Chapter 10 #2
Violence pressed so heavily beneath my skin it almost hurt. Lucien described Cecilia like she was an object. Something beautiful he deserved to possess because Alexander had it instead of him.
Jealousy. Obsession. Entitlement. It practically bled through the pages, and then came the details. The confusion in her eyes. The fact she tried fighting him once she realized something was wrong. The way Lucien wrote about her fear like it fascinated him.
My hand tightened hard enough against the journal that the leather creaked faintly beneath my grip.
I wanted to kill him. The thought hit with enough force that it nearly knocked the air from my lungs.
Not metaphorically. Not abstractly. I wanted to drag Lucien back from the grave and put a bullet through his skull myself.
Again. And again. And again, until there was nothing left of him.
Because what kind of fucking monster does that to a woman? What kind of man watches someone terrified and helpless and still continues? What kind of sick bastard writes it down afterward like he’s proud of himself? The answer came without restraint. Lucien Voss .
A bitter taste filled my mouth. My eyes moved farther down the page. There was no remorse anywhere. Not even a trace. Only bitterness toward Alexander. Possession. Control.
Lucien genuinely believed Cecilia belonged to him first. Like her existence itself had somehow been stolen from him. I felt sick. Not weak sick. Not disgust that made someone recoil. This was different. This was rage so intense it became nauseating.
I knew men like Lucien existed. I had spent my entire life around them. Powerful men who treated women like rewards. Like property. Like something to own instead of human beings capable of fear and pain. But reading it written so casually—Christ. My entire body felt poisoned by it.
Emerald stirred suddenly against my lap. I snapped the journal shut instantly. Her nose wrinkled slightly before she shifted closer against me with a sleepy sound, cheek brushing my thigh again while her hand curled loosely against my leg. Still asleep.
I stared down at her for several long seconds. Something inside me twisted violently. This would destroy her. Learning this about her family—about Lucien—no.
I looked back toward the journal slowly. There had to be more. I opened it again. My eyes scanned farther down the entry. Then stopped completely. The date. I looked at the date again slower this time. A little over eighteen years ago. My thoughts halted.
Something cold crept through me .
No. No fucking way.
I flipped the page quickly. Another entry. Lucien mentioned Cecilia again. This time discussing her disappearance afterward. Alexander’s reaction. The panic surrounding her condition once she was found. Then another line caught my attention. Pregnancy.
The word sat there in black ink like a loaded weapon. I stared at it. Then reread the paragraph slower. Cecilia became pregnant afterward. Lucien sounded almost triumphant writing it. As if he viewed it as proof she belonged to him somehow.
My breathing slowed dangerously. Then— Termination scheduled.
I went completely still. The room suddenly felt too quiet. Rain hammered violently against the windows now, thunder rumbling somewhere outside while my thoughts spiraled faster and faster.
Lucien believed Cecilia terminated the pregnancy. Believed it enough to write about it confidently. Wrote about how furious he was with her about it. But what if she hadn’t?
My eyes moved back toward the date again. A little over eighteen years ago. Emerald’s age. The time would be when Cecelia conceived Emerald…
A sharp pulse hit behind my eyes.
No. Absolutely fucking not. Emerald couldn’t —
The thought wouldn’t even fully form, because if it did—Jesus Christ.
I looked down at the woman asleep against me. Blonde hair spread across my lap. Soft breaths. Completely unaware that my mind had just detonated. She couldn’t be his daughter. Except… Pieces started sliding together anyway.
The secrecy surrounding her growing up. Lucien’s reaction when Mira told him about Emerald. My blood ran cold.
Lucien had looked into Emerald after he found out. Not inappropriate. Like he watched her more carefully than everyone else. At the time I thought it was because she was Roman’s weakness. Now? Now I wasn’t so sure.
I stared blankly at the fire while thoughts collided violently inside my head.
If Emerald was Lucien’s daughter… Then what did that make her?
What did that make me? My entire body locked.
Because there was one possibility worse than the rest. One possibility that made something close to panic crawl beneath my skin.
Suddenly all I could hear was Emerald laughing downstairs days ago while teasing me. I could picture was her mouth against mine. My hands on her body. The sounds she made underneath me. My pulse slammed violently against my throat.
