Lucien and I keep a lazy pace, our rhythmic footsteps echoing as we walk down the sidewalk. He's more amiable than I thought he'd be. His presence no longer carries a sense of danger—hands hanging loosely from his pants pockets, he spares a glance at me every now and then to flash a small grin. Perhaps he only maintains a cold demeanor around business associates.

"All other endeavors aside, I've never found a business to be more engrossing," he continues to expound, with me nodding at appropriate intervals. "Time warps and then repeats each day, it's truly incredible. Almost as if the market is more of a living thing than I am"

On our short walk I've learned he has ventures in restaurants, fashion, and the stock market, with the latter being his claim to fortune and fame. I won't deny most parts go over my head since his vocabulary jumped into a different universe altogether.

"Hugh started me in blue chips, but since then I've tackled even the most volatile assets. Quite the engrossing game if I do say so myself." Lucien pauses, the contour of his face outlined in a bright white as we approach the parking garage. "But I so love puzzles, the harder the better. At ten years old I mastered chess and haven't stopped challenging myself since."

I nod again, and we enter the first floor of the clunky cement structure. Overhead lights flush out all traces of night, save for the shadows cast from the numerous high-end cars. I haven't been around such expensive things for a while now. A fragment of past conversation swirls in my brain, some reason why Lucien would bring me here, but I can't place my finger on it. I should just ask, but I don't want to offend him and insult his kind gesture by implying he had ulterior motives.

Lucien finishes his explanation of exactly how he plans to climb to even greater heights and stops a few paces away from a sleek, black SUV. It's parked next to a large rectangular pillar and the spot beside it is empty. A glance at the sign posted on the wall affirms the two spots are both reserved under his name. I swivel to face him, wondering why he stopped instead of unlocking the vehicle.

His eyes find mine like the ends of a magnet. "Hanna, I am a forward man." The itching on my cornea, which hasn't entirely gone away, intensifies, and I rub my eyes with the back of my hand. "I want you for myself."

My fist halts mid-rub. Excuse me?

Does he mean what I think he does? I feel like this proves some sort of point, like it verifies something I've thought before, something important, but I can't recall. I open my mouth to utter a harsh and swift rejection, but my thoughts turn fuzzy. My vision goes in and out of focus as I try to register what's happening.

Did he just say something? Nevermind. I shouldn't be here, and not with Lucien of all people...

"Let me rephrase." Lucien's voice echoes briefly around the large, empty space. Part of me wants to go back to how it was, trusting him with ease, but the other part of me is clawing through my lazy subconscious, gasping for air.

"You learn quickly, and that's a valuable asset. I want you to stay employed at my restaurant. In fact, I think there are more opportunities for you in my other businesses should you want them."

I'll pass. Besides the fact I suddenly feel like I'm walking into a field of landmines, that sounds like a lot of work I'm in no way qualified for.

I bring my hands down from my eyes and look past Lucien to the glowing green exit sign and the street beyond it. My chest tightens. The urge to sprint out and hide deep in the dark shadows hits me like a freight train.

I don't want to be alone with him, but I don't know why, either.

"Hanna," Lucien repeats my name.

The word reverberates in my ears like a chorus of ringing chimes. He steps closer. Instinctively I clench my fist and step back, only to be stopped by the cement pillar behind me. His finger presses to his lips, making a hush motion. My tongue sticks to the top of my mouth, and I'm unable to speak a word.

Time for a new plan. Using my thumb, I twist the decorative metal flower off my self-defense ring. If I can expose the sharp point underneath, then get a well-aimed swing at his neck or face, I'll gain a few seconds head start. The possibility of escape is slim, but I have to take it. I don't know what made me walk into this trap with him alone and in the middle of the night, but I have to get out of here. Now.

The friendly smile Lucien wore on our walk here widens and stretches his red-tainted lips. My eyes round, honing in on the sharp fang now glinting under the overhead light. He's purposely showing it off. Why did he of all people have to be born with a sharp canine? My heart races, muscles taut with anticipation to take advantage of the slightest opening.

"Don't be afraid."

Fuck that. Adrenaline might be the only way I can make it to safety. I tear my eyes away just as the rings around his irises radiate with a bright, rich red.

I can't wait any longer.

I force a scream from my throat, simultaneously swinging at his jaw with all my might.

Lucien's hand wraps around mine mid-swing, halting any and all momentum. Incredulous crimson eyes glimmer with unspoken laughter.

"Help! Hel—" My shout is soon stifled by his other hand. I claw at his wrist with my free hand, but it doesn't affect him in the slightest. His hips press hard into mine, digging into my pelvic bone to the point I know I'll get a bruise.

My plan failed epically, and all I can do is stare back at his amused expression. This time I won't let him trick me. I know I'm in trouble, and the only way I can get out is by keeping a straight head. His iron grip holds my wrist against the pillar and clamps my lips shut. I'm boxed in between him and the cement, and strangely enough, I can't tell which is colder.

Whatever he thinks he has over me, I won't show him fear.

I won't bow down like I know he wants me to.

"How interesting." His eyes narrow into slits. "You can struggle all you want, little fawn, but your resistance to Deception will only make this more entertaining."

He draws in a deep breath, then leans in and a violent shiver runs through my body. His stubble brushes my cheek. "I'm sure you taste even better than you smell."

No. Not like this.

I don't want to go like this.

Not at his hands. Not from whatever he's planning to do to me. I have to—

An almost icy exhale causes a rush of goosebumps to rise up my neck and along my shoulder. "The scars from my fangs will be a wonderful addition to your collection, don't you think?"

His thumb brushes lightly over the inside of my wrists.

Every fiber of my being tenses in protest. Any fate, any at all, would be better than letting him get what he wants.

"Let go!" I force the words through his fingers. He lets out a strangled gasp, stumbles backwards, and I don't let a single second go to waste. I don't look back.

I run for my life.

Streetlights blur as I frantically search out the most optimal route. The station is a couple blocks away, but there's a high possibility someone is there. Thing is, will it be a person capable—or willing—to help? My eyes search for the alley, I debate on whether Hugh would still be there with the others, or if it could be a viable hiding place. Whatever the case is, I'm running out of time and need to make up my mind.

A horn blares and headlights blind as I frantically stumble on the pavement out of the way from a speeding car.

A cab.

A cab!

I scramble to regain balance and yank repeatedly on the door handle. "Let me in!"

The driver gives me a suspicious look, but relents and the lock clicks open. I collapse inside, slamming the door behind me and hit every button to lock it again.

"Drive," I gasp out.

"Never know what kind of crazy you'll get," he mutters, and despite his attitude, speeds off down the street.

The tires squeal and I whip my head around, catching Lucien's gaze as he watches us peel away.

He's not even trying to chase me. He's not concerned at all.

I see you, the dark romancers over there rooting for team Lucien. Alas, in this book he's truly the bad guy.

❤️‍🩹 Siberia