Reminiscing the Past

That life went on for a year—until Lucian's gang was ambushed by a rival faction, and everything finally took a turn.

I had been scrubbing the kitchen floor when my bucket was suddenly kicked over. A thug yanked me up by my hair, snarling, "Boss is under attack, and you're here scrubbing floors?!"

I stared at him, utterly speechless.

Why was I scrubbing the floor? They were the ones who made me do it. And now they had the audacity to question me?

Wait. Lucian was under attack?

That was fantastic news.

I couldn't stop myself—I burst into laughter. That bastard. After all the torment he and his men had put me through, he deserved this.

But the laughter didn't last long.

Because if Lucian really died here, wouldn't that mean I had suffered all of this for nothing?

My chest tightened at the thought. Without another word, I ran into the streets.

Gunfire and screams filled the air, the entire district plunged into chaos.

Lucian's men were pinned down, unable to break through the enemy's blockade. But no one stopped me.

"That poor woman," I heard one of them say. "She's been tortured by Lucian for so long—she must be going in for revenge."

They couldn't have been more wrong.

The stained-glass windows of an abandoned church lay shattered across the floor. I followed the trail of blood up to the attic.

Lucian was slumped against the wall, one hand clutching a wound in his abdomen. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining his white shirt a deep crimson.

His gaze lifted to meet mine, his face pale and drenched in cold sweat. "You came to kill me?" His voice was hoarse. "Go ahead."

I shook my head. Then, from behind my back, I pulled out a bouquet of roses—stolen in the midst of the chaos from a street-side florist.

"I came to confess my love."

Lucian's body went rigid.

He reached out, gripping my wrist so tightly I thought he might snap the bone. "What did you just say?"

I held his gaze. "I said, I love you. Even after everything—even after the torment, the humiliation—I still love you."

His amber eyes flickered, shifting from shock to confusion, then into an emotion I couldn't decipher.

His grip slackened. His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. "I'm not worthy of your love."

"Maybe not," I said, my voice trembling. "But I can't control my heart." Tears welled in my eyes. "I fell for you the first moment I saw you. Everyone told me to let go, but I thought—if I truly love someone, I should hold on, right? I held on for so long, but you still…"

My breath hitched. "Tell me, Lucian… have I been holding on the wrong way?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his right hand—hidden behind him—suddenly slacken. The gun he had been gripping slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

A wave of cold fear rushed over me. A wave of fear washed over me. If I hadn't pretended to please him to save my father, would I have ended up with a bullet between my eyes?

But instead of showing my fear, I widened my eyes in mock despair and shouted, "Lucian, I love you! If I can't be with you in life, then let me die with you instead!"

Without hesitation, I grabbed the fallen gun, pressed the muzzle to my temple, and shut my eyes.

Just as I predicted, the barrel was violently knocked aside.

Lucian shoved me against the wall, his entire body trembling with the force of his grip. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts as he roared, "Sienna, are you insane?!"

"I am." My tears spilled over. "From the moment I fell in love with you, I've been insane."

His expression wavered. His grip loosened.

"You're a fool," he muttered, exhaustion and something else—something softer—seeping into his voice. His fingertips brushed my cheek, wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop falling. His touch was so gentle, so unlike him.

"I surrender, Sienna."

"I love you too."

As the first rays of morning light filtered through the broken stained glass, Lucian's bloodstained hand suddenly curled around the back of my head.

His lips crashed onto mine.

The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and in a panic, I bit down—hard.

Lucian pulled back slightly, touching the blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Idiot." He chuckled hoarsely and pulled me into his arms.

After that, Lucian pampered me for a while. His tenderness, his protectiveness, even the possessiveness that occasionally slipped through—it all wove a sweet illusion that I willingly indulged in. For a moment, I almost forgot the pain he had inflicted on me.

I even thought, Maybe spending the rest of my life with him wouldn't be so bad.

But I was wrong.

"Sienna, the way you throw yourself at me every day like some cheap whore is honestly disgusting."

One day, out of nowhere, he brought another woman home.

Her name was Evelyn—apparently, she was the woman of Theo, the gang leader who had previously tried to take Lucian down.

"Unlike you, she actually understands me. I'm going to marry her. From now on, you'll be her maid."

Wow. Lucian really had some guts, keeping his enemy's woman by his side. Wasn't he afraid of getting stabbed in his sleep?

Evelyn smirked as she waved her hand, knocking a glass of water onto the floor. "Oh dear, I made a mess. Be a doll and clean that up, would you?"

Lucian chuckled, pulling her closer. "Sienna is excellent at housework. Go fetch a rag and wipe it up—on your hands and knees. A mop won't do it justice."

His words seemed to excite Evelyn even more.

As I knelt down to wipe the floor, she suddenly stomped on my hand.

The sharp heel of her shoe dug into my flesh, sending a searing pain through my fingers. I sucked in a sharp breath. But she wasn't satisfied yet—she ground her heel in deeper, then sneered down at me.

"Sienna, I'm hungry. Make Lucian and me a lovely couple's meal, will you?"

Cooking? Well, wasn't that just perfect?

Because I couldn't cook to save my life.

So I marched into the kitchen and threw ingredients together with reckless abandon.

The result? A disaster.

And just as Evelyn stormed into the kitchen to inspect my work, the stove exploded.

Evelyn's piercing shriek echoed through the entire estate.

Lucian rushed in, only to be greeted by the sight of her standing there, her face completely blackened by soot—except for her two wide, terrified eyes. Her hair stood on end, like she had been struck by lightning.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

"Lucian, Sienna tried to kill me! I'm so scared!" Evelyn wailed, throwing herself at him.

Lucian, to my surprise, took a step back.

Evelyn froze. "Why did you move away? Don't you love me?" Her voice trembled, her teary eyes now streaking two clean lines through the grime on her face, making her look even more ridiculous. "You promised you'd love me forever. That's why I found the courage to poison Theo for you!"

Oh. Oh.

Now, that was some juicy gossip.

Lucian's jaw tightened. But then, forcing a smile, he pulled her into his arms. "Of course, my love. How could it be fake?"

"Kiss me," Evelyn demanded, puckering her lips and tilting her soot-streaked face toward his.

Lucian's patience snapped.

With a look of pure revulsion, he shoved her to the floor.

"Oh, sorry. I'm just too hungry—I don't have the energy for a kiss." He turned to me instead, tossing his phone into my hands. "Sienna, order me a pizza."

Ah, food delivery? That, I could do.

So I placed an order.

For a pineapple pizza.

Half an hour later, an enraged roar echoed through the mansion.

"SIENNA! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU ORDER?!"

"A pineapple pizza," I replied innocently. "You never said I couldn't."

I honestly didn't see the problem. I mean, wasn't pineapple pizza delicious?

"GET OUT!" he bellowed.

At that moment, Evelyn emerged from the bathroom, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder as she pouted, "Lucian, don't be mad—"

"YOU TOO! GET OUT!"