Silent Revenge

Chapter 3

Lucid’s handshake lingered a moment too long, his eyes flicking from Jason’s face to mine.

“So,” Jason said casually, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been looking forward to this partnership. Your company has a remarkable reputation.”

Lucid gave a faint smile. “We’re very selective about who we work with. My father must think highly of you.”

Jason’s lips curved slightly. “He does. And I’m glad to be a part of this though I must admit, I didn’t expect such… familiar company.”

My heart skipped. The words were harmless enough, perfectly neutral to anyone listening but the look he gave me said otherwise. It was brief, fleeting, but Lucid caught it.

I felt his hand slide against the small of my back the same subtle gesture he used in public, except this time, it wasn’t for show. His fingers pressed slightly harder, a silent question, maybe even a warning.

“Familiar?” Lucid echoed smoothly, though I could hear the chill in his tone. “Have you two met before?”

Jason’s eyes didn’t waver. “Once, a long time ago,I think. Your wife left quite an impression.”

Lucid’s lips twitched into a polite smile, but his gaze remained fixed on me. “She tends to do that.”

The air between us grew heavier. Jason turned his attention back to Lucid’s father, shifting the conversation toward business, but I could still feel Lucid watching me silently.

I forced myself to keep smiling, to pretend nothing was wrong.

Lucid wasn’t a man who liked surprises. And Jason’s sudden reappearance was exactly that.

When Jason excused himself a few minutes later, Lucid leaned closer, his breath brushing against my ear.

“Who is he?” he whispered, his voice low and sharp enough to cut through the noise around us.

“Just someone I used to know,” I murmured, keeping my smile fixed, the kind of smile that hides too much. The room was still full of eyes, and I wasn’t about to give anyone a show.

Lucid’s jaw tightened. “Really? He seems more than that,” he hissed, the edge in his voice barely restrained.

I turned slightly, meeting his glare. “Why do you care?” I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

His eyes darkened that familiar look, the one that warned me I’d gone too far.

Before I could react, his hand shot out and caught mine. His grip was firm, not painful, but commanding like always.

“Lucid....” I started, but he didn’t say a word. He pulled me with him, weaving through the crowd with effortless control, his polite smile returning for anyone who greeted us along the way. To them, it looked like a husband leading his wife out for some air.

But I knew better.

He didn’t stop until we reached the side terrace quiet, secluded, the music from the hall muffled behind the tall glass doors. The cool night air hit my skin, and for a moment, I could breathe again.

Then he turned to face me.

“Start talking,” he said, his tone low, dangerous. “Who the hell is Jason Cole to you?”

I crossed my arms, though my hands were trembling slightly. “You’re overreacting. It was years ago. He means nothing now.”

Lucid stepped closer, his gaze searching my face like he was trying to read every flicker of truth or lie. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” I said, but even to my own ears, it sounded too soft.

He let out a humorless laugh, glancing back toward the glowing ballroom. “First your friend, now some man from your past. You really do have a way of keeping secrets, don’t you?”

“That’s rich coming from you,” I snapped before I could stop myself. “You want honesty? Start by giving me the same courtesy.”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes anger, surprise, maybe even guilt. Then it was gone, replaced by that cold, unreadable expression again.

“Careful,” he said quietly, his voice calm in a way that made it worse. “You’re already on thin ice. You know, all of this…” his eyes swept over me, deliberate and slow, “…is mine to protect.”

He studied me for a moment longer, then reached up as if to brush something from my face. His thumb hovered near my mouth but didn’t quite touch. “Red suits you,” he murmured. “I almost didn’t notice before.”

His hand gently raised my dress up as he caress my lap gently making me mourn loudly. He use his other hand to hold my dress in place as his hand lingered on my lap, his touch both deliberate and possessive, sending a shiver through me.My breath caught, and the mournful sound that escaped my lips hung in the space between us. His eyes flickered with something unreadable satisfaction, maybe, as he held my gaze, his fingers still pinning the fabric of my dress.

“Lucid,” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of defiance and unease. “This isn’t the place.”

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unyielding, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, like velvet with a razor’s edge. “You’re my wife. Every place is the place.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding as I tried to steady myself. The area was quiet yes, but the ballroom’s lights still glowed through the glass doors.Anyone could step out here. Anyone could see.

“Stop,” I said, my voice firmer now, though my body betrayed me, rooted to the spot under the weight of his touch. “You’re making a scene.”

His smirk faded, replaced by that cold, piercing look that always made me feel like he could see straight through me. “A scene?” he repeated, his tone deceptively soft. “No, darling. This is me reminding you who you belong to."