Aspen

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

LUCIAN

M y godfather looked pale against the blue cushioned booth. I’d followed the hostess to the table in the back corner by the window, cataloguing the deeper hallows carving out his cheeks and sunken eyes, appearing darker under the shining sun. Once he noticed my approach, he smiled, banishing at least some of the shadows clinging to him.

Guilt ate away at my chest as I watched him white-knuckle the table to brace himself and stand.

“Please don’t get up,” I almost begged.

He scoffed. “Of course. How else would I give you a hug?”

Instead of the usual quick embrace and slapping backs, he held on a little longer, each second pricking at my awareness. It reminded me of when he informed me he had cancer, leaving me to wonder if he planned to drop another bomb now.

No, I assured myself. He’d let me know privately, like he had before.

Except, he and Grace had sent me countless invites to dinner over the past few weeks. All of which I’d turned down.

I wanted to pretend it was because I was busy, between keeping up with work, adding in the Quinn Music Group acquisition, and taking every opportunity to control Aspen, but my conscience wouldn’t allow it. At the root of it all, guilt sat heavy on my chest. The lies hung around my neck, and I wanted to ignore them—ignore why I even said them.

So, like the grown man I was, I avoided them all together; including the people I lied to. Only serving to add more shame rather than offering any solace. Instead, I focused my time on Aspen, calling her to my office any chance I could get just so I could watch her fight so hard before giving in. Fight her submission, her discomfort, or the orgasm I always made her give me. I focused my time on making her come while remaining in control.

I’d almost lost that control during our first scene when she stared up at me with those golden, glazed eyes, locking me in place and kissing me. When the mouth I’d stared at for weeks touched mine, when her hand reached for my belt, I forgot everything but wanting more. I forgot my plan to take it slow. I forgot my plan to create a barrier of distance by not kissing her. Something inside me warned it would be too intimate, and I’d been right. As soon as our lips collided, all I wanted was more, more, more. More beyond the scene I planned. More beyond making her come. Just…more.

So, without any thought, I took it.

I took everything I wanted until it burned into desperate need that had me losing control. My plan vanished, taking my common sense with it. Hell, I had been so consumed by need that I forgot to use a fucking condom. Something I swore I wouldn’t do after Daria. The desire to be inside Aspen tore through my barriers and left me exposed.

After feeling the pleasure of fucking her raw and coming inside her, I wanted to remain pressed to her and soak it all in until we could start over again.

Thank god Shiloh had interrupted when she did, giving me the reality check I needed. Giving me the opportunity to get my shit together and build my barriers back stronger than before.

Ever since, I held my desires on a tighter leash, remembering to never lose myself to a woman—not even one as alluring as Aspen.

Felix sat back against the booth with a sigh and reached for his steaming cup.

“Hitting the hard stuff today?” I joked.

“Oh, yes.” He laughed, setting his cup down with a slight tremble. “I’m living on the wild side with this ginger tea. I even had them add a pinch of cinnamon as well.”

I laughed with him, but each vibration of my chest hit more like a sledgehammer breaking something from the inside out. Felix had ginger tea to help with the nausea, which rarely happened before the evening after the day wore him down.

It wasn’t even noon yet.

The concern from earlier rushed back, pressing in too hard. My lungs struggled to expand, and my vision swayed.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” the waiter asked.

I blinked, breaking through the wave of doubt crashing over me, and took a deep breath. “A coffee, please.” Shaking off the rampant thoughts, I diverted to an easier topic. “So, where’s Grace today?”

“At another one of her charity board meetings, I suppose. I can never keep up with that one. Even after all these years.”

“Yeah, I remembered how busy Mom used to get with her charity boards too.”

Felix pointed his finger with a nod. “Exactly. And us men support it in the best way we know how—by hanging on their arms at every single event, even if we have to grit our way through it.”

“Dad always groaned when Mom would add another party to the calendar.”

Felix laughed. “Dominic would have hung on your mom’s arm to the gates of hell if it meant he got to spend a second more with her.”

I smiled, but dropped my gaze to the table. Even after all these years, I missed them.

“Their love for one another was the thing Grace noticed first about your parents,” Felix began down memory lane. “She said it’s the kind of love everyone should have, and you were a lucky boy to have witnessed it.”

