Chapter 7: The Second Thread

Lucian's POV

She took the guest room at the end of my hall and shut the door.

I stood outside it for longer than I should have.

The bond told me she was awake.

It told me she was not crying, and it told me she wanted to.

It told me, very quietly, that she did not trust me.

She was right not to.

I went down to my study and poured a glass of blood I did not want.

The monitors were still on the desk where I had left them.

Three screens, all showing the Gilt Room's private lounge.

I had paid for those too.

I had sat in suite 4012 with the sound on, watching Tristan flip his key and watching Margo's face when Bridget took her hand.

I had known exactly what would happen to her.

I could have walked down forty floors and stopped it.

I had not, because a woman who is shocked by a humiliation in front of forty phones will go anywhere to get away from it.

That was my plan.

I had been very proud of my plan, until I watched her smile.

She had smiled at them.

She had smelled the lie and smiled and said, fine, I'll draw one too.

Nobody had ever answered one of my traps by smiling at it.

I turned off the screens.

The door opened behind me, and I felt her before I saw her.

She stood in the doorway in one of my shirts, which the housekeeper had left in her room by mistake.

I should have said so.

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