I need to tell you what's in my heart right now, and please don't judge me—you promised you never would. I feel trapped.
Lucius and Killian both want me, and that's as clear as the fact that I want them too. But is it just pure, unstoppable chemistry? My body reacts the second they're near me, and I can't—or won't—hide it. Still, I'd never forgive myself if these five years at the mansion turned into two more permanent scars.
They're both getting married. Knowing the marriages are arranged makes it a little easier. At least right now, neither of them loves their future wives. Hell, Killian hasn't even met his! But I'll still be here, tending the gardens and the flowers, watching them smile as they walk arm in arm with someone else. I don't think I'm ready for that. And that very sadness is what tells me, without a doubt… there's more than just attraction on my side. Damn it. Now I know. I'm falling in love… and I'm in deep, deep trouble here.
And tonight, Lucius wants to talk to me. He ordered me to leave my bedroom door unlocked. It's a clear command, a signal to him. If I obey, I'll get my reward: he'll tell me how he feels. But do I want to hear it? Do I want to get all teary-eyed over the fact that he dreamed about me pregnant beside him? Because here's another truth—when I read that message, when he said, "you were next to me, reading a book, pregnant," that image burned itself into my heart. I think it's permanent.
Killian said goodbye when we got back. He was spending the afternoon with his father—business and a remote meeting with his future father-in-law to set strict rules about Annia, the only daughter of the man who builds warships. Her last name is burned into my brain: Vandereck. She'll be Annia Vandereck Longfield, as if anything could sound more elegant than that. I already hate her… okay, that's not entirely true, but it's going to hurt when I meet her, and everything suggests that's happening soon.
Ursula is still sick in her room. We talked through messages, and she congratulated me on the cabin survey. I already sent my crew to start preparing the ground. I finally found out what the three cloned blondes actually do—they run the purchasing department. Everything goes through them, from the plants and flowers I ordered for the cabin's exterior to a new plane for the Longfields. They're powerful around here.
Night falls and finds me in the tub. I choose an outfit that makes me feel comfortable, something that tells Lucius we're only going to talk tonight. But as I try on everything in this massive closet, I slowly go from serious black tailored pants to a simple, pale pink dress with a modest but loose neckline. I know that if I lean forward or bend down just a little, he'll be able to see my small breasts from his height. Why did I choose this one? Because Lucius turns me on so much, and when he's close, his presence and sensuality hit that part of my body hard. I want him to know it without me having to say a word. Or maybe I just liked the color in the mirror.
I left the door unlocked. I sent Killian a short, clear message: "We can't see each other tonight," with no explanation, just like I promised I'd never give when it comes to his brother. He didn't reply. He must be busy working on things for his Annia Vandereck. Blah, blah, blah. I laugh at my own jealousy, but the thought of him married really messes with me.
I lie down on the bed. Less than ten minutes later… he walks in without knocking. He doesn't even check the lock. He just enters, and that confident, elegant presence of his affects me before he even reaches my side. Then he says:
"Let's talk standing up. Get on your feet."
He doesn't look at me until I obey. Then those dark blue eyes lock onto my mouth. He takes my hand, leans against one of the dressers, pulls my body against his, and kisses me right at the corner of my lips—like he's testing my reaction. I press back lightly and hug him. He breathes hard and says,
"I know everything. About you and my brother. Or at least I think I do. I know him well enough to believe he didn't hide what's been happening this year…"
"The wedding. Yeah, I already know," I said. "But I also told him I don't want to talk about Killian with you."
Lucius understood. He even thanked me for that unwritten rule. He thought it was smart. They both knew what was going on. They had stood in front of their father and admitted they were both pursuing me—that I interested them. While he spoke, he gripped my waist and pulled me hard against him, lower and more obvious each time. There was no doubt what we were doing. We pretended everything was normal while I let him press against me without resistance.
I pulled away, but he grabbed my hand again and pulled me even closer than before. Then he said,
"I want to hear it from your own lips—that you want me more than anyone."
I didn't answer, but I let the tension build. He didn't push further, but he surprised me when he whispered,
"I know you gave him three private dates. I only need one."
The comparison annoyed me, and I stepped back. I made it very clear that was unacceptable. He understood and said something I loved, looking off into the distance with that powerful air:
"Look, little girl, he'll always be my younger brother. We know someone's going to end up hurt in all this. We're Longfields—we can take it. But one thing I'm sure of: neither Killian nor I will let it be you who suffers. You have my word."
Keeping my distance, I smiled and said,
"Let's talk. That's why you came. Let's try, for a moment, to set aside what's obviously happening between us physically and just talk."
He unbuttoned one button on his shirt and started:
"You want to know something I learned? That's what I want to talk to you about. Two years ago, a huge deal disappeared overnight. I'm not lying—it was an acquisition we'd been working on for months. The owner and president of the company died of a stroke just as we were about to close. His son inherited everything and pulled out of the project with no explanation except a note he left in an envelope at the office. It said: 'I am not my father. I have other interests. Personal interests. I'm going to chase them before time runs out.'"
Just like that. Everyone was losing their minds—except me. Inside, I was overflowing with happiness, because that boy—that rebellious son—taught me something money can't buy. He taught me that if two people are completely different, like him and his father, but they act the same, it means one of them isn't being true to their real nature. My father's nature is to win. That doesn't interest me. Mine is to possess, to dominate, to enjoy the game. The result is just something expected…
I asked, "Where are you going with all this?"
"I'm saying that when I dreamed about you beside me, pregnant, I was happy. Of course I didn't want to wake up. You were smiling, putting down your book to take my hand and place it on your perfect, soft belly so I could feel our baby moving. In that dream, someone slid a note under the door, and you told me, 'Open it and read it out loud.' The note said: 'Chase what matters before time runs out.' When I looked back at the bed, you were gone. And that hurt."
Lucius had tears in his eyes when he repeated,
"Little girl… thinking I had lost you… it hurt too much."
It moved me. I wanted to hug him, but this time he stepped back and said,
"My intention wasn't to be romantic. I wanted to talk to you to warn you. You should know I'm going to possess you, little girl. I'm going to dominate you and enjoy every second of the game. You are what matters, and I'm going to chase you while staying true to my nature. One date with you is all I need."
His arrogance and confidence hypnotize me. I didn't know what to say. I needed to buy time, so I sat on the bed, leaning forward. I didn't do it on purpose, but the moment I realized my breasts were visible from his angle, I stayed right there, frozen, staring at his mouth. When he stepped closer and started sliding his hand down my neck, I stopped him and said,
"One date. If we enjoy the game, you'll possess me. If you possess me, you'll dominate me. But I've never been with a man, and if you're going to be my first and get me pregnant at twenty, I'll kill you."
I laughed, but he whispered, his voice thick with desire,
"If I'm going to die for that… then so be it."
I was about to ask if he was joking or serious when his phone rang. He read a message, so I asked,
"Day and time for the date?"
He answered, "It'll be tomorrow. My father just messaged that my brother's fiancée, Annia Vandereck, is coming to dinner at Longfield. He wants us to give her the same treatment as Sarah—and for you to be there too. So the four of us will have dinner. Then we'll take her to the dock… By sunrise, you'll be in my bed, naked on top of me, and I'll hear you say that you love me."