I scoffed, dragging my thumb along the smooth, linen-covered edge of the table. “Too bad witnessing it didn’t set me up to recognize that the love I thought I had was actually a ruse set up to fuck me over.”

“I have to say, Lucian,” Felix started after a heavy sigh. The darker edge to his tone pulled my attention back to find pursed lips and irritation. “I would never admit this to Grace, but if I could, I would pull every string possible to ruin Daria’s name in our social circles. She doesn’t deserve the life she has after what she did to you.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “But your godmother is all about forgiveness and being kind. So, I usually nod and smile instead of saying what I truly want to happen to that woman.”

Felix stayed silent for the most part whenever Daria came up. I assumed it was because he agreed with Grace and let her do all the talking. So, to find out that he didn’t sent a ripple of thoughts through my mind, opening doors to ideas that I’d written off before.

If Felix understood my resentment, then maybe he agreed with more than I assumed, and he just needed a way to express it.

Maybe all he needed was an opening to relieve me of my promise to marry and then I wouldn’t have to lie anymore.

I swallowed and worked to slow my breathing. I needed to contain the hope of getting out of this mess so I could broach the topic gently without admitting to any of my lies.

“So, you understand why I hesitate to get married again?”

“I do understand, Lucian…” Before I could sigh in relief, he kept going, dashing any delusions I’d built in the last minutes. “But just because your parents got lucky and found each other on their first try, doesn’t mean second chances don’t exist. Your parents wouldn’t want you to give up on finding the same love they had. And I have no doubt that if they were alive, they would have made the same deal with you as I did. Which means, just because I understand your hesitance, doesn’t mean I’m letting you out of our bargain.”

He gave me the same knowing look he gave when I was a teenager, and he caught me sneaking drinks at one of the events. The one that said, nice try, kid.

The lies I planned to be relieved of, snapped right back around my chest.

“How is your girlfriend, by the way? What was her name again? Aspen?”

His innocent question tightened the screws, branding my guilt into my skin. The reminder of tossing out Aspen’s name at the last minute added another layer of complications, compounding the situation.

I took a drink to help swallow the lump in my throat. “She’s good.”

“You’re happy?” Felix asked.

“Of course. Do I not look happy?”

He laughed and looked down at the table as if collecting his thoughts. I braced myself when he lifted his eyes and parted his lips, but the waiter came. I should have experienced an ounce of relief, having escaped whatever my godfather wanted to say, but I knew that ordering our meal wouldn’t deter him. Leaving me to hold my breath—waiting for the guillotine to drop.

Felix hadn’t asked me to lunch to do more male bonding, and I was on borrowed time until the real reason revealed itself. When it did, I had a feeling it would obliterate the pressure squeezing around my chest. More than that, it would obliterate me and the tenuous control I clung to with my lies.

I handed the menus to the waiter once we placed our orders and watched his retreating back, stringing out the seconds of avoiding Felix’s attention.

Although, my plan failed. Instead of buying myself time, I gave him the opportunity to reach in his pocket and lay a bombshell on the table. Instead of giving myself the chance to brace for the car crash looming ahead, it blindsided me.

Because when I looked back, my mother’s ring waited for me. The five-carat emerald cut diamond sat in the platinum band. Strands of smaller diamonds wove across each other to frame the jewel.

The lump in my throat climbed higher.

The memory of the last time I saw the ring choking me.

“I know you said you never wanted to see it again after you got it back from Daria, but I thought it might be time,” Felix explained.

“I’m here for the ring.”

Cold blue eyes stared up at me from the inside of our apartment. I meant her apartment. I had no claim to anything inside of it. Not the furniture we picked out, the paintings, the dishes we got on our wedding day, nor the woman blocking my entrance who stole it all from me.

“It’s not your ring, Lucian,” she claimed.

I tried to push past the hard edge of her words and remember the woman I fell in love with. I tried to recall her soft laughter and warm touches, but it had all vanished when she explained that it had all been a facade to get my money. All that remained was the chilling hollow pit bubbling with regret, shame, and more anger than I knew what to do with.

“It’s my mother’s and as we are no longer married, I want it back.”

Her laughter trickled like ice down my spine. “Why? So you can give it to your next poor victim.”

