Chapter 2
Jawlines and Ghosts
Lucas Creams scrolled through the endless sea of notifications like a man checking for landmines. @helmetdaddy_xo has over four million followers now. Not that he’d ever admit it out
Loud.
“Thinkin’ about you.”
She always replied.
booklover69.
The name sounded ridiculous, but her comments never were. She was a stalker. He knew that. But she was his stalker. And her DMs always made something in him ache not just in his cock, though definitely there too but deep in his chest. Like she saw him.
"I know you’re watching me back, Helmet Daddy. I can feel it. Still not brave enough to post the good stuff?"
He smirked despite himself.
Lucas leaned back in the velvet chair of his too big, too cold office, surrounded by steel and glass and legacy. He rubbed the side of his neck, then stared at his phone again.
Five years ago, he’d made the account on a dare to himself, either be the ghost of a man with secrets or be wanted.
Just once.
Just for him.
Not his last name.
Not his empire.
Not the money or the blood or the legacy.
Just the man with the bike and the scars and the jawline.
He sighed and looked at the cream tower HR email again. Assistant Interviews.
He hadn’t wanted a new one. His last assistant, Maggie, was sixty two, crocheted him dog sweaters he didn’t ask for, and smelled like biological washing powder and boiled sweets. She’d been kind. And now he was here. Interviewing replacements.
His stomach twisted.
What if they’re fake? What if they’re like everyone else? What if they look at me like they know what I’ve done?
“Why are you brooding like a Victorian bride?” Logan’s voice tore through the silence like a chainsaw through silk.
Lucas flinched.
His twin strolled in without knocking all tattoos, scars, and chaotic smirks tossing a protein bar onto Lucas’s desk and then flopping into the chair opposite like he owned it.
“Let me guess,” Logan said, legs wide, rings glinting. “Staring at your little kink account again?”
Lucas narrowed his eyes. “It’s not a kink account.”
“Oh no, my bad. Just shirtless on a motorbike with captions like ‘yours if you beg.’ Totally wholesome.”
Lucas groaned. “Why are you here?”
“New assistant interview. I wanted to see the look on your face when someone hot applies.”
Lucas scowled. “Maggie was nice.”
“She brought me Werther’s Originals,” Logan muttered fondly.
They both paused in weird nostalgic silence.
Lucas’s phone vibrated again.
A new DM.
From her.
booklover69:
“Are you thinking about me again? Or just that motorbike?”
He swallowed.
He didn’t know her name. Didn’t know her face but something about her words always made his pulse race.
Logan watched him, then smirked. “Still not planning on meeting any of these desperate fangirls, huh?”
Lucas shook his head. “No. That would ruin it.”
Logan stood, stretched, cracked his knuckles. “You’re gonna die alone. Just FYI.”
“Thanks.”
Lucas looked at the clock.
Interview in ten minutes.
He stood, straightened his shirt, and tried to remind himself he was the CEO of one of the most dangerous, powerful empires in the country.
You’re not the boy with the secrets. You’re Lucas Creams. Pull it together.
And then the elevator dinged.
He looked up.
She stepped out, red hair, leopard print, hips that didn’t lie, blazer that didn’t close and his brain just... stopped.
Oh no.