LINES WE SHOULDN'T CROSS
Sleep didn't come.
Elara lay awake in the unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word Lucien had said. Every look. Every unspoken threat wrapped in silk and authority.
A soft knock sounded.
Her heart skipped.
She sat up. "Come in."
The door opened slowly.
Lucien stepped inside, no tie, sleeves rolled up. The CEO armor was gone—just a man standing in the dim light of the city.
"You forgot to lock your door," he said.
"I wasn't expecting company," she replied.
He closed the door behind him—not locked, just… shut.
Silence stretched again. Thick. Charged.
"You're nervous," he observed.
"You're in my room."
"Technically," he said calmly, "it's my penthouse."
She rolled her eyes. "Figures."
Lucien moved closer, stopping at the foot of the bed.
"You surprised me today," he said quietly.
"How?"
"You didn't beg."
Elara laughed softly. "You don't deserve that."
Something shifted in his gaze.
"You don't act like someone who has nothing to lose," he murmured.
She stood, meeting his eyes. "Because I already lost everything once."
For a second, the city disappeared.
Lucien lifted his hand slowly, stopping inches from her face—waiting. Asking without words.
Elara swallowed… but didn't step back.
His fingers brushed her cheek—gentle, careful, almost reverent.
Her breath caught.
"This is a mistake," she whispered.
"Most powerful things are," he replied.
He leaned in—not to kiss her, not yet—just close enough that their foreheads almost touched.
Electricity surged between them.
"You're dangerous," she said.
"So are you," he answered.
Her hands clenched at her sides. "We said no feelings."
"I'm not talking about feelings."
Lucien's thumb traced her jaw slowly. The touch burned—soft but claiming.
For a moment, Elara forgot the contract.
Forgot Serena.
Forgot the office.
Forgot the rules.
She leaned forward—just a fraction.
Their breaths mixed.
Lucien froze.
Then he stepped back abruptly.
"No," he said hoarsely. "Not like this."
Confusion flashed across her face.
"You started this."
"And I'm ending it," he replied. "Before we destroy each other."
Silence slammed down between them.
Lucien turned to leave.
At the door, he paused.
"Don't make me regret marrying you," he said quietly.
Then he was gone.
Elara collapsed onto the bed, hand pressed to her racing heart.
They hadn't kissed.
They hadn't touched… really.
But it felt worse.
Because now she knew—
Lucien Blackwood wasn't just her husband.
He was her weakness.
And that was the most dangerous thing of all. 🔥