Chapter 14 – Treading Dangerous Waters

AURORA

The room felt too small.

Aurora's pulse drummed against her ribs, her skin tingling where Lucian's fingers had barely touched her. His presence was a living, breathing thing, swallowing the space between them whole.

She should move.

She didn't.

Her breath hitched as he leaned in, his voice a low rasp against her ear.

"You're not afraid of me."

It wasn't a question.

Aurora's nails pressed into the velvet armrest, her heartbeat a chaotic mess.

Should she be?

Lucian was a man who killed without hesitation. A man who made bodies disappear as easily as others erased pencil marks on a page.

And yet—

She exhaled slowly, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.

"No."

Lucian's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Amusement? Annoyance?

Satisfaction?

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "You should be."

Aurora swallowed.

Maybe she should.

But the truth settled deep in her bones, unwavering.

Lucian Vale wouldn't hurt her.

Not physically.

Not in the way that mattered.

But the way he looked at her? The way his words curled around her like smoke, laced with something dark and sharp?

That was a different kind of danger.

And she was already drowning in it.

Lucian's gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second. Barely noticeable.

But she noticed.

She was certain he did, too.

His voice dropped even lower. "Say it again."

Aurora's throat went dry.

The intensity in his tone sent a pulse of heat through her stomach, coiling tight. She forced herself to breathe evenly, to keep her expression unreadable.

"I'm not afraid of you."

Silence.

Lucian's thumb brushed the edge of the armrest, so close to her skin she felt the heat of it.

Another test.

Another game.

His lips parted slightly—like he was going to say something—but then his phone buzzed in his pocket.

A sharp noise in the quiet tension.

Lucian exhaled through his nose. He didn't move immediately, lingering for a second longer than necessary before pulling away.

The absence of his proximity left her colder than she cared to admit.

He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening.

His expression turned unreadable.

Aurora studied him.

She had only known Lucian for a short time, but she was already learning the nuances of his silence.

The slight shifts in his gaze. The way his body stiffened when something didn't sit right with him.

She wasn't sure why she spoke, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

"Bad news?"

Lucian's eyes flicked to hers, unreadable. "Something like that."

Then, softer—almost as an afterthought—he added, "I have to go."

Aurora should have been relieved.

But the moment he stepped away, she felt the loss of his presence like a sudden drop in temperature.

And she hated it.

Hated how quickly he had wrapped himself around her world, how easily he made her forget that she was supposed to be alone.

Lucian reached the door, but before he left, he turned.

A long, lingering look.

And then—

"I'll see you soon, Aurora."

It wasn't a request.

It was a promise.

---

LUCIAN

The moment he stepped outside, Lucian's calm cracked.

He strode toward his car, slipping into the driver's seat as he checked his phone again.

One missed call.

No message.

But he didn't need one.

He already knew who it was.

Lucian exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary.

He had cleaned up Graham's mess with the kind of precision that left no traces. There was no reason for it to come back to him.

Unless someone was digging where they shouldn't.

His lips pressed into a thin line.

There was always someone.

Lucian started the car, the deep hum of the engine grounding him.

For years, his life had followed a clear set of rules. Clean kills. No personal attachments. Nothing tying him down.

But now—

Now, there was Aurora.

And for the first time in a long time, Lucian felt something dangerously close to reckless.

He drove toward the city, his mind already working through the possibilities.

If someone had been watching—if there was even a whisper of suspicion—he needed to handle it.

Cleanly.

Efficiently.

Because Aurora's world was a delicate thing.

And he refused to let it shatter.

Not yet.

---

AURORA

The house felt different after Lucian left.

Not safer.

Just emptier.

Aurora spent the rest of the day moving through it in a fog. Avoiding her father. Avoiding the inevitable questions that would come sooner or later.

By the time night fell, exhaustion settled deep in her bones.

She slipped into bed, curling beneath the covers.

But sleep didn't come.

Instead, her mind replayed every moment from earlier—Lucian's voice, his gaze, the heat of his presence.

A shiver ran down her spine.

Aurora squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe evenly.

But when she finally drifted off, it wasn't to the safety of dreams.

It was to the phantom press of calloused fingers against her skin.

To a whisper of danger wrapped in the scent of smoke and steel.

To the memory of a man who had promised to see her soon.

And a terrifying part of her—

Hoped he would.