CHAPTER SIX: UNSAID THINGS
1042 Words
The morning light peeked through the blinds, pale and reluctant, as if even the sun was unsure how to rise on a house so full of quiet tension.
Ariella lay in bed, eyes wide open.
She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his—dark, intense, lingering far longer than they should’ve. She turned over for the third time, her sheets a tangled mess. Her body still buzzed with something unnamed. Something she wished she could unfeel.
It was just a look, she told herself. You walked in on something private. That’s all. He didn’t mean to stare.
But deep down, she knew that wasn’t true.
Lucian’s gaze had been deliberate. Lingering. Hot.
And she… she hadn’t hated it.
With a groan, she sat up and dragged her fingers through her hair. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered the way her top had clung to her last night. She hadn’t meant for anyone to see her like that. It was just her sleepwear, the same thing she wore every night.
But this time, it had mattered.
This time, he had seen.
She quickly pulled on a hoodie, its soft cotton shielding her like armor, and slipped into a pair of jeans. No makeup. Hair loosely tied. Maybe if she looked normal, she’d feel normal.
Maybe if she acted normal, this thing would die on its own.
Downstairs, Lucian sat at the head of the dining table, already dressed for the day. A crisp black shirt. No tie. Sleeves rolled up just slightly.
He didn’t touch his food.
His fingers toyed with the handle of his coffee mug, his jaw tense, his eyes fixed on the edge of the newspaper folded neatly in front of him—but unread.
The scent of eggs and toast filled the room, but all he could think about was the girl upstairs.
No. Not a girl.
Ariella.
She was soft and sharp at the same time. Innocent, but with this quiet presence that had started to creep into spaces of his mind, he hadn’t even realized were vulnerable.
And last night...
That damned top.
He hadn’t meant to look. Not like that. But once he had, he couldn't unsee it. The soft curve of her breasts. The outline of her n*****s through the fabric. The startled look in her eyes.
She hadn’t even tried to cover up. She hadn’t known she needed to.
Because she hadn’t meant to be seen.
And that made it worse.
Susan’s footsteps tapped down the stairs just before she appeared in the room, radiant in a silk robe and already on a call.
She ended it with a smile, tossed her phone onto the counter, and leaned over to kiss Lucian’s cheek. “Morning, babe.”
“Morning,” he replied, voice rough.
“You didn’t sleep well?”
He shrugged. “I’m fine.”
She poured herself coffee, humming, and opened the fridge. “I told the driver to be ready early. I’ve got two meetings back-to-back today. Might be late again tonight.”
He didn’t respond.
Susan continued, cheerful and light. “Hey—do you remember the marketing gala next weekend? You said you'd go with me.”
Lucian gave a nod, barely listening.
The stairs creaked softly again.
Both turned.
Ariella stood near the foot of the staircase, hands in the front pocket of her hoodie. Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun, strands falling around her face. She looked tired. Guarded.
“Good morning,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Morning, sweetheart!” Susan chirped, motioning toward the food. “Come eat before it gets cold.”
Lucian didn’t speak.
Ariella felt his gaze before she saw it. When she finally dared to glance in his direction, she found him watching her—subtly, like he didn’t want to be caught, but not hiding it either.
She sat down slowly at the table, heart pounding harder than it should’ve.
Susan dove into conversation. “So, Ariella, I was thinking—you should start checking out some college programs this week. I have a few brochures upstairs. What are you thinking of studying again?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Ariella mumbled, reaching for the juice.
Lucian’s voice was low but present. “You’re good with books. Literature, maybe?”
Ariella’s hand faltered. The glass tilted, and a splash of juice spilled across the table.
“Oh—” she gasped, reaching for a napkin.
Lucian was faster. He passed her one, their fingers brushing. She pulled her hand back as if burned.
“Thanks,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes.
Susan didn’t notice. She was too busy scrolling through her phone again. “Ooh, this brand wants to fly me to Lagos for a weekend shoot. Maybe I’ll take it. You guys will be fine here without me for two days, right?”
Lucian said nothing.
Ariella swallowed.
Susan smiled, oblivious. “I’ll leave you two to bond.”
The words sank into the air like stones into water.
Ariella rose from her seat a little too quickly. “I—um—I’m done. Thanks for breakfast.”
“You barely touched it!” Susan laughed.
“I’m not really hungry.”
She hurried up the stairs.
Lucian watched her go. His fingers were clenched around the handle of his mug, knuckles whitening.
When the sound of her footsteps disappeared, he finally exhaled.
Ariella shut her door and pressed her back to it, letting her head fall against the wood.
Her heart was racing.
Her stomach churned.
This is not happening.
But it was.
It had started last night—with a look. And it was continuing now, with silent glances and shivers that had nothing to do with the cold.
Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her face.
She didn’t know what scared her more—Lucian’s attention… or the fact that a part of her wanted it.
Downstairs, Lucian stared at the seat she’d just vacated.
Susan leaned over and kissed his cheek again. “Don’t forget to pick up my dry cleaning later?”
He nodded.
But his eyes remained distant.
And the silence inside him said everything he wouldn’t dare admit.
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