Chapter Fifteen: Playing with Fire

Later That Night…

Estella lay tangled in Lucien's sheets, her body still humming from the way he had fucked her—hard enough to make good on his threat to ruin her.

Lucien lay beside her, watching her with that same unreadable expression—the one that made her pulse race faster than she'd ever admit. His silver eyes burned in the low candlelight, and there was something possessive, almost dangerous, about the way his fingers traced idle circles along her bare thigh.

"You're too quiet," he murmured, his voice rough and low. "What's the matter, little rebel? Did I finally fuck the fight out of you?"

Estella snorted, though her body still trembled from how thoroughly he had ruined her. "Please," she drawled, stretching like a lazy cat. "I'm just giving you time to recover, Your Majesty. Wouldn't want you pulling a muscle."

Lucien's lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. "Careful," he warned softly, brushing his knuckles against the bruises he'd left on her hips. "I'm still in the mood to punish you."

Her heart slammed against her ribs—but she'd be damned if she let him see her flinch. "Promises, promises," she taunted, lifting her chin.

Without another word, Lucien rolled on top of her—his body heavy and unyielding, pinning her to the mattress. "You keep pushing me," he growled, his mouth grazing the curve of her jaw. "One day, I'm going to break you."

Estella arched beneath him, dragging her nails down his back. "You can try," she murmured. "But I don't break easy, Your Majesty."

His laugh was dark—dangerous. "I'm counting on that."

And then he kissed her—hard. Teeth and tongue, fierce and claiming, like he wanted to devour every inch of her defiance.

And gods—she let him.

---

The Next Morning…

Estella woke to an empty bed. Typical.

She stretched beneath the silk sheets, her muscles still aching deliciously from the night before. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she ran a hand over the faint bruises Lucien had left on her skin.

If he thought fucking her senseless would make her easier to control, he was dumber than she thought.

A sharp knock at the door dragged her from her thoughts. "Unless you're bringing breakfast, fuck off," she called.

The door swung open anyway.

Cassius.

The general strolled inside like he owned the place, his dark hair tousled and his usual smirk firmly in place. "You're awfully mouthy for someone who's barely out of bed," he drawled.

Estella rolled her eyes, pulling the sheet tighter around her chest. "What do you want, Cassius?"

He leaned against a nearby pillar, his gaze sweeping over her with open amusement. "The palace is buzzing about your little…arrangement with His Majesty," he said. "Word is, you've got him so whipped he's forgotten the rest of his harem exists."

Estella laughed, the sound sharp and unapologetic. "Can you blame him?"

Cassius grinned. "Fair point," he admitted. "But you should watch your back, little rebel. Valeria's not the forgiving type."

Estella slid out of bed, uncaring that the sheet slipped dangerously low on her hips. "I'm not scared of her," she said, heading toward her wardrobe.

"You should be." His voice, while still playful, carried a trace of warning. "That woman's been scheming since before you knew how to tie your shoes."

Estella glanced over her shoulder. "If she wants a fight, I'll give her one."

Cassius chuckled. "Gods, you're fun," he murmured. "No wonder Lucien's obsessed."

---

The Palace Gardens…

Valeria stood beneath the shade of a flowering archway, her hands clenched tight behind her back. The smile she wore was soft, sweet—practiced. But the rage simmering beneath it was anything but.

Grace stood beside her, the golden-haired viper as poised and lovely as ever. "You're losing your touch," she murmured. "Lucien barely looks at you anymore."

Valeria's nails dug into her palms. "He's distracted," she said coolly. "But it won't last."

Grace tilted her head. "And what happens if it does?"

Valeria's smile sharpened. "Then I'll remind him why I'm irreplaceable."

Grace let out a soft laugh. "By all means," she said sweetly. "Just don't underestimate her. That girl has claws."

"Claws can be trimmed," Valeria whispered.

And if Estella wanted to play, Valeria would make sure she never saw the next move coming.

---

Later That Night…

Lucien found her in the library, curled up in a plush chair with a book in her lap. His gaze swept over her—the loose silk robe barely hiding the bruises he'd left, the wild curls framing her face.

"You're avoiding me," he said, his voice low as he shut the door behind him.

Estella didn't bother to look up. "I was hoping you'd take the hint."

Lucien crossed the room in two steps, yanking the book from her hands. "Watch your mouth," he growled. "Unless you want it occupied."

Her lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. "Is that supposed to scare me, Your Majesty?"

His silver eyes burned as he leaned down, one hand curling around her throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to hold her still. "No," he murmured, brushing his lips against her ear. "I think you like it when I'm rough with you."

Estella tilted her head back, exposing more of her neck. "Maybe I do," she purred. "But if you want to make me scream, you'll have to try harder."

Lucien laughed softly, darkly. "Sweetheart," he said, lifting her from the chair and pinning her against the nearest bookshelf. "I'll make you fucking beg."

And when he kissed her—hard and deep—Estella realized something dangerous.

She might be playing with fire.

But so was he.

---

Meanwhile…

Valeria slipped into the shadows, a cruel smile curving her lips.

Estella thought she was untouchable. Thought Lucien's obsession would protect her.

But Valeria had played this game longer.

And when she made her next move—there would be no coming back from it.