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Lucian shoved the last of his clothes into the bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he turned to Clara one final time. His eyes were cold, voice sharper than a blade.
"As of this moment, you are no longer my fiancée. This relationship is over. I should have ended it long ago. You disgust me. Every word, every look… even your face makes me sick."
He walked out without a backward glance.
"Lucian! You can't do this to me!" Clara screamed, tears streaming down her face. But his footsteps never faltered.
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Lucian's POV
He strode to the reception desk. "Do you have any rooms available?"
"Yes, sir. Room 3100. One million."
"I'll take it." He swiped his card, grabbed the key, and without wasting a second, headed upstairs.
Once inside, he tossed his bag down and immediately pulled out his phone. Dialing Cherry's number, he waited.
"Hello, Daddy!" Cherry's sweet voice answered.
"Hello, my love. Are you still at the game center?"
"Yes! We're gonna be late. It's really cool here!"
Lucian smiled faintly. "Good. I need a favor, sweetheart. Can you tell me your mom's room number?"
"Mom's? Isn't she with you?"
"She's… angry with me. I want to apologize. Please, just tell me."
A pause. Then Cherry recited the room number.
"Thank you, my love. I'll see you later."
Hanging up, he wasted no time rushing to Mirabel's door.
When she opened it, her swollen eyes told him everything. She'd been crying—hard. Before she could speak, he swept her into his arms and carried her inside, shutting the door firmly behind them.
She buried her face into his neck, voice trembling. "I'm sorry… I caused trouble between you and your fiancée. Pain you didn't deserve."
"Don't you dare apologize." His grip tightened. "I already ended things with her. And don't call her my fiancée again. She never was—not truly."
"What?" Mirabel lifted her head, searching his eyes. Fear flickered in hers—the fear that he might be like her father.
Lucian caught it instantly. "Listen to me. I'll explain everything."
So he did. The hollow arrangement. The pressure from his parents. The fact that he had never loved Clara—not once.
Relief washed over her face as she exhaled shakily.
"So you don't love her?"
He shook his head.
"You only used her to silence your parents after I rejected you?"
Another nod.
Tears welled again, but this time with relief. "Oh, thank God. I thought… I thought you'd fallen for her. I was ready to break your engagement myself."
Lucian chuckled softly, holding her tighter. "That's the Mirabel I know."
She suddenly grew aware of their closeness—her body cradled in his arms, her face pressed against his chest. She squirmed slightly. "Put me down, Lucian."
"I like holding you." His smirk deepened.
"Lucy…" she pouted, cheeks flushed.
"I'm still not putting you down." His voice dropped lower, teasing, heated.
Carrying her to the bed, he laid her down gently.
"Lucy, what are you doing?" Her breath hitched as he loosened his tie, his gaze dark and hungry.
"What do you think?" he murmured, eyes locked on her. "You've been calling my name, looking at me with those eyes… You've been tempting me without even realizing it. Do you know how hard it's been holding back?"
Her heart raced.
His voice deepened into a growl. "Seven years, Mirabel. Seven years since we last made love."
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TO BE CONTINUED…
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