No. No fucking way !
I looked back toward the journal again desperately, searching for something that disproved it immediately.
Anything. But before I could turn another page, Emerald moved again.
This time her eyes blinked open slowly. Sleep clouded her expression while she stared upward at me in confusion for several seconds.
Then she noticed the look on my face, and immediately sat up.
“Nikolai?”
I shut the journal instantly. Too late.
Her eyes dropped straight toward it. Suspicion sharpened her expression almost immediately.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“That is absolutely a something face.”
I stood abruptly from the couch before she could grab the journal. Emerald blinked up at me, still half wrapped in the blanket from the couch while blonde hair fell messily around her shoulders.
“You look like you want to murder someone,” she said slowly.
“I do.”
“…Okay that was not reassuring. ”
I dragged a hand over my face and turned away from her.
Think. I needed to think. Because if I told her—Christ.
Behind me, Emerald shifted off the couch completely.
“Nikolai?”
“Drop it.”
“No.”
My eyes closed briefly. Of course she won’t.
“You found something?” Emerald asked.
My brain could not form a fucking word.
“Nikolai?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Bullshit.”
I looked at her. She was standing barefoot in one of my shirts with sleep still written across her face while concern slowly replaced irritation in her expression.
All I could think was that everything might change the second she learned the truth.
Or the possibility of it. I needed to get to the bottom of it before she started to panic.
“It’s nothing you need to read,” I said finally .
That only made her suspicious instantly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Lucien was worse than you thought.”
Emerald folded her arms. “That tells me literally nothing.”
“You don’t need details.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you really fucking don’t.”
“You’re protecting me.”
“I’m trying to!”
“Why?”
Because I already knew what reading that entry would do to her. Because I could already picture the horror on her face. Because I didn’t know how to survive watching that expression appear in her eyes.
“You found something about my family,” she said quietly.
I didn’t answer, and that was answer enough. Emerald stared at me for several long seconds. I watched the exact moment the air shifted around her. The teasing disappeared, then the sleepiness, then came the tension .
“What did he do?” she asked quietly.
I looked away from her.
“What did Lucien do?”
Shadows flickered across the room from the dying fire while silence stretched heavily between us.
I should’ve lied. Should’ve closed the journal and told her it was more business bullshit that didn’t matter.
Instead, I stood there staring at the flames while rage continued clawing through me so violently, I could barely think straight.
Every time I looked at her now, all I could picture was that fucking entry.
The date. The pregnancy. Lucien’s words.
My hand flexed once at my side. Emerald took another step closer.
“Nikolai.”
“Drop it.”
“No.”
“There are things in here you cannot unread!”
“Then maybe I should know them.”
Her voice sharpened near the end of the sentence. Emotion pushed beneath it now. Frustration, fear, anger. I knew that tone already. It was the same one she used anytime people kept her in the dark, and suddenly I could hear her voice from weeks ago screaming at me in the training room .
I’m tired of everyone deciding what I can and can’t handle.
I dragged a slow breath into my lungs before turning toward her fully.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
I studied her face for a moment. Still stubborn. Still defiant. Still looking at me like she’d rather choke on the truth than be protected from it. Dangerous fucking woman.
“The entry…” I started slowly, already regretting the words before they fully left my mouth. “It’s about Cecilia.”
Emerald frowned slightly. “My mom?”
I nodded once. Her demeanor changed without delay.
“What about her?”
The question landed softly, like part of her already knew the answer wasn’t going to be good. I looked down at the journal again. The leather cover suddenly felt heavier in my hands. How the fuck was I supposed to say this? How did anyone say something like that out loud?
Lucien raped your mother.
The words burned through my skull before I even spoke them. My face visible with tension. I forced myself to meet her eyes .
“He took her.”
A period of silence ensued. Emerald responded with a single blink. “What?”
“He drugged her.”
Her face lost color immediately. The storm outside faded into the background completely while she stared at me like she’d stopped understanding the room around her.
“No,” she whispered instantly. “No, he didn’t.”
I hated the sound of denial in her voice, not because it annoyed me, because it sounded terrified. My throat felt raw suddenly.
“He wrote about it.”