My knees trembled as I stepped into the narrow corridor, relying on the cold wall to keep me upright.
The heat of their presence still burned on my skin, making my pulse race out of control.
Lucian bought Conrad’s debts.
The realization hit me like a physical blow.
Conrad thought he was luring in billionaire investors to save his sinking business, unaware he had opened his front door to the men who controlled his entire life.
And now, they were moving into this house, watching my every move, demanding every debt they believed I owed them.
I pressed my palms against my face to steady my shaking hands.
I couldn’t break down now.
I had to get the ice, return to the drawing room, and play the obedient stepsister until I could find another chance to crack Conrad’s desk drawer.
I filled the crystal bucket with ice in the pantry and headed toward the heavy oak doors of the drawing room.
Conrad was pacing in front of the fireplace, his face flushed red from whiskey and growing irritation.
He spun around the moment the doors opened.
“What took you so long, Lyra?” he barked, snatching the ice bucket so roughly that several cubes spilled onto the rug.
“You’re completely useless.” I kept my head bowed, stepping back into the shadows.
“I’m sorry, Conrad.” “Ignore her, Conrad,” Shawn said smoothly from the sofa, swirling his glass as his dark eyes tracked my movement.
“We’re far more interested in your financial records than your domestic help.” Conrad cleared his throat, adjusting his tie.
“Right.
As I was saying, gentlemen, if we sign tonight, my team can have the logistics transfer ready by tomorrow morning.” Lucian set his glass down with a sharp clink.
“There’s no need to rush, Conrad.
My associates and I will be staying here at Crestwood for the next few days to conduct a thorough audit.” Conrad froze, caught off guard.
“Staying here?” “Is that a problem?” Vin asked from the doorway, his massive frame blocking the light as his deep voice carried an edge that made Conrad’s jaw tighten.
“No, of course not,” Conrad stammered, forcing a stiff smile.
“The entire east wing guest suite is available.” He turned his bitter gaze onto me.
“Lyra, go up to the east wing immediately.
Prepare the master suite, make sure the linens are fresh, and stay awake until our guests require anything else.” Lucian’s slate-grey eyes flicked to mine, a slow spark flashing in their dark depths.
“Yes, Lyra,” he murmured softly.
“Make sure everything is…
thoroughly prepared.” I hurried out without another word, my heart hammering against my ribs.
By midnight, the storm outside turned violent.
Heavy rain battered the windows of the east wing, and lightning flashed across the dark hallways.
The east wing had been locked up for months, cold, quiet, and far removed from the main quarters.
I carried fresh cotton linens into the master suite, setting them on the large bed.
My hands shook so hard I could barely smooth out the fabric over the mattress.
Every instinct in my body was screaming at me to run far away from this estate.
I needed to get down to Conrad’s private study, find the hidden medical ledger proving he poisoned my mother, and get out of this town before everything imploded.
But with Lucian, Vin, and Shawn occupying the east wing, the entire mansion felt like a live landmine.
One wrong move, and my secret, the selfless sacrifice I made five years ago to keep Lucian alive, would shatter into pieces.
The heavy oak door behind me clicked shut.
I spun around, clutching a folded towel against my chest.
Lucian stood at the entrance, turning the heavy brass key in the lock until it clicked.
He had removed his suit jacket, unbuttoning his white shirt to reveal his throat, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
Behind him, Vin leaned his broad shoulders against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on me like a predator.
Shawn strolled over to the armchair near the fireplace, sinking into it with lazy grace.
“Conrad told me to prepare the room,” I whispered, backing up against the high wooden dresser.
“Conrad doesn’t command this room, Lyra,” Lucian said softly, his voice a low purr.
“You’re in our domain now.” He closed the distance between us in three long strides.
Before I could move away, his hands reached out, gripping my waist and lifting me effortlessly onto the high edge of the dresser beside the bed.
I gasped, my hands flying up to rest against his chest.
His shirt was thin enough that I could feel the steady thud of his heart underneath my palms, the heart I had sacrificed my freedom to save five years ago.
Lucian stepped between my knees, forcing my legs to part slightly to accommodate his broad frame.
The heat coming off him was suffocating, thick with the scent of rain, cedar, and pure authority.
“Look at me, Lyra,” he commanded softly.
I looked up into his cold, storm-grey eyes.
“Five years ago, you walked out of my life without a word,” Lucian whispered, his forehead almost touching mine.
“You let your stepbrother hand us a forged letter saying you took ten million dollars and ran.
Do you know what it felt like to wake up in a hospital room, looking for you, only to find out you traded us for cash?” Tears burned behind my eyelids.
I didn’t trade you, my mind screamed.
I gave him my life so he would give the doctors the medicine to save you.
“Lucian…
please,” I choked out, my fingers tightening against his shirt.
“Please what?” Lucian murmured, his mouth trailing down my jawline, sliding over the sensitive skin of my neck.
A sharp shiver rushed down my spine.
“Please stop?
Or tell me why you’re trembling under my hands?” Vin moved from the wall, his heavy footsteps sounding on the floorboards.
He stopped beside the dresser, his huge hand cupping the back of my neck.
His fingers tangled gently into my hair, holding my head still as Lucian’s lips brushed the pulse hammering in my throat.
“You belong in this house because we bought every single piece of it, Lyra,” Vin rumbled against my ear, his deep voice sending electric waves through my blood.
“You thought you were Conrad’s helpless prisoner.
But starting tonight, you answer strictly to us.” Shawn leaned back in his chair, watching us with a dark, satisfied smirk.
Before I could utter a single word of protest, a heavy, sharp knock rattled the locked bedroom door from the hallway outside.
“Lyra!” Conrad’s irritated voice barked through the thick wood.
“Are you done in there?
I need you downstairs right now!” Lucian didn’t even flinch.
He simply smirked against my lips, his hand tightening around my waist, keeping me pinned against his body in the dark.