Not his first choice

Chapter 17

Lucian’s penthouse is dimly lit, the city skyline stretching beyond the massive windows, a breathtaking view she barely registers. Sienna steps inside hesitantly, her pulse thrumming as she hears the soft click of the door shutting behind her.

She shouldn’t be here.

Lucian invited her. No, he insisted. After everything that happened at the club—the tension, the unspoken words, the way he looked at her—she knew this night wouldn’t end the way either of them expected.

“Sienna.” His voice is a low murmur, but it sends a tremor down her spine.

She turns to face him. He’s already undone the top buttons of his shirt, his tie hanging loosely around his collar. His sleeves are pushed up, revealing the sharp lines of his forearms, his stance radiating an intensity that makes it impossible to look away.

“Why did you bring me here, Lucian?” she asks, folding her arms in a weak attempt to create distance.

He steps closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You know why.”

A bitter smile tugs at her lips. “Do I?”

Lucian exhales sharply, as if frustrated. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“You’ve been giving me reasons to.”

His jaw tightens, his gaze flickering over her face. “That’s not what I wanted.”

Sienna scoffs, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter what you wanted, Lucian. You made your choice.”

Silence stretches between them, heavy and charged. She wants to believe she’s strong enough to walk away. That she won’t let herself drown in the pull of him, in the way his presence alone threatens to unravel her. But when he steps closer, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off him, she realizes how much of a lie that is.

“Sienna,” he murmurs, his fingers ghosting over her wrist, barely touching, yet it’s enough to send a spark through her veins. “Tell me you don’t feel this.”

She clenches her jaw, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”

His grip tightens ever so slightly. “It does to me.”

She hates him for that—for making her hope, for making her want what she can never have. But more than anything, she hates that despite everything, she still wants him.

Lucian watches her, his expression raw, conflicted. And then, before she can think, before she can stop herself, she closes the space between them.

And everything unravels.

He pulls her flush against him, his grip firm yet reverent, as if he’s been starving for this—starving for her. The moment their lips meet, it’s fire and fury, a clash of emotions that have been simmering for far too long. His hands slide up her back, threading into her hair as he deepens the kiss, his breath warm, demanding, desperate.

Sienna moans softly into his mouth, her fingers fisting his shirt as he walks her backward, pressing her against the cool glass of the window. The contrast between the cold surface and the heat of his body sends a shiver through her, making her gasp.

Lucian doesn’t hesitate. His lips trace a path down her jaw, to the column of her throat, where he lingers, his breath hot against her skin. “You drive me insane,” he murmurs, his voice rough with restraint. “Do you know that?”

Her fingers tremble as they slide up his chest. “Then why did you choose her?”

He stills, his grip on her tightening. For a moment, she thinks he won’t answer, but then he pulls back just enough to look at her. His expression is raw, conflicted, his eyes searching hers for something—permission, forgiveness, something she’s not sure she can give.

“I thought it was the right thing, she's supposed to be the best option, the logical one” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought it would be easier.”

A bitter laugh escapes her. “And is it?”

Lucian closes his eyes for a brief moment before shaking his head. “No.”

Sienna swallows hard, her heart hammering in her chest. “Then why are you still doing this?”

His hands frame her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “Because I can’t stop and that's what's scary this is scary, he points between us his eyes filled with confusion and a mix of other emotions.

She exhales shakily, her resolve crumbling. His confession is a knife to her chest, cutting deep, but the way he’s looking at her—like she’s the only thing that makes sense—makes it impossible to pull away.

“Lucian…”

He silences her with a kiss, slow this time, lingering, as if trying to commit the taste of her to memory. “Stay, I want you to stay" he murmurs against her lips.

Sienna’s breath catches. The word hangs between them, weighted with meaning, with everything they’ve left unsaid. And for a moment, she wants to say yes, she wanted this, for a moment she wanted to forget about reality and just be with him, she wants to lose herself in him, to let him make her forget all the reasons why this is wrong.

But she can’t. Because at the end of the day, he still belongs to someone else, he still wears another woman's engagement ring, he's still going to call another woman "his wife".

She gently pushes against his chest, and he lets her go, though reluctance lingers in his touch. Their gazes lock, the air between them thick with longing, with everything they both want but can’t have.

“I have to go,” she whispers.

Lucian’s jaw tenses, but he nods. “Sienna—”

She shakes her head. “Don’t.”

He watches her, his hands clenching at his sides as if restraining himself from pulling her back. And then, with one last lingering glance, she turns and walks away, leaving him standing there, alone, with nothing but the ghost of her warmth and the weight of what could have been.