The penthouse was quiet—or at least, deceptively so. Ariella was in the kitchen, reviewing the final contingency plans for Daniel Royce's next move, when a faint sound made her pause—a click, almost imperceptible. Her heart skipped.
Lucien, standing near the window with his usual watchful intensity, immediately tensed. "What was that?" he asked, voice low, controlled.
Before she could answer, the lights flickered and went out. The sudden darkness was more than a mere inconvenience—it was a warning. Ariella's pulse raced as adrenaline surged through her veins.
"I told you," Lucien murmured, moving toward her, "he won't stop. Not until he tries something… personal."
Ariella didn't respond. She only felt the energy in the room shift, thick and dangerous. The air itself seemed charged, anticipation crawling over her skin.
Suddenly, the doors at the far end of the penthouse burst open. Daniel Royce stepped in, dark and imposing, flanked by two men who looked ready to fight to the death. His expression was pure fury, twisted with obsession.
"You just don't learn," he spat, eyes locking on Ariella. "I warned you. I told you tonight would end badly for you."
Lucien's hand brushed against hers—just a subtle touch—but it was enough to ground her, to remind her she wasn't alone. "Stay behind me," he instructed, voice low and commanding.
Daniel lunged forward, but Lucien was already moving. In a single fluid motion, he intercepted Daniel, twisting his arm behind his back and shoving him into one of the steel support beams. Ariella gasped at the sheer force of it, heart hammering—not just from fear, but from the closeness of Lucien, whose body shielded hers as he maneuvered Daniel away.
"You won't touch her," Lucien growled, dark eyes fixed on Daniel like a predator sizing up prey.
Daniel's sneer faltered, just slightly. "She's mine," he hissed.
"She's not yours," Lucien said quietly, voice low and deadly. "And you'll never make her fear you again."
Ariella stepped forward slightly, compelled despite herself, and Lucien's hand brushed hers again. The electricity between them was undeniable. Her pulse jumped at the touch, a jolt of heat and awareness she could no longer deny.
Daniel struggled, furious, but Lucien's strength was precise, controlled, unrelenting. He pushed Daniel toward the edge of the penthouse, keeping him contained, while Ariella's heart raced with the adrenaline of danger—and the closeness of Lucien's body beside hers.
"You don't understand," Daniel spat, "what she means to me."
Lucien's dark eyes softened just slightly, but his grip never wavered. "I understand perfectly. And she's mine to protect."
The words reverberated through Ariella, sending a shiver down her spine. The danger, the tension, the unspoken desire—all collided in that instant. She realized, terrifyingly, that her awareness of Lucien's presence was far more consuming than Daniel's threat ever could be.
Daniel lunged again, reckless and desperate. Lucien caught him mid-motion, their bodies pressing dangerously close. Ariella's chest tightened, breath catching, as she felt the heat, the strength, and the intensity of Lucien shielding her.
For a heartbeat, time froze. Lucien's gaze locked on hers, dark, smoldering, and impossibly close. Ariella felt herself leaning in, drawn by a force she had spent months denying. Their lips almost brushed—so close she could feel his breath.
"Later," he whispered, low and intimate, almost a command disguised as a promise. "After he's gone."
Ariella nodded, barely breathing, awareness of her own pulse and the heat between them nearly overwhelming. Lucien's hand lingered near hers, grounding her even as the storm of danger raged around them.
With a final shove, Lucien neutralized Daniel, forcing him to the ground and restraining him until authorities arrived. Daniel's furious eyes never left Ariella, but she didn't flinch.
Lucien finally stepped back slightly, and for a moment, Ariella's knees threatened to give out from the mixture of adrenaline, relief, and the undeniable pull she felt toward him.
"You're safe," Lucien said softly, voice low and intimate, the faintest brush of his hand along hers lingering in memory, even after he pulled away.
Ariella exhaled slowly, chest rising and falling rapidly. The danger had passed—for now—but the fire between them had been ignited in ways she couldn't ignore.
Daniel Royce had struck personally—and failed. But in the quiet aftermath, Ariella realized something terrifying and exhilarating: surviving Daniel was one thing, but surviving Lucien… was becoming something far more complicated, far more consuming, and far more dangerous to her heart.