"Hmmm... if only he knew that just a blow from me, no human can easily heal from it." I scoffed as I sighed, shrugging my shoulders and shoving my hair back, trying to fix the mess that devil of Lucian had made when he yanked it. My scalp still burned, wanting more of him where his fingers had pulled. What kind of night was this? I was pulled by blood from just an accident victim. Now I was messed up by a stranger. Just one hell of a night?
I made my way toward the receptionist desk, trying to shake off the weird anger rising inside me. The hospital lobby was too clean, too white, and too bright. It made me uncomfortable. I didn't like hospitals. I only worked in a small local clinic, nothing fancy like this. But that man needed help, and I wasn't about to leave him alone, even going through a tough night.
The receptionist was a middle-aged woman with curly dark hair and glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She looked up with a tired but professional smile.
"You brought in the accident victim, right…. Miss what?" she asked.
"Yes dear…. Miss Natalie," I said, nodding. "He was stuck in the car. Bleeding so badly. And I helped him out. His name's James Carter. His ID is in his wallet. I think he has insurance."
She clicked away on the computer as I stood there awkwardly. "Alright. We'll inform the trauma team. But you'll have to fill out an incident report. Do you mind giving us your full name and phone number, just in case the doctor or family needs to reach you?"
"Uh… sure," I replied, brushing my hands on my jeans. My fingers still smelled like blood.
She passed me a form. I was halfway through writing my last name when I heard it.
A voice.
Not just any voice. It was a familiar voice.
It was deep. Smooth. And confident. The kind of voice that felt like it could touch your skin. I didn't need to look up to know who got that voice. Just hearing it made something twist in my stomach. Not in a good way. It wasn't nerves. It was something darker. Like disgust. Or fear. Or something I didn't have a name for. It made me want to run. How could a stranger get me like this?
I looked up, already irritated. And there he was.
Lucian stood not far away, dressed in his sharp black suit, talking on the phone with his chin lifted slightly. I searched for Mira but she was nowhere to be found. But the way Lucian stood, like the world answered to him, annoyed me. His voice, as smooth as it was, only made the irritation inside me grow.
"Tell Dr. Hernan to review the plans again. I want the private wing finished by next month. There's no room for delay," he said into the phone. His tone was commanding, not loud, but absolute. He didn't need to raise his voice to be heard.
I blinked. Wait. Was he talking about this hospital?
Was this his?
He paused and continued. "Yes. Move the budget allocation. No excuses. We don't have time for anyone dragging their feet. The council inspection comes up next quarter. I want everything in place before then."
That voice. So smooth. So full of control. It made my skin crawl.
I was still staring without knowing why when he turned. Slowly. As if he knew I was watching him.
Even with the phone still pressed to his ear, his eyes were still locked onto mine.
And my whole body reacted.
My chest tightened. My jaw clenched. Something in my blood started to move.
"Quit looking at me, Mr. Man!" I snapped, the words flying out before I could stop them. It came out sharp. Hateful. Like he had offended every nerve in my body just by looking at me. And oh yes, he had offended me by making me act like a whore tonight.
The receptionist gasped. She looked at me like I had just slapped her mother.
"This is… Mr. Lucian Valtoris," she stuttered. Her voice dropped low, almost in a whisper, like she didn't want him to hear. "You might want to take that back. Now."
Lucian Valtoris. That was his surname? Valtoris?
That name hit me like a slap.
I didn't know why, but I hated the name. I hated how it sounded. Like poison wrapped in silk.
"Take care of the patient," I said coldly. "You'll see me tomorrow."
I turned, walking fast, anger boiling in my chest. I didn't want to be there another second. Everything about tonight was wrong. Everything was weird. From the blood, to the woman, to the sex and now this Lucian again who had initiated the sex had the nerve to stare at me like I owed him something.
But then…
His voice came again. Closer.
"Let her be, Kathy," he said, and I froze.
He had read her name tag.
He had walked closer.
I didn't want him behind me. I didn't want to feel anything again. But my heart skipped all the same.
Why did his voice sound familiar? Why did it carry something that made my bones vibrate?
I turned around, full of rage. Ready to spit fire at him.
But the moment I faced him…
He stared.
He didn't speak. Didn't blink.
His phone had been dropped into his pocket. His hands were down by his sides. He looked at me the way someone might look at a ghost. Like a dream that was real and yet impossible.
His eyes.
Blue. But not cold. Not human either. His lips still had traces of dark blood from my slap.
He took another step forward.
His lips parted. His eyes softened. A crease formed between his brows.
And then he whispered that name again.
"Kiara?"