She spat the word victim, and I clenched my fists, searching for control. Anger pierced my lungs, crawling up my chest to break free, and I struggled to breathe past it. “Give me. The fucking. Ring. Daria.”

Her swallow was the only hint of her nerves before she hoisted her chin high. “It’s not. Your fucking ring. Lucian,” she shot back.

I stood taller, wanting to block out the light from her world. Wanting to close in on her until she saw nothing but me and feared what I was really capable of.

She took a step back.

Good.

At this point, she should be scared—because I wasn’t sure how much control I had left, and I grew darker by the second.

I gripped both sides of the doorframe and leaned into her space, my lips twitching into a manic smile. I stared right at her and let her see how close to the edge of losing it I was. If she wanted to play victim, then I would give her a true reason to.

“Daria,” I started softly. “If you don’t give me my ring, I swear to God, I will haunt you to the ends of the Earth and back. I’ve been relatively quiet throughout this sham of a divorce, but I can happily— happily— get loud. I can leak pictures too. I can drag your name through the mud until you have nowhere to turn without someone eyeing you as the complete piece of trash you are. And when you’ve had enough here and go somewhere else, I’ll follow. I. Will. Fucking. Obliterate. You,” I promised. “Now give me my mother fucking ring.”

Her lashes fluttered and her eyes dropped away. “Fine, Lucian,” she finally caved, struggling to meet my eyes. She stepped over to the entryway table and tugged out a drawer, snagging the ring, before slamming it back shut. “I never liked it anyway. The style was gaudy and outdated. I used to make excuses that your mother came from a poor background and didn’t know how to design a ring to the other women at the club, so they’d stop mocking your dead mother’s ring.”

Daria dropped the ring in my outstretched palm with a slight tremble to her hand. When she moved to slam the door in my face, I pressed my foot to the bottom, holding it open. Her gaze jerked down and back up with a grunt of disgust tinged with fear.

Good.

The spark of excitement from seeing her eyes flash with doubt punctured my high. Never in my life had I ever relished a woman fearing me. Never had I ever wanted it. I spent my childhood learning from my parents to respect women and care for them. Even when I became a Dom, I never wanted a woman’s fear. But something inside me liked Daria’s, and that terrified me.

“Do not speak of my mother. Don’t speak of anyone in my family. If I ever find out that you dare dirty their names with your filthy, lying mouth, I will come for you and ruin you. Understood?”

Another swallow.

Another troubling spark of excitement.

“Fine, Lucian.” She covered her nerves with an eye roll. “Just move on with your pathetic life. Thanks for the fortune.”

She slammed the door in my face, and I gripped the ring.

The sharp edges dug into my palm, grounding me. With a deep breath, I stepped away from the place I thought would be the home I’d raise a family in and ran to Felix and Grace’s house, demanding they take the ring because I never wanted to see it again.

Cool metal pressed into my palm, bringing me back. I looked down to find my hand clutched around the knife beside my plate like it had been around the ring that day. Clearing my throat, I released it and gathered myself, hoping Felix missed the uncontrolled show of emotion.

“Why would you think now is the time?” I asked. Playing dumb was not the answer, but seeing the ring scrambled my brain, and I couldn’t conjure a better plan.

“You’ve talked about this woman for a while now and you seem happy with…with…”

“Aspen,” I supplied.

“Yes. Aspen,” he proclaimed, as if it was on the tip of his tongue rather than a name I’d only mentioned once. A name I highly, deeply, painfully regretted giving. My guilt compounded, blocking me in. “I thought you might need it for Aspen.”

I barked a soft laugh. “You want me to ask someone you barely know the name of to marry me? You haven’t even met her and can’t remember her name. What if you hate her?”

“That’s because someone was rather tight-lipped with it,” he accused. “And it doesn’t matter if I like her or not.”

“Of course it does. She’ll attend dinners with me and then you’d be miserable if you hate her.”

“Then it will only be a few dinners before I pass and as long as you’re happy with?—”

“Don’t say that!” I demanded, my tone offering no room to argue.

Felix paused with his mouth open before sighing, sinking into the tufted blue cushion behind him. With another deep breath, he dragged his hand through his wispy hair and shook his head, looking up.

