LOGINLucien“Hi.”Lucien turned, with a glass in his hand, a smile lighting up his eyes briefly when he saw Eveline standing by the kitchen door. She was wearing his clothes, had bed hair, and looked very adorable. “Couldn’t sleep either?” She asked, walking in. “I spent the last hour staring at the ceiling and counting imaginary sheep. I don’t know which children's bedtime story said it’d work, but I need to have a word with the author because it’s never worked for me.”“The trick is to keep counting until you fall asleep,” he murmured, turning his head the other way to watch her as she walked to the cabinet. Fuck. She was so pretty. So fucking gorgeous. And her, walking around in nothing but his shirt that stopped pretty high on her thighs, wasn’t doing good for the thoughts he’d been brooding over. Eveline glanced over her shoulder as she opened a cabinet door. She arched her brow—calling his bluff without saying anything. “Did it work for you?”He laughed softly. “I stopped counting
Eveline Dinner at Lucien’s house was one thing. But she was seated across from him in an expensive restaurant that looked like it typically got booked months ahead…And to top that, he was looking a little too handsome for her to focus on the food in front of her. Plus, he hadn’t said anything for the entire thirty minutes they’d been sitting down. “Okay, fine.” Eveline dropped her spoon and folded her arms. “I give up.”Lucien looked worried immediately. “Is something wrong with the food? Do you want to order something else? A different bottle of wine? White instead of—“Waitttt—” she stopped his rambling, holding up a hand, laughing at how slightly nervous he looked. Lucien Roswood didn’t get nervous about anything. “I didn’t say the food was bad. In fact, I think it’s amazing. And I’m sure the bottle of wine, with a name I’ll butcher if I try to pronounce it, costs as much as it tastes.”He nodded slowly, his brows furrowed. “You said you give up.”“Yup,” she nodded. It was her t
Lucien Patrick slid an envelope over to Lucien, his baseball cap pulled low over his face as usual. He sighed as he leaned back, his fingers crossed and his palms touching like he was praying. Then he shook his head. “Someone should take him out. I know you want to do this by the law—“The law?” Lucien arched a brow as he opened the envelope, taking out the document inside. He looked at Patrick. “Who said anything about the law?”“Really?”Patrick leaned closer, glancing around suspiciously, before turning back. He cupped his mouth, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I know someone. He does a clean job. It’s in and out—unless you want to make it look like an accident. Nobody’s going to trace it back to you.”Lucien’s second brow joined the first one. “A hitman?”“Eh,” Patrick wriggled his hand. “I wouldn’t use that word. Besides, he likes to call himself the,” he glances around again, “The Caretaker. He handles everything cleanly. You won’t find a single spec of DNA.”Lucien sat back
Eveline Eveline staggered back into the house, her pupils wide and her lips refusing to close. Shane looked like hell—his shirt was wide open, his chin was completely covered with a thick, unruly beard, and his hair was matted. “You didn’t come to see me,” he hissed, taking slow steps towards her. His eyes were bloodshot, and she could smell the booze on his breath. When did he get out of jail? Did Gerald finally find the right string to pull? “Me!” He slammed his chest with his hand as his mouth curled into a frightening smile. “Your fiancé! You let me rot in that…in that—” he pointed over his shoulder, jabbing his finger in the air. “Place,” he spat. “What were you doing while I was away?” He demanded. “Fucking other men? Huh? Did you bring them here? Is that why you wouldn’t share a room with me? Because you wanted to bring men over so you could fuck them?!” The veins bulged across his face as he raged, shaking his fist at her. Eveline felt cold sweat trickle down
“B-Belinda?”Eveline stood in her doorway, shock written all over her face. The nurse was the last person she expected to see on a Sunday morning.Belinda smiled warmly at her. “I know, I know. I dropped by unannounced. But—” she held up a bag that smelled amazing, her smile widening. “I made garlic bread and some soup, and I had a lot leftover. I thought I’d put some meat on your bones.”Eveline laughed softly, stepping aside so she could come in. She heard Belinda’s gasp of awe as she walked in, closing the door gently behind her. “Your house is gorgeous,” the other woman gushed, stopping in the foyer. “Gerald did all this, didn’t he?”There was something in her tone that told Eveline it was more a confirmation than a question. She nodded. “Yeah.”“I see,” Belinda said quietly, with a softer sigh. Then she smiled, lifting the bag. “I should unload this. The soup goes in the fridge, so…” she was already walking away, leaving Eveline to catch up so she could lead her to the kitchen. T
Lucien Hours earlierLucien reached out to brush a frazzled lock of hair from her face, his fingertips grazing her cheek. His chest tightened, even as warmth curled to his toes. When she mumbled something and snuggled closer to him, he almost abandoned the exit plan he’d been thinking about so he could hold her longer. It wasn’t ever easy leaving after, but this time around, it felt different. Something had changed in the way he kissed her—the way she held on to him. And the fact that they were in her bedroom—the only place in the house where he could smell her everywhere. Her arm was thrown carelessly over his waist, and her head snuggled against his chest. He could feel her breath on his skin, sliding underneath the layers and flooding his veins. Maybe he could stay for a few hours. There was no harm in making her breakfast. Shane was still behind bars, and as long as Gerald or Mary didn’t have a key to the house, he wouldn’t have to explain what he was doing there. Actually
Eveline wasn’t sure how she got from the bar to this spacious, luxury high-rise apartment with the glass walls that overlooked the city’s skylight. But the stranger standing in front of her was looking at her like he wanted to devour her whole. “Something tells me this isn’t something you do on
Eveline The key turned with a muffled click, a sound drowned by the one that stopped Eveline cold in the foyer. It wasn’t the television as she’d thought. It was a low, rhythmic wet sound, punctuated by a sharp guttural gasp she knew intimately. His gasp. Her overnight bag slipped from her numb
Eveline Belinda pulled Eveline into a storage room, closing the door with a soft thud. She placed a finger to her lips before Eveline could speak. “Shh.” She opened the door again, a small crack, peeped through, and closed it slowly so that it wouldn’t make the slightest noise. Then she sighe
“Miss Storm.” Eveline stood rooted to the spot as he walked into the room, a polite smile on his lips. He walked over to her, stretching out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Roswood. I’ll be handling your father’s case.” She couldn’t say a word. Her lips wouldn’t move and her brain wen







