaulted ceiling, smooth and dripping with artificial warmth. "Are you hiding from your old uncle? That’s terribly rude, especially when we have so much business to conclude."

Beside me, I felt the muscles in Lucien's chest turn to absolute stone. The vulnerable boy who had just cried over my sketchbook vanished. In his place stood the icy, untouchable billionaire the town feared.

Lucien slowly pulled his hand away from my face, giving me one last warning look that promised death if I made a sound. Then, he stepped out from behind the pillar, his posture rigid and arrogant.

"I don't hide in my own house, Julian," Lucien said, his voice dropping into a flat, dangerous baritone. "And I don't recall inviting you."

Julian chuckled, a low, grating sound as he leaned heavily on his cane. "Ah, but a good businessman doesn't need an invitation when there's profit to be made. I notice a car from the local bookstore is parked near the outer gates. Don't tell me you've started indulging in cheap literature."

My heart stopped. He knew about the bookstore. He knew someone had been here. My hand reflexively clutched the sketchbook tighter against my chest, the cardboard edges biting into my palms.

"The girl was delivering a rare edition I ordered," Lucien replied smoothly, not a single tremor in his voice. "She dropped it off and left before the storm worsened. If her car is still there, she likely walked back to town."

"Is that so?" Julian walked slowly toward the center of the foyer, his eyes scanning the floorboards. He stopped precisely where Lucien and I had been standing moments before. He looked down, adjusting his cuffs with an agonizingly slow precision.

My breath caught. My hands were covered in charcoal dust from my sketches. Had I left a mark? Did I drop something else?

Julian sniffed the air, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Fascinating. I could have sworn I smelled cheap vanilla coffee. The kind the commoners drink." He turned his sharp gaze back to Lucien, his posture dripping with condescension. "You always were a terrible liar, nephew. Just like your father before he succumbed to his own tragic fate."

Lucien’s jaw clenched so hard the bone looked ready to snap through his skin. "Leave my father out of your mouth."

"Then give me what I want, and I'll leave you to your rotting house," Julian snapped, the fake warmth instantly evaporating from his face. He took a step closer to Lucien, raising his silver-tipped cane and pressing the cold metal right against Lucien’s throat.

I choked back a gasp, pressing my hands over my own mouth to keep from screaming. The sheer dominance Julian exuded was suffocating, filling the entire room with an inescapable dread.

Lucien didn't even flinch. He stood perfectly still, his eyes boring into his uncle's with murderous intent, even as the metal cane forced his chin upward.

"The board meeting is tomorrow morning," Julian whispered maliciously, his face inches from Lucien's. "You will sign over the controlling shares of the Blackwood estate to me. If you don't, I will reopen the investigation into the fire from ten years ago. I’ll make sure the police look very closely at the sole survivor who magically walked out without a single scratch on his face."

Julian’s eyes flicked down to Lucien’s sleeves, where the thick, white burn scars were hidden beneath the black silk.

"We both know what you did that night, Lucien," Julian taunted, pressing the cane harder against his throat until it looked painful. "We both know whose fault it was. Sign the papers, or I will destroy whatever little life you have left. And if I find out that little bookstore girl is sniffing around where she doesn't belong... I’ll ensure she meets the same fate as your parents."

The threat hung in the air, heavy, cold, and entirely lethal.

Lucien swallowed, his throat moving against the hard metal of the cane. The silence stretched for an agonizing ten seconds before Lucien finally spoke, his voice completely hollow, stripped of all life.

"The papers will be signed before the board meets."

Julian smiled, a sickening display of absolute triumph. He lowered the cane, tapping it twice against the marble floor with a sharp click. "Good boy. I knew you’d see reason. Enjoy your lonely night in this tomb, nephew."

Without another word, Julian turned on his heel and walked out of the mansion, the heavy oak doors slamming shut behind him, cutting off the wind.

The moment the lock clicked, Lucien staggered backward, hitting the opposite pillar. He let out a ragged, fractured breath, his hand flying to his throat where the cane had been. The icy billionaire facade dropped entirely, leaving him looking exhausted and thoroughly broken.

I rushed out from behind my hiding spot, my heart breaking at the sight of him. "Lucien!"

"Don't touch me!" he growled, flinching away from my outstretched hand. He looked up, his amber eyes wild with a mixture of raw rage and sheer terror. "You heard him, Ava. You heard what he will do."

"He's threatening you! He's blackmailing you!" I shouted over the sound of the rain outside, refusing to let him retreat into his shell. "And what did he mean about the fire? He said you started it, but look at your hands! You tried to save someone! The town is wrong about you!"

"It doesn't matter what I tried to do!" Lucien roared, stepping directly into my space, his chest heaving as the raw emotion exploded out of him. "The only thing that matters is keeping you alive! If he sees that sketchbook if he realizes your memory is trying to come back he will kill you to keep his secrets safe."

He reached out, his fingers stopping just short of gripping my shoulders, his voice breaking into a desperate, agonizing plea that rattled my core.

"Go home, Ava. Forget you ever saw me. Throw that book into the river and never look back. Because the closer you get to me, the closer you get to your own grave."