The dread poured from his yellowed eyes and sank into my stomach like an anchor weighing it down to the pits of hell. This , I thought. This is the reason he pushed to see me. Not the ring, but whatever came next.

I tried to brace myself, but knew it wouldn’t be enough.

“I visited the doctor last month, and they informed me that the cancer has spread to my lungs.”

Woosh .

Every ounce of air leaked from my body, leaving behind the dull thump of my pulse attempting to keep going despite the lack of oxygen. But the boy who loved Felix like he was his own father stomped his foot. He didn’t want to keep going.

My lungs gave out before my stubbornness could and small gasps were the only thing I heard. The world a muffled mess beyond the agony tearing through me.

A cleared throat pierced the muted bubble. My eyes snapped to an apologetic Felix.

“How long?” I asked.

His brows pulled tight. “Maybe six months.”

I swallowed. “And how long if you started chemo again?”

He shook his head. “Lucian. I can’t.”

My grip tightened around the knife again because he could.

“I won’t,” he clarified harder.

I knew that. We’d had the argument before, and I lost every time. He didn’t want an extra month of life if it meant spending three more in the hospital, and I couldn’t blame him. I just selfishly wanted him to do it anyway.

“Hence, why I brought the ring.” He pushed the ring closer across the table.

I eyed it sparkling under the restaurant spotlight and tried to control my breathing. Between the news and the expectation and the lies and the corner I was trapped in, I could barely focus on anything, let alone even breathing.

It was too much, and it threatened to swallow me whole.

“How are things with you and Aspen, by the way?” Felix asked.

The glint against the diamond held me in a trance while a voice in my mind screamed at me to come clean. Now was my chance. Explain that it was all a lie, and that I had no one to marry and didn’t want to waste time with anyone else when I wanted to spend every second with him. How could Felix refute that?

“If you do choose to ask Aspen to be your wife, I think a wedding will be the perfect event to focus our energy on. So joyful and exciting. I know Grace will love every second that she is allowed to help.”

I looked up into his hopeful gaze and knew I couldn’t take it away.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “And we’re good. Very good, actually.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. The way you’ve been talking about her reminds me of how your father told me he was with your mom. He claimed he kept her to himself for as long as possible so nothing could spoil them. Just like you’ve done with Aspen. That’s why I never pushed. I figured you were like your father and falling in love in your own way.”

The lie grew until it choked me, and I raised my glass to try to swallow it back down.

“Does Aspen know about your lifestyle?”

I choked on the liquid, coughing until a nearby waiter came by to check on me. I waved him off and focused my attention back on Felix.

“I don’t judge you for your choices, Lucian,” he said, holding his hands up. “Everyone is entitled to what makes them happy and if Aspen shares your interests, then even better. No one should do what Daria did and twist your happiness into lies about consent to use against you.”

I nodded, unsure of how to respond. While Felix—and everyone else that partook in the divorce trial—knew about my preferences, that didn’t mean I wanted to go into detail over lunch.

Felix nudged the box again until I finally accepted it. I snapped the lid closed and shoved it in my pocket, doing my best to ignore the intense pressure against my thigh.

“Maybe this is the push you need to finally pop the question after dating her for so long,” he suggested lightly.

I choked back a laugh, unable to recall how long I’d spoken of my fictitious girlfriend and how long I’d imagined Aspen in her place.

Dating her for so long? More like I’d known Aspen for a couple of months. And dating her ? I’d never classify what I was doing with Aspen as dating.

“You’re missing one important thing, Felix. She has to want to marry me too.”

My godfather scoffed. “Who wouldn’t want to marry such an amazing man like you?”

Yeah. An amazing man who lied to his godparents and planned to screw the woman out of her family company.

I was a real winner.

What made it even better? I had no regrets about my business deal with Quinn Music Group or my deal with Aspen. The least I could do was have doubts, but even those were missing.

In their place, a wild idea grew that made me no less anxious. In their place, Felix’s suggestion to ask Aspen to marry me planted itself.

I barely choked off the manic laughter rising from my wild thoughts when I imagined her wide dark eyes if I did.

However, despite the mania building, like the pressure in my pocket, something inside me demanded I not dismiss the idea completely.