Chapter 29
Reality
I wake up to emptiness.
Lucas isn’t beside me.
The bed’s still warm on his side, but the air’s gone cold.
I wrap the silk robe around myself and pad barefoot through the villa, tile cool beneath my feet. Moonlight pours through the windows in ghost-blue streaks.
Then I see him.
Slouched on the floor by the low table, phone light glowing across his face.
He’s scrolling.
Flicking through the comments under his latest thirst trap post .
The one in the basement, half in shadow, helmet on, shirt off.
Thousands of likes.
Hundreds of replies.
"Who is this masked god??"
"Choke me, Daddy ??"
"I’ll sell my soul to sit on that face."
I’d laughed at those once. Written a few.
But now? Now I see the way he stares at them.
Like they don’t belong to him.
Like he doesn’t belong in them.
Next to him, a gun. Lying in its open case. Money folded beside it.
He doesn’t notice me at first. His thumb ghosts the screen, but his eyes are miles away. Hollow. Tight. Like he’s bracing for impact.
“…She doesn’t even know what I am,” he mutters.
My heart thuds. I step into the light.
“I do.”
He jerks, startled. Then sighs when he sees me. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“You either,” I murmured, sitting beside him. My hand brushes his knee. “Lucas… talk to me.”
He stares at the gun. “I kill people.”
“I know.”
“I lie. Steal. Run an empire built on corpses and front companies.”
“I know, Lucas.”
Finally, he looks at me, brown eyes haunted, stripped bare.
“You fell for a fantasy. A masked man with perfect lighting and no baggage.”
I take his phone. Close the app. Cup his face.
“I didn’t fall for Helmet Daddy,” I whisper. “I fell for the man who sleeps four hours a night and hates himself for things he didn’t choose. Who drinks decaf like it’s punishment and stares out windows like he’s drowning.”
A tear slips down his cheek. I catch it with my thumb.
“You are enough, Lucas. Not because of what you hide but because of what you still let me see.”
His exhale shudders through me. He leans in, lets me hold him. Soft. Just for tonight.
***
She hasn’t moved from my side. One hand on my back, the other tracing circles on my thigh. Quiet, but present. She eyes the duffel. The money. The gun. Raising a brow like this is just another Tuesday.
“What are you buying?”
I glance at her, deadpan. “Drugs.”
She blinks. Then grins. “That’s hot.”
A huff escapes me. Almost a laugh. No humor. Just weight. History. Responsibility.
“Not coke or heroin,” I add. “Not resale. Chemical contract. If it goes well, no bodies.
If it doesn’t…”
My eyes flick to the gun.
She follows my gaze. “We clean up,” I finished.
She doesn’t flinch. Just shifts closer, the robe sliding off one shoulder.
“Do you ever want to get out?”
I shake my head. Not because I don’t, but because it’s never been real.
“This is what I was born into,” I say. “The deal was made the second Bonnie stepped down. I had to prove I could hold it, while my parents were still watching.”
Her brows knit. “Your parents?”
“Felix and Bella.” My voice drops. “They’re alive. In their seventies now. Still sharp. Still dangerous. And still reminding me this empire is mine to hold but never mine to change.”
Her eyes soften, curious. “So you’re carrying it for them.”
I swallow hard. “For them. For Logan. For everyone. I killed for the crown while they sat at the table. They didn’t pass it down because they were weak. They passed it because they wanted to see if I’d break.”
Maddison curls her fingers through mine. “And have you?”
I stare at her. At the girl who should’ve run from the first gun and instead leans closer.
“…Not yet,” I admit.
“Good,” she says softly. “Because you’ve got me now. And if you break, I’ll help glue you back together. Even if it’s with blood.”
Her smirk is chaos. Wicked. Mine.
And all I can think is:
Now I’m completely fucked .