Chapter 13: Something They’ve Denied
989 Words
Elise didn’t let go.
Wrapped in Luis’s arms, she clung to the quiet—grateful for something solid, something warm. His heart thundered against her cheek. For a moment, it felt like the only steady rhythm in her unraveling world.
Luis had buried this longing for so long, he didn’t recognize it at first.
Her breath warmed the side of his neck, and then she shifted—tilting her face upward. Her cheek brushed his jaw. He didn’t move.
She looked at him.
He couldn’t breathe.
And then she was closer. Her lips, just a breath from his.
The first kiss was hesitant.
A whisper of something they'd never dared name.
But the second came with hunger—built on every stolen glance, every restrained touch, every sleepless night when she lingered in his mind.
Luis’s hand tangled gently in her hair, deepening the kiss until her breath caught against his lips. His control faltered. He pulled her tighter, lifting her into his arms as if it were instinct—like he’d carried her in dreams a thousand times.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders.
Their mouths found each other again, desperate, slow, consuming.
He laid her on the bed, the world narrowing to only her.
The white robe she wore loosened with a tug. She didn’t stop him. Instead, she looked at him like she was finally allowing herself to be seen—not as the empire, but as the woman.
His breath caught in his throat.
She was beautiful. Strong, vulnerable. A contradiction of fire and fragility.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers, trembling.
She shook her head.
Her hands pulled him closer.
“I want this,” she breathed.
And then silence fell between them—but it was the kind that didn’t need words. Only touch. Only truth.
Luis swallowed hard, his fingertips grazing the soft hollow of her waist as the robe parted. Her skin was warm, smooth beneath his touch.
He paused—letting himself see her, really see her.
Not Elise Cruz, the unshakable woman in power.
But Elise—flesh and breath and need.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered.
“I’m tired of pretending I’m not scared,” she murmured, her fingers curling around the collar of his shirt. “But right now... I just want to feel something real.”
He kissed her again. Slower. More reverent. Like a prayer he didn’t know he’d been saving for her.
Their hands moved with growing urgency, clothes falling away with soft sounds between kisses.
And when he finally joined her in the quiet hush of the sheets, she welcomed him without hesitation—like a truth they both had been waiting to admit.
The city beyond the windows kept burning, but here, for the first time in a long time, they let themselves burn too.
Together.
The room was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the distant echo of guards exchanging updates over the estate’s comms.
Elise lay still, her white robe draped loosely over her bare skin, now slightly wrinkled. Her hair was tousled, her lips parted as she tried to steady her breathing. The storm inside her hadn’t passed—it had merely changed form.
Luis sat beside her on the edge of the bed, shirt half-buttoned, hands resting on his thighs as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.
Neither of them spoke right away.
Then Elise, eyes open but unfocused, whispered, “Do you regret it?”
He turned his head slowly to look at her. “No.”
She nodded, barely. “Good.”
Luis exhaled. “But I can’t pretend this was... simple.”
“It wasn’t,” she said. “Nothing about us ever is.”
Silence again. He glanced at her hands—still trembling slightly, though steadier than before.
“I needed that,” she admitted. Her voice was quiet, stripped of her usual command. “I didn’t want to feel like I was breaking alone.”
Luis reached out and gently took her hand. “You’re not.”
They sat like that for a moment—connected, but unsure what came next.
Then Elise sat up, gathering the robe around her. “I still have an empire to run. A target on my back. And now someone’s dead because they were sitting in the driver’s seat instead of me.”
Luis frowned. “Don’t do that. That wasn’t your fault.”
“But it was meant for me,” she said, locking eyes with him. “You know it. I know it.”
The air between them turned heavier.
Luis stood and adjusted his shirt. “We’ll find the pawn. And if Adrian really is alive—”
“He’s not,” she cut in.
He looked at her, surprised.
“I want him to be,” she said, “because then I can kill him myself. But he’s not. This is someone else… and they know my life better than they should.”
Luis nodded slowly. “Then we tighten the circle. No one gets near you unless I say so. Not even your most trusted.”
“And Ethan?” she asked.
Luis hesitated. “He’s loyal. He just… feels too much.”
Elise tilted her head. “You’re one to talk.”
Luis gave a small smile, then stepped toward the door. “Rest tonight. I’ll be outside your room.”
She called out softly before he could leave, “Luis.”
He paused.
“Do you think we’ll survive this?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Then: “If you fall, I fall with you.”
And he left.
Elise stared at the closed door for a long time, heart heavy but steadier. The fear hadn’t vanished. The threat was still real. But for the first time in weeks… she didn’t feel alone.
- Writer
